As soon as it was ascertained that the new form of government had received the sanction of the people and would go into immediate operation, all eyes were at once turned to Washington as the first President of the United States. During the war he had, in fact, directed the course of public affairs. His suggestions had been almost invariably followed by Congress. His recommendations had influenced the action of the different States. His practical administrative abilities were known to all. He alone possessed the confidence of the people to that degree which was necessary to carry the constitution into vigorous effect at the outset and to defend it against its secret as well as its open enemies. But it was by no means certain that he would accept the office. By all who knew him, fears were entertained that his preference for private life would prevail over the wishes of the public, and soon after the adoption of the constitution was ascertained, his correspondents began to press him on a point which was believed essential to the completion of the great work on which the grandeur and happiness of America was supposed to depend. "We cannot," said Mr. Johnson, a man of great political eminence in Maryland, "do without you; and I, and thousands more, can explain to anybody but yourself why we cannot do without you." "I have ever thought," said Gouverneur Morris, "and have ever said, that you must be President; no other man can fill that office. No other man can draw forth the abilities of our country into the various departments of civil life. You alone can awe the insolence of opposing factions and the greater insolence of assuming adherents. I say nothing of foreign powers nor of their ministers. With these last you will have some plague. As to your feelings on this occasion they are, I know, both deep and affecting: you embark property most precious on a most tempestuous ocean; for, as you possess the highest reputation, so you expose it to the perilous chance of popular opinion. On the other hand, you will, I firmly expect, enjoy the inexpressible felicity of contributing to the happiness of all your countrymen. You will become the father of more than three millions of children; and while your bosom glows with parental tenderness, in theirs or at least in a majority of them, you will excite the duteous sentiments of filial affection. This, I repeat it, is what I firmly expect; and my views are not directed by that enthusiasm which your public character has impressed on the public mind. Enthusiasm is generally short-sighted and too often blind. I form my conclusions from those talents and virtues which the world believes and which your friends know you possess."

In a letter detailing the arrangements which were making for the introduction of the new government, Col. Henry Lee proceeded thus to speak of the presidency of the United States. "The solemnity of the moment and its application to yourself have fixed my mind in contemplations of a public and a personal nature, and I feel an involuntary impulse which I cannot resist, to communicate without reserve to you some of the reflections which the hour has produced. Solicitous for our common happiness as a people, and convicted as I continue to be that our peace and prosperity depend on the proper improvement of the present period, my anxiety is extreme that the new government may have an auspicious beginning. To effect this and to perpetuate a nation formed under your auspices it is certain that again you will be called forth.

"The same principles of devotion to the good of mankind which have invariably governed your conduct will no doubt continue to rule your mind, however opposite their consequences may be to your repose and happiness. It may be wrong, but I cannot suppress, in my wishes for national felicity, a due regard for your personal fame and content.

"If the same success should attend your efforts on this important occasion which has distinguished you hitherto, then, to be sure, you will have spent a life which Providence rarely if ever before gave to the lot of one man. It is my anxious hope, it is my belief, that this will be the case; but all things are uncertain, and perhaps nothing more so than political events." He then proceeded to state his apprehensions that the government might sink under the activity hostility of its foes, and in particular the fears which he entertained from the circular letter of New York, around which the minorities in the several States might be expected to rally. Before concluding his letter, Colonel Lee said, "Without you the government can have but little chance of success; and the people of that happiness which its prosperity must yield."

In reply to this letter Washington said: "Your observations on the solemnity of the crisis and its application to myself bring before me subjects of the most momentous and interesting nature. In our endeavors to establish a new general government the contest, nationally considered, seems not to have been so much for glory as existence. It was for a long time doubtful whether we were to survive as an independent Republic or decline from our federal dignity into insignificant and wretched fragments of empire. The adoption of the constitution so extensively and with so liberal an acquiescence on the part of the minorities in general, promised the former; but lately the circular letter of New York has manifested, in my apprehension, an unfavorable if not an insidious tendency to a contrary policy. I still hope for the best, but before you mentioned it I could not help fearing it would serve as a standard to which the disaffected might resort. It is now evidently the part of all honest men who are friends to the new constitution, to endeavor to give it a chance to disclose its merits and defects, by carrying it fairly into effect in the first instance.

"The principal topic of your letter is to me a point of great delicacy indeed—insomuch that I can scarcely without some impropriety touch upon it. In the first place, the event to which you allude may never happen; among other reasons, because, if the partiality of my fellow-citizens conceive it to be a means by which the sinews of the new government would be strengthened, it will of consequence be obnoxious to those who are in opposition to it, many of whom unquestionably will be placed among the electors.

"This consideration alone would supersede the expediency of announcing any definite and irrevocable resolution. You are among the small number of those who know my invincible attachment to domestic life, and that my sincerest wish is to continue in the enjoyment of it solely, until my final hour. But the world would be neither so well instructed, nor so candidly disposed, as to believe me to be uninfluenced by sinister motives, in case any circumstance should render a deviation from the line of conduct I had prescribed for myself indispensable. Should the contingency you suggest take place, and (for argument sake alone, let me say) should my unfeigned reluctance to accept the office be overcome by a deference for the reasons and opinions of my friends, might I not, after the declarations I have made (and heaven knows they were made in the sincerity of my heart), in the judgment of the impartial world, and of posterity, be chargeable with levity and inconsistency, if not with rashness and ambition? Nay, further, would there not even be some apparent foundation for the two former charges? Now, justice to myself, and tranquility of conscience, require that I should act a part, if not above imputation, at least capable of vindication. Nor will you conceive me to be too solicitous for reputation. Though I prize as I ought the good opinion of my fellow-citizens, yet, if I know myself, I would not seek or retain popularity at the expense of one social duty or moral virtue. While doing what my conscience informed me was right, as it respected my God, my country, and myself, I could despise all the party clamor and unjust censure which must be expected from some, whose personal enmity might be occasioned by their hostility to the government. I am conscious that I fear alone to give any real occasion for obloquy, and that I do not dread to meet with unmerited reproach. And certain I am, when-so-ever I shall be convinced the good of my country requires my reputation to be put in risk, regard for my own fame will not come in competition with an object of so much magnitude.

"If I declined the task it would be upon quite another principle. Notwithstanding my advanced season of life, my increasing fondness for agricultural amusements, and my growing love of retirement, augment and confirm my decided predilection for the character of a private citizen, yet it will be no one of these motives, nor the hazard to which my former reputation might be exposed, or the terror of encountering new fatigues and troubles, that would deter me from an acceptance, but a belief that some other person, who had less pretense and less inclination to be excused, could execute all the duties full as satisfactorily as myself. To say more would be indiscreet, as a disclosure of a refusal beforehand might incur the application of the fable in which the fox is represented as undervaluing the grapes he could not reach. You will perceive, my dear sir, by what is here observed (and which you will be pleased to consider in the light of a confidential communication), that my inclinations will dispose and decide me to remain as I am, unless a clear and insurmountable conviction should be impressed on my mind, that some very disagreeable consequences must in all human probability result from the indulgence of my wishes."

About the same time Colonel Hamilton concluded a letter on miscellaneous subjects with the following observations. "I take it for granted, sir, you have concluded to comply with what will, no doubt, be the general call of your country in relation to the new government. You will permit me to say that it is indispensable you should lend yourself to its first operations. It is to little purpose to have introduced a system, if the weightiest influence is not given to its firm establishment in the outset."

"On the delicate subject," said Washington in reply, "with which you conclude your letter, I can say nothing; because the event alluded to may never happen; and because, in case it should occur, it would be a point of prudence to defer forming one's ultimate and irrevocable decision so long as new data might be afforded for one to act with the greater wisdom and propriety. I would not wish to conceal my prevailing sentiment from you. For you know me well enough, my good sir, to be persuaded that I am not guilty of affectation, when I tell you it is my great and sole desire to live and die in peace and retirement on my own farm. Were it even indispensable a different line of conduct should be adopted, while you and some others who are acquainted with my heart would acquit, the world and posterity might probably accuse me of inconsistency and ambition. Still, I hope I shall always possess firmness and virtue enough to maintain (what I consider the most enviable of all titles) the character of an honest man."

