RESISTANCE TO TYRANNY.

With what deep and earnest interest Washington watched the course of

these momentous events may be readily imagined, if we reflect how much

of his life had been already spent in the service of the public, and

how near he had ever kept the good and welfare of his native land at

heart.

He was not a mere looker-on, but one of those who had in the very

beginning shown themselves ready to enter, heart and hand and fortune,

into all just and lawful measures of resistance to oppression in every

shape and form; but, with his usual modesty, forbearing to push

himself forward, which served, no doubt, to add to his example still

greater weight and influence, and make it all the more illustrious. He

rigidly observed the non-importation agreement, and was, in fact, one

of the first to propose its adoption; and none of the articles therein

named were to be seen in his house until the odious burdens laid

thereon had been removed.

Little or no lasting good, however, could be expected from these, or

indeed any measures, unless the Colonies should come to a clearer and

fuller understanding, one with another, touching the troubles that

concerned all equally and alike. To bring this much-to-be-wished-for

end about, it was resolved that a general assembly of all the Colonies

should be called, wherein each province, through its representatives

chosen by the people thereof, should have a voice. As the first step

towards this object, conventions were summoned in the various

provinces, the members whereof had the authority to choose from among

their number those who were to be their representatives or

mouth-pieces in this great Colonial Assembly, since known in history

as the Old Continental Congress.

Patrick Henry (the great American orator), Mr. Pendleton, and

Washington were those appointed to represent Virginia. Accordingly,

about the middle of September, 1774, these three Congress-men set out

together on horseback for Philadelphia, the place of meeting. Arrived

here, Washington found assembled the first talent, wisdom, and virtue

of the land. It was to him a sublime spectacle indeed,--that of the

people of many widely separated provinces thus met together to give

voice and expression to what they felt to be their sacred rights as

freemen and free Englishmen. To add still greater solemnity to their

proceedings, and give their cause the stamp of the just and righteous

cause they felt it to be, it was resolved to open the business of each

day with prayer. Next morning, there came a report that Boston had

been cannonaded by the king's troops, who had been stationed there for

many weeks past. Although this afterwards turned out to be false, yet,

at the time, it had a most beneficial effect, in drawing still nearer

together those who but the day before had met as strangers, by

impressing their minds with a still deeper sense of the sacredness of

the trust imposed on them by their country, and by bringing more

directly home to them their common danger, and dependence one upon

another. The minister, before offering up his prayer, took up the

Bible to read a passage therefrom, and, as if providentially, opened

at the thirty-fifth Psalm, which seemed to have been written expressly

for this great occasion, and began thus: "Plead my cause, O Lord, with

them that strive with me; fight against them that fight against me."

What wonder, then, that, under circumstances like these, they should

feel their hearts joined together in stronger, holier bonds of union,

as they knelt side by side on that memorable morning, commending their

just cause to the Ruler of nations? For several minutes after they had

resumed their seats, a profound and solemn silence reigned throughout

the house; each looking the other in the face, as if uncertain how to

set about the great work that had brought them together, and no one

willing to open the Assembly. The silence was becoming painful and

embarrassing; when Patrick Henry at length arose, and began addressing

the House, at first in a faltering voice and hesitating manner, which

soon, however, as he warmed with his subject, gave place to a bolder,

higher strain, till, long before he had ended, the hearts of his

hearers were thrilled with a flow of eloquence, the like of which none

present had ever heard before; and, when it ceased, each felt that he

had just been listening to the greatest orator, not of Virginia only,

but of all America. The burden of his declamation was the oppressive

and unlawful system of taxation devised by Great Britain against her

American Colonies; the severe restriction laid on their commerce; the

abolition of the right of trial by jury, and of choosing their own

judges; the danger that must ever threaten their liberties, if they

suffered troops of war to be quartered upon them in times of peace;

and, above all, that they should be denied the right of taxing

themselves, of making their own laws, and of regulating their internal

concerns, as seemed to their judgment wise and proper, through

representatives of their own choosing. To get redress for these and

similar grievances, was the chief, and, I may say, the only object for

which this first Congress had been called; for at that time, and for a

long time after, no one harbored such a thought as that of breaking

with the mother-country, with a view of achieving their independence.

To this end, they now applied themselves with deep and sober

earnestness, and brought to their work all the resources that their

wisdom and experience could command.