This answer drew from Hamilton the following reply: "I should be deeply pained, my dear sir, if your scruples in regard to a certain station should be matured into a resolution to decline it; though I am neither surprised at their existence, nor can I but agree in opinion that the caution you observe in deferring the ultimate determination is prudent. I have, however, reflected maturely on the subject, and have come to the conclusion (in which I feel no hesitation) that every public and personal consideration will demand from you an acquiescence in what will certainly be the unanimous wish of your country.

"The absolute retreat which you meditated at the close of the late war was natural and proper. Had the government produced by the Revolution gone on in a tolerable train, it would have been most advisable to have persisted in that retreat. But I am clearly of opinion that the crisis which brought you again into public view left you no alternative but to comply; and I am equally clear in the opinion that you are by that act pledged to take a part in the execution of the government. I am not less convinced that the impression of the necessity of your filling the station in question is so universal that you run no risk of any uncandid imputation by submitting to it. But even if this were not the case, a regard to your own reputation, as well as to the public good, calls upon you in the strongest manner to run that risk.

"It cannot be considered as a compliment to say that, on your acceptance of the office of President, the success of the new government in its commencement may materially depend. Your agency and influence will be not less important in preserving it from the future attacks of its enemies than they have been in recommending it in the first instance to the adoption of the people. Independent of all considerations drawn from this source, the point of light in which you stand at home and abroad will make an infinite difference in the respectability with which the government will begin its operations, in the alternative of your being or not being at the head of it. I forbear to mention considerations which might have a more personal application. What I have said will suffice for the inferences I mean to draw.

"First. In a matter so essential to the well-being of society as the prosperity of a newly-instituted government, a citizen of so much consequence as yourself to its success has no option but to lend his services if called for. Permit me to say it would be inglorious, in such a situation, not to hazard the glory, however great, which he might have previously acquired.

"Secondly. Your signature to the proposed system pledges your judgment for its being such a one as, upon the whole, was worthy of the public approbation. If it should miscarry (as men commonly decide from success or the want of it), the blame will, in all probability, be laid on the system itself. And the framers of it will have to encounter the disrepute of having brought about a revolution in government without substituting anything that was worthy of the effort; they pulled down one utopia, it will be said, to build up another. This view of the subject, if I mistake not, my dear sir, will suggest to your mind greater hazard to that fame which must be, and ought to be, dear to you, in refusing your future aid to the system than in affording it. I will only add that in my estimate of the matter that aid is indispensable.

"I have taken the liberty to express these sentiments and to lay before you my view of the subject. I doubt not the considerations mentioned have fully occurred to you, and I trust they will finally produce in your mind the same result which exists in mine. I flatter myself the frankness with which I have delivered myself will not be displeasing to you. It has been prompted by motives which you would not disapprove."

In answer to this letter, Washington expressed himself without reserve. "In acknowledging," said he, "the receipt of your candid and kind letter by the last post, little more is incumbent on me than to thank you sincerely for the frankness with which you communicated your sentiments, and to assure you that the same manly tone of intercourse will always be more than barely welcome—indeed, it will be highly acceptable to me.

"I am particularly glad, in the present instance, that you have dealt thus freely and like a friend. Although I could not help observing, from several publications and letters, that my name had been sometimes spoken of, and that it was possible the contingency which is the subject of your letter might happen, yet I thought it best to maintain a guarded silence, and to lack the counsel of my best friends (which I certainly hold in the highest estimation), rather than to hazard an imputation unfriendly to the delicacy of my feelings. For, situated as I am, I could hardly bring the question into the slightest discussion, or ask an opinion even in the most confidential manner, without betraying, in my judgment, some impropriety of conduct, or without feeling an apprehension that a premature display of anxiety might be construed into a vainglorious desire of pushing myself into notice as a candidate. Now, if I am not grossly deceived in myself, I should unfeignedly rejoice, in case the electors, by giving their votes in favor of some other person, would save me from the dreadful dilemma of being forced to accept or refuse. If that may not be, I am, in the next place, earnestly desirous of searching out the truth, and of knowing whether there does not exist a probability that the government would be just as happily and effectually carried into execution without my aid as with it. I am truly solicitous to obtain all the previous information which the circumstances will afford, and to determine (when the determination can with propriety be no longer postponed), according to the principles of right reason and the dictates of a clear conscience, without too great a reference to the unforeseen consequences which may affect my person or reputation. Until that period, I may fairly hold myself open to conviction, though I allow your sentiments to have weight in them, and I shall not pass by your arguments without giving them as dispassionate a consideration as I can possibly bestow upon them.

"In taking a survey of the subject, in whatever point of light I have been able to place it, I will not suppress the acknowledgment, my dear sir, that I have always felt a kind of gloom upon my mind, as often as I have been taught to expect I might, and perhaps must ere long, be called to make a decision. You will, I am well assured, believe the assertion (though I have little expectation it would gain credit from those who are less acquainted with me), that if I should receive the appointment, and should be prevailed upon to accept it, the acceptance would be attended with more diffidence and reluctance than ever I experienced before in my life. It would be, however, with a fixed and sole determination of lending whatever assistance might be in my power to promote the public weal, in hopes that at a convenient and an early period, my services might be dispensed with, and that I might be permitted once more to retire—to pass an unclouded evening, after the stormy day of life, in the bosom of domestic tranquility."

This correspondence was thus closed by Hamilton: "I feel a conviction that you will finally see your acceptance to be indispensable. It is no compliment to say that no other man can sufficiently unite the public opinion, or can give the requisite weight to the office, in the commencement of the government. These considerations appear to me of themselves decisive. I am not sure that your refusal would not throw everything into confusion. I am sure that it would have the worst effect imaginable.

"Indeed, as I hinted in a former letter, I think circumstances leave no option."

Although this correspondence does not appear to have absolutely decided Washington on the part he should embrace, it could not have been without its influence on his judgment, nor have failed to dispose him to yield to the wish of his country. "I would willingly," said he, to his estimable friend, General Lincoln, who had also pressed the subject on him, "pass over in silence that part of your letter in which you mention the persons who are candidates for the two first offices in the executive, if I did not fear the omission might seem to betray a want of confidence. Motives of delicacy have prevented me hitherto from conversing or writing on this subject, whenever I could avoid it with decency. I may, however, with great sincerity, and I believe without offending against modesty or propriety, say to you that I most heartily wish the choice to which you allude might not fall upon me; and that if it should, I must reserve to myself the right of making up my final decision at the last moment, when it can be brought into one view and when the expediency or inexpediency of a refusal can be more judiciously determined than at present. But be assured, my dear sir, if from any inducement I shall be persuaded ultimately to accept, it will not be (so far as I know my own heart) from any of a private or personal nature. Every personal consideration conspires to rivet me (if I may use the expression) to retirement. At my time of life, and under my circumstances, nothing in this world can ever draw me from it, unless it be a conviction that the partiality of my countrymen had made my services absolutely necessary, joined to a fear that my refusal might induce a belief that I preferred the conservation of my own reputation and private ease to the good of my country. After all, if I should conceive myself in a manner constrained to accept, I call Heaven to witness that this very act would be the greatest sacrifice of my personal feelings and wishes that ever I have been called upon to make. It would be to forego repose and domestic enjoyment for trouble—perhaps for public obloquy; for I should consider myself as entering upon an unexplored field, enveloped on every side with clouds and darkness.

"From this embarrassing situation I had naturally supposed that my declarations at the close of the war would have saved me, and that my sincere intentions, then publicly made known, would have effectually precluded me forever afterward from being looked upon as a candidate for any office. This hope, as a last anchor of worldly happiness in old age, I had still carefully preserved, until the public papers and private letters from my correspondents in almost every quarter taught me to apprehend that I might soon be obliged to answer the question whether I would go again into public life or not."

"I can say little or nothing new," said he in a letter to Lafayette, "in consequence of the repetition of your opinion on the expediency there will be for my accepting the office to which you refer. Your sentiments, indeed, coincide much more nearly with those of my other friends than with my own feelings. In truth, my difficulties increase and magnify as I draw toward the period when, according to the common belief, it will be necessary for me to give a definitive answer in one way or other. Should circumstances render it, in a manner, inevitably necessary to be in the affirmative, be assured, my dear sir, I shall assume the task with the most unfeigned reluctance and with a real diffidence, for which I shall probably receive no credit from the world. If I know my own heart, nothing short of a conviction of duty will induce me again to take an active part in public affairs. And in that case, if I can form a plan for my own conduct, my endeavors shall be unremittingly exerted (even at the hazard of former fame or present popularity) to extricate my country from the embarrassments in which it is entangled through want of credit, and to establish a general system of policy which, if pursued, will insure permanent felicity to the commonwealth. I think I see a path, as clear and as direct as a ray of light, which leads to the attainment of that object. Nothing but harmony, honesty, industry, and frugality are necessary to make us a great and happy people. Happily, the present posture of affairs, and the prevailing disposition of my countrymen, promise to cooperate in establishing those four great and essential pillars of public felicity."

After the electors had been chosen, and before the electoral colleges met, Washington was assailed with the usual importunities of office-seekers.

As marking the frame of mind with which he came into the government, the following extract is given from one of the many letters written to persons whose pretensions he was disposed to favor. "Should it become absolutely necessary for me to occupy the station in which your letter presupposes me, I have determined to go into it perfectly free from all engagements of every nature whatsoever. A conduct in conformity to this resolution would enable me, in balancing the various pretensions of different candidates for appointments, to act with a sole reference to justice and the public good. This is, in substance, the answer that I have given to all applications (and they are not few) which have already been made. Among the places sought after in these applications, I must not conceal that the office to which you particularly allude is comprehended. This fact I tell you merely as matter of information. My general manner of thinking, as to the propriety of holding myself totally disengaged, will apologize for my not enlarging further on the subject.

"Though I am sensible that the public suffrage which places a man in office should prevent him from being swayed, in the execution of it, by his private inclinations, yet he may assuredly, without violating his duty, be indulged in the continuance of his former attachments."

Although the time appointed for the new government to commence its operations was the 4th of March, 1789, the members of Congress were so dilatory in their attendance that a House of Representatives was not formed till the 1st nor a Senate till the 6th of April.

When at length the votes for President and Vice-President were opened and counted in the Senate, it was found that Washington was unanimously elected President, and that the second number of votes was given to John Adams. George Washington and John Adams were therefore declared to be duly elected President and Vice-President of the United States, to serve for four years from the 4th of March, 1789.

In a letter to General Knox, just before this announcement, Washington thus adverts to the delay in forming a quorum of Congress: "I feel for those members of the new Congress, who, hitherto, have given an unavailing attendance at the theater of action. For myself, the delay may be compared to a reprieve; for, in confidence, I tell you (with the world it would obtain little credit) that my movements to the chair of government will be accompanied by feelings not unlike those of a culprit who is going to the place of his execution; so unwilling am I, in the evening of life, nearly consumed in public cares, to quit a peaceful abode for an ocean of difficulties, without that competency of political skill, abilities, and inclination which are necessary to manage the helm. I am sensible that I am embarking the voice of the people, and a good name of my own, on this voyage; but what returns will be made for them heaven alone can foretell. Integrity and firmness are all I can promise; these, be the voyage long or short, shall never forsake me, although I may be deserted by all men; for of the consolations which are to be derived from these, under any circumstances, the world cannot deprive me." There is every reason to believe that the diffidence expressed in the above was sincere. It is perfectly consistent with the unaffected modesty of Washington's character.

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cipal and interest, and to have at the end of ten years twenty-six dollars and eighty-eight cents funded at the like interest and rate of redemption.

In addition to these propositions, the creditors were to have an option of vesting their money in annuities on different plans, and it was also recommended to open a loan at five per cent, for ten millions of dollars, payable one-half in specie and the other half in the debt, irredeemable by any payment exceeding six dollars per annum both of principal and interest.

By way of experiment, a tontine, on principles stated in the report, was also suggested.

The secretary was restrained from proposing to fund the whole debt immediately at the current rate of interest, by the opinion, "that although such a provision might not exceed the abilities of the country, it would require the extension of taxation to a degree and to objects which the true interests of the creditors themselves would forbid. It was therefore to be hoped and expected that they would cheerfully concur in such modifications of their claims, on fair and equitable principles as would facilitate to the government an arrangement substantial, durable, and satisfactory to the community. Exigencies might ere long arise which would call for resources greatly beyond what was now deemed sufficient for the current service, and should the faculties of the country be exhausted or even strained to provide for the public debt, there could be less reliance on the sacredness of the provision.

"But while he yielded to the force of these considerations, he did not lose sight of those fundamental principles of good faith which dictate that every practicable exertion ought to be made, scrupulously to fulfill the engagements of government; that no change in the rights of its creditors ought to be attempted without their voluntary consent, and that this consent ought to be voluntary in fact, as well as in name. Consequently, that every proposal of a change ought to be in the shape of an appeal to their reason and to their interest, not to their necessities. To this end, it was requisite that a fair equivalent should be offered for what might be asked to be given up and unquestionable security for the remainder." This fair equivalent for the proposed reduction of interest was, he thought, offered in the relinquishment of the power to redeem the whole debt at pleasure.

That a free judgment might be exercised by the holders of public securities in accepting or rejecting the terms offered by the government, provision was made in the report for paying to nonsubscribing creditors a dividend of the surplus which should remain in the treasury after paying the interest of the proposed loans; but, as the funds immediately to be provided were calculated to produce only four per cent. on the entire debt, the dividend, for the present, was not to exceed that rate of interest.

To enable the treasury to support this increased demand upon it, an augmentation of the duties on imported wines, spirits, tea, and coffee was proposed and a duty on homemade spirits was also recommended.

This celebrated report, which has been alike the fruitful theme of extravagant praise and bitter censure, merits the more attention, because the first regular and systematic opposition to the principles on which the affairs of the Union were administered, originated in the measures which were founded on it.

On the 28th of January (1790), says Marshall, this subject was taken up, and, after some animadversions on the speculations in the public debt to which the report, it was said, had already given birth, the business was postponed until the 8th of February, when it was again brought forward.

Several resolutions affirmative of the principles contained in the report, were moved by Mr. Fitzsimmons. To the first, which respected a provision for the foreign debt, the House agreed without a dissenting voice. The second, in favor of appropriating permanent funds for payment of the interest on the domestic debt and for the gradual redemption of the principal, gave rise to a very animated debate. {1}

Mr. Jackson declared his hostility to funding systems generally. To prove their pernicious influence, he appealed to the histories of Florence, Genoa, and Great Britain, and contending that the subject ought to be deferred until North Carolina should be represented, moved that the committee should rise. This question being decided in the negative, Mr. Scott declared the opinion that the United States were not bound to pay the domestic creditors the sums specified in the certificates of debts in their possession. He supported this opinion by urging, not that the public had received less value than was expressed on the face of the paper which had been issued, but that those to whom it had been delivered by parting with it at two shillings and sixpence in the pound, had themselves fixed the value of their claims, and had manifested their willingness to add to their other sacrifices this deduction from their demand upon the nation. He therefore moved to amend the resolution before the committee so as to require a resettlement of the debt.