The first session of the Old Continental Congress lasted fifty-one

days. Such was the decorum with which they conducted their

proceedings, such the eloquence, force, and precision with which they

set forth their grievances, such the temperate and dignified tone that

marked their petitions to the king, and such the manliness, firmness,

and unwavering constancy with which they persisted in battling for

their right as freemen to be represented in the councils of the

nation, that thousands of their brothers across the Atlantic were

filled with wonder and admiration. And here, for once and for all, be

it known to you, my dear children, and, in justice to the British

nation as a people, never fail hereafter to bear it in mind, that

there were many, very many, perhaps a large majority, of our English

uncles, who deeply sympathized with our fathers in their troubles, and

heartily condemned the oppressive burdens heaped upon them by the king

and his ministers. Even in the House of Parliament itself were there

many of the greatest spirits of that age, who had all along opposed

these harsh and unjust measures of the government towards the

Colonies, and were now so impressed with all that marked the

proceedings of this first Colonial Congress, that they exerted

themselves in behalf of their oppressed brothers in America with more

zeal than ever before, and pleaded their cause in strains of eloquence

that shall ring in our ears, and dwell in our hearts, till history

shall tell us we have ceased to be a nation.

And well indeed they might admire and praise; for what with the

eloquence of such men as Henry and Rutledge, the learning of such men

as Hancock and Adams, the wisdom of such men as Washington, and the

pure and exalted character of them all, it was a body of men, the like

of which had never before assembled together in any age or country.

Patrick Henry, upon being asked who was the greatest man in the

Congress, replied, "If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge, of South

Carolina, is by far the greatest orator; but, if you speak of solid

information and sound judgment, Col. Washington is, beyond all

question, the greatest man on that floor." Had Mr. Rutledge been asked

the same question, he would as readily have pronounced Patrick Henry

the greatest orator, as indeed he was.

Bent on one common object, encompassed by dangers that threatened all

alike, and glowing with the same ardent and heroic spirit, they seemed

for the time to have quite forgotten that they were the natives and

representatives of many different and widely separated provinces, and

to think that they were, as Patrick Henry happily expressed it, not

Carolinians, not Pennsylvanians, not Virginians, so much as that they

were Americans; and had been sent there, not so much to represent the

will and wishes of the people of their respective provinces, as of

those of the whole American people. Thus Union became the watchword

throughout the Colonies. And by union alone were they able to make a

stand against tyranny; by it alone came off victorious in the end; by

it alone won for themselves a place among the nations; and by it alone

can their posterity hope to hold that place as a powerful, free, and

happy people.

Having done all that could be done for the present, the Congress was

adjourned, and the members returned to their homes to await the result

of the petitions and remonstrances they had sent on to the king and

parliament. Although these were couched in moderate and respectful

terms, expressing their unaltered attachment to the king and his

family, deploring that there should be aught but peace and good-will

between them, and entreating him not to drive his children to the

dreadful alternative of taking up arms in their defence, yet, like

those that had gone before them, they were received with contempt or

indifference, and failed to awaken in the king's mind any sentiment of

mercy, or desire on the part of the parliament for reconciliation with

their younger brothers in America. Here was the last, the golden

opportunity, wherein, by an act of simple justice, by an expression of

Christian kindness, they might have won back to obedience and love

this much-injured people; but under the mistaken and fatal belief

that they were all-powerful, and that, if they yielded up these

pretended rights, the colonists would never rest until they had thrown

off and trampled under foot all authority, they suffered it to pass

unheeded, lost for ever.

A short time after the adjournment of Congress, at a second Virginia

Convention, held at Richmond, Patrick Henry, in closing one of the

grandest efforts he ever made, thus boldly declared his mind: "The

time of reconciliation is past; the time for action is at hand. It is

useless to send further petitions to the government, or to await the

result of those already addressed to the throne. We must fight, Mr.

Speaker: I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the

God of hosts is all that is left us!" The great orator did but give

voice to the feelings and sentiments of thousands of pure patriots,

among whom was Washington, who represented his district in this

convention also. No one regretted more sincerely than he that they

were thus compelled to take up the sword as the only remedy of their

wrongs and grievances. In his own mind, he had fully resolved, if

needful, to devote his life and fortune to the cause; and was willing,

he told his brother, to arm and equip a thousand men at his own

expense, and lead them to the succor of Boston, at that time blockaded

by the British fleet. Grave and thoughtful, and pondering deeply all

these things, he went to his home; and, in this frame of mind, the

winter months passed slowly by.