The amendment was opposed by Mr. Boudinot, Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Ames, Mr. Sherman, Mr. Hartley, and Mr. Goodhue. They stated at large the terms on which the debt had been contracted, and urged the confidence which the creditors had a right to place in the government for its discharge according to settlements already made, and acknowledgments already given. The idea that the legislative body could diminish an ascertained debt was reprobated with great force, as being at the same time unjust, impolitic, and subversive of every principle on which public contracts are founded. The evidences of debt possessed by the creditors of the United States were considered as public bonds, for the redemption of which the property and the labor of the people were pledged.

After the debate had been protracted to some length, the question was taken on Mr. Scott's amendment, and it passed in the negative.

Mr. Madison then rose, and, in an eloquent speech, replete with argument, proposed an amendment to the resolution, the effect of which was to discriminate between the public creditors, so as to pay the present holder of assignable paper the highest price it had borne in the market, and give the residue to the person with whom the debt was originally contracted. Where the original creditor had never parted with his claim, he was to receive the whole sum acknowledged to be due on the face of the certificate.

This motion was supported by Mr. Jackson, Mr. White, Mr. Moore, Mr. Page, Mr. Stone, Mr. Scott, and Mr. Seney.

It was opposed with great earnestness and strength of argument by Mr. Sedgewic, Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Smith, of South Carolina, Mr. Ames, Mr. Gerry, Mr. Boudinot, Mr. Wadsworth, Mr. Goodhue, Mr. Hartley, Mr. Bland, Mr. Benson, Mr. Burke, and Mr. Livermore.

The argument was ably supported on both sides, was long, animated, and interesting. At length the question was put and the amendment was rejected by a great majority.

This discussion deeply engaged the public attention. The proposition was new and interesting. That the debt ought to be diminished for the public advantage, was an opinion which had frequently been advanced, and was maintained by many. But a reduction from the claims of its present holders for the benefit of those who had sold their rights, was a measure which saved nothing to the public purse, and was therefore recommended only by considerations, the operation of which can never be very extensive. Against it were arrayed all who had made purchases, and a great majority of those who conceived that sound policy and honest dealing require a literal observance of public contracts.

Although the decision of Congress against a discrimination in favor of the original creditor produced no considerable sensation, the determination on that part of the secretary's report which was the succeeding subject of deliberation, affecting political interests and powers which are never to be approached without danger, seemed to unchain all those fierce passions which a high respect for the government, and for those who administered it, had in a great measure restrained.

The manner in which the several States entered into and conducted the war of the Revolution, is well known. Acting in some respects separately, and in others conjointly, for the attainment of a common object, their resources were exerted, sometimes under the authority of Congress, sometimes under the authority of the local government, to repel the enemy wherever he appeared. The debt incurred in support of the war was, therefore, in the first instance, contracted partly by Congress and partly by the States. When the system of requisitions was adopted, the transactions of the Union were carried on almost entirely through the agency of the States, and, when the measure of compensating the army for the depreciation of their pay became necessary, this burden, under the recommendation of Congress, was assumed by the respective States. Some had funded this debt, and paid the interest upon it. Others had made no provision for the interest; but all, by taxes, paper money, or purchase, had in some measure reduced the principal. In their exertions some degree of inequality had obtained, and they looked anxiously to a settlement of accounts, for the ascertainment of claims which each supposed itself to have upon the Union. Measures to effect this object had been taken by the former government, but they were slow in their progress, and intrinsic difficulties were found in the thing itself, not easily to be overcome.

Hamilton proposed to assume these debts and to fund them in common with that which continued to be the proper debt of the Union.

The resolution which comprehended this principle of the report was vigorously opposed.

It was contended that the general government would acquire an undue influence, and that the State governments would be annihilated by the measure. Not only would all the influence of the public creditors be thrown into the scale of the former, but it would absorb all the powers of taxation, and leave to the latter only the shadow of a government. This would probably terminate in rendering the State governments useless, and would destroy the system so recently established. The Union, it was said, had been compared to a rope of sand, but gentlemen were cautioned not to push things to the opposite extreme. The attempt to strengthen it might be unsuccessful, and the cord might be strained until it should break.

The constitutional authority of the Federal government to assume the debts of the States was questioned. Its powers, it was said, were specified, and this was not among them.

The policy of the measure, as it affected merely the government of the Union, was controverted, and its justice was arraigned.

On the ground of policy, it was objected that the assumption would impose on the United States a burden, the weight of which was unascertained, and which would require an extension of taxation beyond the limits which prudence would prescribe. An attempt to raise the impost would be dangerous, and the excise added to it would not produce funds adequate to the object. A tax on real estate must be resorted to, objections to which had been made in every part of the Union. It would be more advisable to leave this source of revenue untouched in the hands of the State governments, who could apply to it with more facility, with a better understanding of the subject, and with less dissatisfaction to individuals, than could possibly be done by the government of the United States.

There existed no necessity for taking up this burden. The State creditors had not required it. There was no petition from them upon the subject. There was not only no application from the States, but there was reason to believe that they were seriously opposed to the measure. Many of them would certainly view it with a jealous—a jaundiced eye. The convention of North Carolina which adopted the constitution had proposed, as an amendment to it, to deprive Congress of the power of interfering between the respective States and their creditors, and there could be no obligation to assume more than the balances which on a final settlement would be found due to creditor States.

That the debt by being thus accumulated would be perpetuated, was also an evil of real magnitude. Many of the States had already made considerable progress in extinguishing their debts, and the process might certainly be carried on more rapidly by them than by the Union. A public debt seemed to be considered by some as a public blessing, but to this doctrine they were not converts. If, as they believed, a public debt was a public evil, it would be enormously increased by adding those of the States to that of the Union.

The measure was unwise, too, as it would affect public credit. Such an augmentation of the debt must inevitably depreciate its value, since it was the character of paper, whatever denomination it might assume, to diminish in value in proportion to the quantity in circulation.

It would also increase an evil which was already sensibly felt. The State debts, when assumed by the continent, would, as that of the Union had already done, accumulate in large cities; and the dissatisfaction excited by the payment of taxes would be increased by perceiving that the money raised from the people flowed into the hands of a few individuals. Still greater mischief was to be apprehended. A great part of this additional debt would go into the hands of foreigners, and the United States would be heavily burdened to pay an interest which could not be expected to remain in the country.

The measure was unjust, because it was burdening those States which had taxed themselves highly to discharge the claims of their creditors with the debts of those which had not made the same exertions. It would delay the settlement of accounts between the individual States and the United States, and the supporters of the measure were openly charged with intending to defeat that settlement.

It was also said that in its execution the scheme would be found extremely embarrassing, perhaps impracticable. The case of a partial accession to the measure by the creditors, a case which would probably occur, presented a difficulty for which no provision was made, and of which no solution had been given. Should the creditors in some States come into the system, and those in others refuse to change their security, the government would be involved in perplexities from which no means of extricating itself had been shown. Nor would it be practicable to discriminate between the debts contracted for general and for local objects.

In the course of the debate severe allusions were made to the conduct of particular States, and the opinions advanced in favor of the measure were ascribed to local interests.

In support of the assumption, the debts of the States were traced to their origin. America, it was said, had engaged in a war the object of which was equally interesting to every part of the Union. It was not the war of a particular State, but of the United States. It was not the liberty and independence of a part, but of the whole, for which they had contended, and which they had acquired. The cause was a common cause. As brethren, the American people had consented to hazard property and life in its defense. All the sums expended in the attainment of this great object, whatever might be the authority under which they were raised or appropriated, conduced to the same end. Troops were raised, and military stores purchased, before Congress assumed the command of the army or the control of the war. The ammunition which repulsed the enemy at Bunker's Hill was purchased by Massachusetts, and formed a part of the debt of that State.

Nothing could be more erroneous than the principle which had been assumed in argument, that the holders of securities issued by individual States were to be considered merely as State creditors, as if the debt had been contracted on account of the particular State. It was contracted on account of the Union, in that common cause in which all were equally interested.

From the complex nature of the political system which had been adopted in America, the war was, in a great measure, carried on through the agency of the State governments, and the debts were, in truth, the debts of the Union, for which the States had made themselves responsible. Except the civil list, the whole State expenditure was in the prosecution of the war, and the State taxes had undeniably exceeded the provision for their civil list. The foundation for the several classes of the debt was reviewed in detail, and it was affirmed to be proved from the review, and from the books in the public offices, that, in its origin, a great part of it, even in form, and the whole, in fact, was equitably due from the continent. The States individually possessing all the resources of the nation, became responsible to certain descriptions of the public creditors. But they were the agents of the continent in contracting the debt, and its distribution among them for payment arose from the division of political power which existed under the old confederation. A new arrangement of the system had taken place, and a power over the resources of the nation was conferred on the general government. With the funds the debt also ought to be assumed. This investigation of its origin demonstrated that the assumption was not the creation of a new debt, but the reacknowledgment of liability for an old one, the payment of which had devolved on those members of the system who, at the time, were alone capable of paying it. And thence was inferred not only the justice of the measure, but a complete refutation of the arguments drawn from the constitution. If, in point of fact, the debt was in its origin continental and had been transferred to the States for greater facility of payment, there could be no constitutional objection to restoring its original and real character.

The great powers of war, of taxation, and of borrowing money, which were vested in Congress to pay the debts and provide for the common defense and general welfare of the United States, comprised that in question. There could be no more doubt of their right to charge themselves with the payment of a debt contracted in the past war, than to borrow money for the prosecution of a future war. The impolicy of leaving the public creditors to receive payment from different sources was also strongly pressed, and the jealousy which would exist between the creditors of the Union and of the States was considered as a powerful argument in favor of giving them one common interest. This jealousy, it was feared, might be carried so far as even to create an opposition to the laws of the Union.

If the State should provide for their creditors, the same sum of money must be collected from the people as would be required if the debt should be assumed, and it would probably be collected in a manner more burdensome than if one uniform system should be established. If all should not make such provision, it would be unjust to leave the soldier of one State unpaid, while the services of the man who fought by his side were amply compensated, and, after having assumed the funds, it would dishonor the general government to permit a creditor, for services rendered or property advanced for the continent, to remain unsatisfied, because his claim had been transferred to the State at a time when the State alone possessed the means of payment. By the injured and neglected creditor such an arrangement might justly be considered as a disreputable artifice.

Instead of delaying, it was believed to be a measure which would facilitate the settlement of accounts between the States. Its advocates declared that they did not entertain and never had entertained any wish to procrastinate a settlement. On the contrary it was greatly desired by them. They had themselves brought forward propositions for that purpose, and they invited their adversaries to assist in improving the plan which had been introduced.

The settlement between the States, it was said, either would or would not be made. Should it ever take place, it would remedy any inequalities which might grow out of the assumption. Should it never take place, the justice of the measure became the more apparent. That the burdens in support of a common war, which from various causes had devolved unequally on the States, ought to be apportioned among them, was a truth too clear to be controverted, and this, if the settlement should never be accomplished, could be effected only by the measure now proposed. Indeed, in any event, it would be the only certain, as well as only eligible plan. For how were the debtor States to be compelled to pay the balances which should be found against them?

If the measure was recommended by considerations which rendered its ultimate adoption inevitable, the present was clearly preferable to any future time. It was desirable immediately to quiet the minds of the public creditors by assuring them that justice would be done, to simplify the forms of public debt, and to put an end to that speculation which had been so much reprobated and which could be terminated only by giving the debt a real and permanent value.

That the assumption would impair the just influence of the States was controverted with great strength of argument. The diffusive representation in the State Legislatures, the intimate connection between the representative and his constituents, the influence of the State Legislatures over the members of one branch of the national Legislature, the nature of the powers exercise by the State governments, which perpetually presented them to the people in a point of view calculated to lay hold of the public affections, were guarantees that the States would retain their due weight in the political system and that a debt was not necessary to the solidity or duration of their power.

But the argument, it was said, proved too much. If a debt was now essential to the preservation of State authority it would always be so. It must therefore never be extinguished, but must be perpetuated in order to secure the existence of the State governments. If, for this purpose, it was indispensable that the expenses of the Revolutionary War should be borne by the States, it would not be less indispensable that the expenses of future wars should be borne in the same manner. Either the argument was unfounded or the constitution was wrong, and the powers of the sword and the purse ought not to have been conferred on the government of the Union. Whatever speculative opinions might be entertained on this point, they were to administer the government according to the principles of the constitution as it was framed. But, it was added, if so much power followed the assumption as the objection implies, is it not time to ask—is it safe to forbear assuming? If the power is so dangerous it will be so when exercised by the States. If assuming tends to consolidation, is the reverse, tending to disunion, a less weighty objection? If it is answered that the non-assumption will not necessarily tend to disunion, neither, it may be replied, does the assumption necessarily tend to consolidation.

It was not admitted that the assumption would tend to perpetuate the debt. It could not be presumed that the general government would be less willing than the local governments to discharge it; nor could it be presumed that the means were less attainable by the former than the latter.

It was not contended that a public debt was a public blessing. Whether a debt was to be preferred to no debt was not the question. The debt was already contracted, and the question so far as policy might be consulted, was, whether it was more for the public advantage to give it such a form as would render it applicable to the purposes of a circulating medium, or to leave it a mere subject of speculation, incapable of being employed to any useful purpose. The debt was admitted to be an evil, but it was an evil from which, if wisely modified, some benefit might be extracted, and which, in its present state, could have only a mischievous operation.

If the debt should be placed on adequate funds, its operation on public credit could not be pernicious; in its present precarious condition, there was much more to be apprehended in that respect.

To the objection that it would accumulate in large cities, it was answered it would be a moneyed capital, and would be held by those who chose to place money at interest, but by funding the debt the present possessors would be enabled to part with it at its nominal value, instead of selling it at its present current rate. If it should center in the hands of foreigners, the sooner it was appreciated to its proper standard, the greater quantity of specie would its transfer bring into the United States.

To the injustice of charging those States which had made great exertions for the payment of their debts with the burden properly belonging to those which had not made such exertions, it was answered that every State must be considered as having exerted itself to the utmost of its resources, and that if it could not or would not make provision for creditors to whom the Union was equitably bound, the argument in favor of an assumption was the stronger.

The arguments drawn from local interests were repelled and retorted, and a great degree of irritation was excited on both sides.

After a very animated discussion of several days, the question was taken, and the resolution was carried by a small majority. Soon after this decision, while the subject was pending before the House, the delegates from North Carolina took their seats, and changed the strength of parties. By a majority of two voices, the resolution was recommitted, and, after a long and ardent debate, was negatived by the same majority.

This proposition continued to be supported with a degree of earnestness which its opponents termed pertinacious, but not a single opinion was changed. It was brought forward in the new and less exceptionable form of assuming specific sums from each State. Under this modification of the principle, the extraordinary contributions of particular States during the war, and their exertions since the peace, might be regarded, and the objections to the measure, drawn from the uncertainty of the sum to be assumed, would be removed. But these alterations produced no change of sentiment, and the bill was sent up to the Senate with a provision for those creditors only whose certificates of debt purported to be payable by the Union.

In this state of things the measure is understood to have derived aid from another, which was of a nature strongly to interest particular parts of the Union.

From the month of June, 1783, when Congress was driven from Philadelphia by the mutiny of a part of the Pennsylvania line, the necessity of selecting some place for a permanent residence, in which the government of the Union might exercise sufficient authority to protect itself from violence and insult, had been generally acknowledged. Scarcely any subject had occupied more time, or had more agitated the members of the former Congress than this.

In December, 1784, an ordinance was passed for appointing commissioners to purchase land on the Delaware, in the neighborhood of its falls, and to erect thereon the necessary public buildings for the reception of Congress and the officers of government; but the southern interest had been sufficiently strong to arrest the execution of this ordinance by preventing an appropriation of funds, which required the assent of nine States. Under the existing government, this subject had received the early attention of Congress, and many different situations, from the Delaware to the Potomac inclusive, had been earnestly supported, but a majority of both houses had not concurred in favor of any one place. With as little success, attempts had been made to change the temporary residence of Congress. Although New York was obviously too far to the east, so many conflicting interests were brought into operation whenever the subject was touched, that no motion designating a more central place could succeed. At length, a compact respecting the temporary and permanent seat of government was entered into between the friends of Philadelphia and the Potomac, stipulating that Congress should adjourn to and hold its sessions in Philadelphia for ten years, during which time buildings for the accommodation of the government should be erected at some place on the Potomac, to which the government should remove at the expiration of the term. This compact having united the representatives of Pennsylvania and Delaware with the friends of the Potomac, in favor both of the temporary and permanent residence which had been agreed on between them, a majority was produced in favor of the two situations, and a bill which was brought into the Senate in conformity with this previous arrangement, passed both houses by small majorities. This act was immediately followed by an amendment to the bill then depending before the Senate for funding the debt of the Union. The amendment was similar in principle to that which had been unsuccessfully proposed in the House of Representatives. By its provisions, $21,500,000 of the State debts were assumed in specified proportions, and it was particularly enacted that no certificate should be received from a State creditor which could be "ascertained to have been issued for any purpose other than compensations and expenditures for services or supplies toward the prosecution of the late war and the defense of the United States, or of some part thereof, during the same."

When the question was taken in the House of Representatives on this amendment two members, representing districts on the Potomac, who, in all the previous stages of the business, had voted against the assumption, declared themselves in its favor, and thus the majority was changed. {2}

Thus was a measure carried which was supported and opposed with a degree of zeal and earnestness not often manifested, and which furnished presages, not to be mistaken, that the spirit with which the opposite opinions had been maintained, would not yield, contentedly, to the decision of a bare majority. This measure has constituted one of the great grounds of accusation against the first administration of the general government, and it is fair to acknowledge that though, in its progress, it derived no aid from the President, whose opinion remained in his own bosom, it received the full approbation of his judgment.

A bill at length passed both houses, funding the debt upon principles which lessened considerably the weight of the public burdens and was entirely satisfactory to the public creditors. The proceeds of the sales of the lands lying in the western territory and, by a subsequent act of the same session, the surplus product of the revenue, after satisfying the appropriations which were charged upon it with the addition of $2,000,000, which the President was authorized to borrow at 5 per cent., constituted a sinking fund to be applied to the reduction of the debt.

The effect of this measure was great and rapid. The public paper suddenly rose and was for a short time above par. The immense wealth which individuals acquired by this unexpected appreciation could not be viewed with indifference. Those who participated in its advantages regarded the author of a system to which they were so greatly indebted, with an enthusiasm of attachment to which scarcely any limits were assigned. To many others this adventitious collection of wealth in particular hands was a subject rather of chagrin than of pleasure, and the reputation which the success of his plans gave to the Secretary of the Treasury was not contemplated with unconcern. As if the debt had been created by the existing government, not by a war which gave liberty and independence to the United States, its being funded was ascribed by many, not to a sense of justice and to a liberal and enlightened policy, but to the desire of bestowing on the government an artificial strength, by the creation of a moneyed interest which would be subservient to its will. The effects produced by giving the debt a permanent value justified the predictions of those whose anticipations had been most favorable. The sudden increase of moneyed capital derived from it invigorated commerce and gave a new stimulus to agriculture.

About this time there was a great and visible improvement in the circumstances of the people. Although the funding system was certainly not inoperative in producing this improvement it cannot be justly ascribed to any single cause. Progressive industry had gradually repaired the losses sustained by the war, and the influence of the constitution on habits of thinking and acting, though silent, was considerable. In depriving the States of the power to impair the obligation of contracts or to make anything but gold and silver a tender in payment of debts, the conviction was impressed on that portion of society which had looked to the government for relief from embarrassment that personal exertions alone could free them from difficulties, and an increased degree of industry and economy was the natural consequence of this opinion. {3}

Various other matters besides those already noticed, occupied the attention of Congress during this laborious session. The question of the slave trade was brought up by a petition from the Quakers in Pennsylvania, Delaware, and other States, and the venerable Dr. Franklin, as president of the Pennsylvania Society for Promoting the Abolition of Slavery, sent in a memorial, early in February, asking the serious attention of Congress to the importance and duty of extending to the negroes the blessings of freedom. The subject was discussed at great length and with much warmth on both sides, and toward the close of March it was resolved, "That Congress have no authority to interfere in the emancipation of slaves, or in the treatment of them within any of the States." Laws for the naturalization of aliens, after two years' residence, for the patenting of useful inventions, and for securing to authors the copyright of their works; and others, regulating the mercantile marine of the Union, in respect to the seamen engaged in it; and forming a groundwork for a criminal code; for the ordering of what was called "the military establishment," only 1,216 rank and file; and for arranging the means of intercourse with the Indians in respect to trade and the acquisition of their hunting-grounds, and with European governments for the larger commerce which required the superintendence of resident ministers—these were duly considered and framed. Much other business was done, such as voting for the public service, under the heads of the civil list, pensions for revolutionary services, the military establishment, lighthouses, embassies, and outstanding debts, the moderate sum of about $725,000.

Both houses, having returned thanks to the corporation of the city of New York, "for the elegant and convenient accommodations furnished the Congress of the United States," adjourned on the 12th of August (1790), to meet again in December, in the city of Philadelphia.

Washington's old and valued friend, Dr. Franklin, after painful and protracted sufferings, closed a life of four-score and four years on the 17th of April, 1790. He was buried in the cemetery of Christ Church, Philadelphia, and his funeral was attended by more than 20,000 of his fellow-citizens. Congress resolved to wear the customary badge of mourning for one month, "as a mark of veneration due to the memory of a citizen, whose native genius was not more an ornament to human nature than his various exertions of it have been precious to science, to freedom, and to his country." In the National Assembly of France, Mirabeau eloquently dilated in praise of the illustrious deceased, and Lafayette seconded the motion for a decree, ordering the members to wear the usual badge of mourning for three days, and there was not a land blessed with the light of civilization which did not lament his death and pour forth expressions of sorrow for the loss which not only America, but the world had sustained.

An act was passed by Congress to accept the cession of the claims of the State of North Carolina, to a certain district of western territory, and on the 20th of May, provision was made for its government, under the title of "The Territory of the United States south of the river Ohio."

On the 29th of May, 1790, Rhode Island, having become somewhat more alive to her true interests and to the ill results which must certainly follow her exclusion from the Union, adopted the constitution and cast in her lot with the sister States for the great future which was opening before them all.

A treaty of peace was concluded in August of this year with the Creek Indians which restored tranquility to the people of Georgia. The pacific overtures made to the Indians of the Wabash and the Miamis had not been equally successful. The western frontiers were still exposed to their incursions, and there was much reason to apprehend that the people of Kentucky and of the western counties of the middle States could only be relieved from the horrors of savage warfare by an exertion of the military strength of the Union. In the opinion of the President, the emergency required the immediate employment of a force competent to the object and which should carry terror and destruction into the heart of the hostile settlements. The people of the West, however, declared their opinion in favor of desultory military expeditions, and Congress indulged their wishes. The desire of the executive for a military establishment equal to the exigency was not regarded and the distresses of the frontier inhabitants therefore still continued.

The conduct of Spain in relation to the disputed boundary, and its pretensions to the navigation of the Mississippi, was such as to give ground to fear that its dispositions toward the United States were unfriendly. Between the United States and England the nonexecution of several articles of the treaty of peace still furnished matter for reciprocal crimination which there was the more difficulty in removing because there was no diplomatic intercourse maintained between them. Under the old government, Mr. Adams' mission had been treated with neglect, and the new administration was not disposed to subject itself to a similar mark of disrespect. Mr. Gouverneur Morris was instructed, as an informal agent to the British government, to sound its views respecting amicable and permanent arrangements of the matters in dispute. But Mr. Morris remarked, "that there never was, perhaps, a moment in which this country (Britain) felt herself greater, and, consequently, it is the most unfavorable moment to obtain advantageous terms from her in any bargain." He conducted his mission with ability and address, but was unable to bring it to a satisfactory conclusion. The communications laid before the American government at the same time by Major Beckwith, an English gentlemen, who had come in an informal manner to learn the dispositions of the American government towards England and Spain, between which a rupture was expected, gave Washington an insight of the object of the delays which had been practiced with Mr. Morris. He was persuaded that a disposition existed in the cabinet of London to retain things in their actual situation until the intentions of the American government should be ascertained with respect to the war supposed to be approaching. If America would make a common cause with Great Britain against Spain, the way would be smoothed to the attainment of all their objects, but if America should incline toward Spain, no adjustment of the points of difference between the two nations would be made. He therefore determined to hold himself free to pursue without reproach, in the expected war, such a course as the interest and honor of the United States might dictate. The want of official authenticity in the communications of Mr. Beckwith was, therefore, signified to that gentleman as a reason for reserve on the part of the government and the powers given to Mr. Morris were withdrawn. It was determined that things should remain in their actual situation until a change of circumstances should require a change of conduct. Scarcely had this resolution been adopted when the dispute between Britain and Spain was adjusted, and thus both the fear of inconveniences, and the hope of advantages which might result to America from war between the two powers, were terminated.

By his incessant application to public business and the consequent change of active for sedentary habits, the constitution of the President seemed much impaired and during the second session of Congress he had, for the second time since entering upon the duties of his office, been attacked by a severe disease, which reduced him to the brink of the grave. Exercise, and a temporary relief from the cares of office, being essential to the restoration of his health, he determined for the short interval afforded by the recess of the Legislature to retire from the fatigues of public life to the tranquil shades of Mount Vernon. Previously, however, he made a visit to Rhode Island, which, not having been a member of the Union at the time of his late tour through New England, had not been visited by him at that time.

His final departure from New York was not less affecting than his arrival had been, when he came to assume the reins of government. "It was always his habit," says Custis in his "Recollections," "to endeavor to avoid the manifestations of affection and gratitude that met him everywhere. He strove in vain—he was closely watched and the people would have their way. He wished to slip off unobserved from New York and thus steal a march upon his old companions in arms. But there were too many of the dear glorious old veterans of the Revolution at that time of day in and near New York to render such an escape possible.

"The baggage had all been packed up; the horses, carriages, and servants ordered to be over the ferry to Paulus Hook by daybreak and nothing was wanting for departure but the dawn. The lights were yet burning, when the President came into the room where his family were assembled, evidently much pleased in the belief that all was right, when, immediately under the windows, the band of the artillery struck up Washington's March. 'There,' he exclaimed, 'it's all over, we are found out. Well, well, they must have their own way.' New York soon after appeared as if taken by storm—troops and persons of all descriptions hurrying down Broadway toward the place of embarkation, all anxious to take a last look on him whom so many could never expect to see again.

"The embarkation was delayed until all the complimentary arrangements were completed. The President, after taking leave of many dear and cherished friends, and many an old companion in arms, stepped into the barge that was to convey him from New York forever. The coxswain gave the word 'let fall;' the spray from the oars sparkled in the morning sunbeams; the bowman shoved off from the pier, and, as the barge swung round to the tide, Washington rose, uncovered, in the stern, to bid adieu to the masses assembled on the shore; he waved his hat, and, in a voice tremulous from emotion, pronounced—Farewell. It may be supposed that Major Bauman, who commanded the artillery on this interesting occasion, who was first captain of Lamb's regiment, and a favorite officer of the war of the Revolution, would, when about to pay his last respects to his beloved commander, load his pieces with something more than mere blank cartridges. But ah! the thunders of the cannon were completely hushed when the mighty shout of the people arose that responded to the farewell of Washington. Pure from the heart it came, right up to Heaven it went, to call down a blessing upon the Father of his Country.

"The barge had scarcely gained the middle of the Hudson when the trumpets were heard at Paulus Hook, where the Governor and the chivalry of Jersey were in waiting to welcome the chief to those well-remembered shores. Escorts of cavalry relieved each other throughout the whole route up to the Pennsylvania line; every village, and even hamlet, turned out its population to greet with cordial welcome the man upon whom all eyes were fixed and in whom all hearts rejoiced.

"What must have been the recollections that crowded on the mind of Washington during this triumphant progress? Newark, Brunswick, Princeton, Trenton! What a contrast between the glorious burst of sunshine that now illumined and made glad everything around these memorable spots, with the gloomy and desolate remembrances of '76! Then his country's champion, with the wreck of a shattered host, was flying before a victorious and well-appointed foe, while all around him was shrouded in the darkness of despair; now, in his glorious progress over the self-same route, his firm footstep presses upon the soil of an infant empire, reposing in the joys of peace, independence, and happiness.

"Among the many who swelled his triumph, the most endeared to the heart of the chief were the old associates of his toils, his fortunes, and his fame. Many of the Revolutionary veterans were living in 1790, and, by their presence, gave a dignified tone and character to all public assemblages; and when you saw a peculiarly fine-looking soldier in those old days, and would ask: 'To what corps of the American army did you belong?' drawing himself up to his full height, with a martial air, and back of the hand thrown up to his forehead, the veteran would reply: 'Life Guard, your honor.'

"And proud and happy were these veterans in again beholding their own good Lady Washington. Greatly was she beloved in the army. Her many intercessions with the chief for the pardon of offenders—her kindness to the sick and wounded—all caused her annual arrival in camp to be hailed as an event that would serve to dissipate the gloom of the winter quarters.

"Arrived at the line, the Jersey escort was relieved by the cavalry of Pennsylvania, and, when near to Philadelphia, the President was met by Governor Mifflin and a brilliant cortege of officers, and escorted by a squadron of horse to the city. Conspicuous among the Governors suite, as well for his martial bearing as for the manly beauty of his person, was General Walter Stewart, a son of Erin, and a gallant and distinguished officer of the Pennsylvania line. To Stewart, as to Cadwallader, Washington was most warmly attached; indeed, those officers were among the very choicest of the contributions of Pennsylvania to the army and cause of independence. Mifflin, small in stature, was active, alert, 'every inch a soldier.' He was a patriot of great influence in Pennsylvania in the 'times that tried men's souls,' and nobly did he exert that influence in raising troops, with which to reinforce the wreck of the grand army at the close of the campaign of '76.

"Arrived within the city, the crowd became intense, the President left his carriage and mounted the white charger, and, with the Governor on his right, proceeded to the city tavern in Third street, where quarters were prepared for him, the light infantry, after some time, having opened a passage for the carriages. At the city tavern the President was received by the authorities of Philadelphia, who welcomed the chief magistrate to their city as to his home for the remainder of his Presidential term. A group of old and long-tried friends were also in waiting. Foremost among these, and first to grasp the hand of Washington, was one who was always nearest to his heart, a patriot and public benefactor, Robert Morris.

"After remaining a short time in Philadelphia, the President speeded on his journey to that home where he ever found rest from his weighty labors, and enjoyed the sweets of rural and domestic happiness amid his farms and at his fireside of Mount Vernon."

Whenever Washington was residing at Mount Vernon, he was accustomed to receive visits from his old and intimate friends, and to relieve his mind from the cares of state by lively and familiar conversation, and social and convivial intercourse. On one occasion, some years before the period of which we are now writing, Mr. Drayton and Mr. Izard, of South Carolina, were on a visit to Mount Vernon. {4}

After dinner, while the party were still sitting at table, the conversation turned on Arnold's treason. Mr. Lear, Washington's private secretary, was present, and after retiring he wrote down in his diary Washington's own account of that remarkable incident in our history in his own words. The extract from Mr. Lear's diary has recently been published for the first time in Mr. Rush's "Washington in Domestic Life." It is as follows:

"After dinner, Washington was, in the course of conversation, led to speak of Arnold's treachery, when he gave the following account of it, which I shall put in his own words, thus: 'I confess I had a good opinion of Arnold before his treachery was brought to light; had that not been the case I should have had some reason to suspect him sooner, for when he commanded in Philadelphia, the Marquis Lafayette brought accounts from France of the armament which was to be sent to cooperate with us in the ensuing campaign. Soon after this was known, Arnold pretended to have some private business to transact in Connecticut, and on his way there he called at my quarters, and in the course of conversation expressed a desire of quitting Philadelphia and joining the army the ensuing campaign. I told him that it was probable we should have a very active one, and that if his wound and state of health would permit, I should be extremely glad of his services with the army. He replied that he did not think his wound would permit him to take a very active part, but still he persisted in his desire of being with the army. He went on to Connecticut and on his return called again upon me. He renewed his request of being with me next campaign, and I made him the same answer I had done before. He again repeated that he did not think his wound would permit him to do active duty, and intimated a desire to have the command at West Point. I told him I did not think that would suit him, as I should leave none in the garrison but invalids, because it would be entirely covered by the main army. The subject was dropped at that time, and he returned to Philadelphia. It then appeared somewhat strange to me that a man of Arnold's known activity and enterprise should be desirous of taking so inactive a part. I however thought no more of the matter. When the French troops arrived at Rhode Island, I had intelligence from New York that General Clinton intended to make an attack upon them before they could get themselves settled and fortified. In consequence of that I was determined to attack New York, which would be left much exposed by his drawing off the British troops, and accordingly formed my line of battle and moved down with the whole army to King's ferry, which we passed. Arnold came to camp that time, and, having no command, and consequently no quarters (all the houses thereabouts being occupied by the army), he was obliged to seek lodgings at some distance from the camp. While the army was crossing at King's ferry I was going to see the last detachment over, and met Arnold, who asked me if I had thought of anything for him. I told him that he was to have the command of the light troops, which was a post of honor, and which his rank indeed entitled him to. Upon this information his countenance changed, and he appeared to be quite fallen; and, instead of thanking me, or expressing any pleasure at the appointment, never opened his mouth. I desired him to go on to my quarters and get something to refresh himself, and I would meet him there soon. He did so. Upon his arrival there he found Colonel Tilghman, whom he took aside, and, mentioning what I had told him, seemed to express great uneasiness at it—as his leg, he said, would not permit him to be long on horseback, and intimated a great desire to have the command at West Point. When I returned to my quarters Colonel Tilghman informed me of what had passed. I made no reply to it, but his behavior struck me as strange and unaccountable. In the course of that night, however, I received information from New York that General Clinton had altered his plan and was debarking his troops. This information obliged me likewise to alter my disposition and return to my former station, where I could better cover the country. I then determined to comply with Arnold's desire, and accordingly gave him the command of the garrison at West Point. Things remained in this situation about a fortnight, when I wrote to the Count Rochambeau, desiring to meet him at some intermediate place (as we could neither of us be long enough from our respective commands to visit the other), in order to lay the plan for the siege of Yorktown, and proposed Hartford, where I accordingly went and met the count. On my return I met the Chevalier Luzerne toward evening within about fifteen miles of West Point (on his way to join the count at Rhode Island), which I intended to reach that night, but he insisted upon turning back with me to the next public house, where, in politeness to him, I could not but stay all night, determining, however, to get to West Point to breakfast very early. I sent off my baggage, and desired Colonel Hamilton to go forward and inform General Arnold that I would breakfast with him. Soon after he arrived at Arnold's quarters a letter was delivered to Arnold which threw him into the greatest confusion. He told Colonel Hamilton that something required his immediate attendance at the garrison, which was on the opposite side of the river to his quarters, and immediately ordered a horse to take him to the river, and the barge, which he kept to cross, to be ready, and desired Major Franks, his aide, to inform me when I should arrive that he was gone over the river and would return immediately. When I got to his quarters and did not find him there I desired Major Franks to order me some breakfast, and, as I intended to visit the fortifications, I would see General Arnold there. After I had breakfasted I went over the river, and, inquiring for Arnold, the commanding officer told me that he had not been there. I likewise inquired at the several redoubts, but no one could give me any information where he was. The impropriety of his conduct, when he knew I was to be there, struck me very forcibly, and my mind misgave me, but I had not the least idea of the real cause. When I returned to Arnold's quarters about two hours after, and told Colonel Hamilton that I had not seen him, he gave me a packet which had just arrived for me from Colonel Jemmison, which immediately brought the matter to light. I ordered Colonel Hamilton to mount his horse and proceed with the greatest dispatch to a post on the river about eight miles below, in order to stop the barge if she had not passed, but it was too late. It seems that the letter which Arnold received which threw him into such confusion was from Colonel Jemmison, informing him that AndrÉ was taken, and that the papers found upon him were in his possession. Colonel Jemmison, when AndrÉ was taken with these papers, could not believe that Arnold was a traitor, but rather thought it was an imposition of the British in order to destroy our confidence in Arnold. He, however, immediately on their being taken, dispatched an express after me, ordering him to ride night and day till he came up with me. The express went the lower road, which was the road by which I had gone to Connecticut, expecting that I would return by the same route, and that he would meet me, but before he had proceeded far he was informed that I was returning by the upper road. He then cut across the country and followed in my track till I arrived at West Point. He arrived about two hours after and brought the above packet. When Arnold got down to the barge, he ordered his men, who were very clever fellows and some of the better sort of soldiery, to proceed immediately on board the Vulture, sloop-of-war, as a flag, which was lying down the river, saying that they must be very expeditious, as he must return in a short time to meet me, and promised them two gallons of rum if they would exert themselves. They did, accordingly, but when they got on board the Vulture, instead of their two gallons of rum, he ordered the coxswain to be called down into the cabin, and informed him that he and the men must consider themselves as prisoners. The coxswain was very much astonished, and told him that they came on board under the sanction of a flag. He answered that that was nothing to the purpose; they were prisoners. But the captain of the Vulture had more generosity than this pitiful scoundrel, and told the coxswain that he would take his parole for going on shore to get clothes, and whatever else was wanted for himself and his companions. He accordingly came, got his clothes, and returned on board. When they got to New York, General Clinton, ashamed of so low and mean an action, set them all at liberty.'"

This narrative, from the lips of Washington himself, throws much additional light on Arnold's treason. It is also interesting to the general reader, as affording a specimen of Washington's style in conversation, when the events of the Revolution formed the topic of discourse.

1. Footnote: On account of the great importance of this debate, we give Marshall's synopsis of the arguments used on both sides. It brought up the question of State rights as opposed to centralization for the first time; and on many other accounts is particularly interesting for the political reader, as well as for all who are curious respecting our early colonial history.

2. Footnote: It has ever been understood that these members were, on principle, in favor of the assumption as modified in the amendment made by the Senate; but they withheld their assent from it when originally proposed in the House of Representatives in the opinion that the increase of the national debt added to the necessity of giving to the departments of the national government a more central residence. It is understood that a greater number would have changed had it been necessary.

3. Footnote: Marshall.

4. Footnote: October 23, 1786, was the date of Messrs. Drayton and Izard's visit.

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