It was now apparent to all, that open hostilities between the Colonies

and the mother-country were no longer avoidable; and on the nineteenth

of April, 1775, the battle of Lexington announced to the world that

the first blood of a desperate struggle had been shed, and that civil

war, with all its train of horrors, had begun.

When the tidings reached Mount Vernon, the impressions made on

Washington's mind were solemn and profound, if we may judge from a

letter written at the time, in which he says, "Unhappy it is to

reflect, that a brother's sword has been sheathed in a brother's

breast, and that the once-peaceful plains of America are to be

drenched with blood, or inhabited by slaves. Sad alternative! But can

a virtuous man hesitate in his choice?" Early in May, as he was just

on the eve of setting out for Philadelphia to take his seat in the

second session of the Congress, news reached him of the capture of

Ticonderoga by Col. Ethan Allen. It was a brilliant little exploit

enough, and the very kind to raise undue expectations in the many, who

looked no further into the future than to-night, when it is yet

evening; but it could have no other effect than to deepen the

thoughtfulness of a mind like Washington's, that could look through

the glare of these accidental hits of war, and behold the untried

perils still further beyond.

As the war had now begun in earnest, so dreaded and deeply deplored by

all the good men, as the only remedy left to their distress, the

deliberations of the second Congress turned chiefly on the devising of

means for their defence and safety. Towards this object, nothing

effectual could be done till some person was fixed upon to be the

leader of the army, which they had yet, in large measure, to raise,

arm, and equip.

There were not a few, who, for age, talent, experience, fortune, and

social position, as well as for the sacrifices they had already made

to the cause, were, in the opinion of their friends, and perhaps in

that of their own, justly entitled to this high distinction. After

some time spent in viewing the matter in all its bearings, and

carefully weighing the claims of each, without being able to fix upon

a choice, John Adams decided the question by addressing the House to

the following effect: That the person intrusted with a place of such

importance to Americans must be a native-born American; a man of large

fortune, in order to give him a strong personal interest in the issue

of the contest, and the means of carrying it on; he should be a man of

military experience, and accustomed to the government of large bodies

of men; he should be of tried integrity and patriotism, of great

courage and bodily endurance, and known ability; and a resident of

some central province, that in him might be blended the extreme

interests of North and South, which would tend to lessen the

jealousies of the two sections, and harmonize them, as it were, into

one. Such a province was Virginia, and such a man was Col. Washington;

whom, therefore, he commended to the favor and consideration of the

Honorable House.

Before this address was ended, Washington, perceiving that he was the

person on the point of being singled out, rose from his seat, much

agitated and embarrassed, and hastily quitted the House.

Next morning, Mr. Adams's recommendation was acted upon; and the

House, without a single dissenting voice, chose GEORGE WASHINGTON to

be _Commander-in-chief_ of all the army of the United Colonies, with

the salary of six thousand dollars a year. In his reply, Washington

expressed his grateful sense of so signal a proof of the confidence

reposed in him by his countrymen, and added,--

"But lest some unfortunate event should happen, unfavorable to

my reputation, I beg that it may be remembered by every

gentleman in this room, that I this day declare, with the

utmost sincerity, that I do not think myself equal to the

command I am honored with. As to pay, I beg leave to assure the

Congress, that, as no pecuniary consideration could have

tempted me to accept of this employment at the expense of my

domestic ease and happiness, I do not wish to make any profit

of it. I will keep an exact account of my expenses: these, I

doubt not, they will discharge; and that is all I desire."

In a letter to Mrs. Washington, informing her of the great change thus

made in his destiny, he deplores the hard necessity that makes it his

duty to give up the sweet pleasures of home and her society; and

exhorts her, in affectionate language, to bear up under their

separation with cheerfulness and fortitude; at the same time giving

her the gratifying assurance, that with her he could have more

happiness at Mount Vernon in one month, than he could hope to find

without her, were he to remain abroad seven times seven years. From

the tone of this letter, she must readily have guessed that the place

was not one of his own seeking.

Accordingly, on the 21st of June, General Washington,--for so we must

now call him,--having received his commission, set out to take command

of the American army, then lying before Boston, which, being occupied

by the king's troops, was in a state of siege. A company of

Pennsylvania light-horse escorted him from Philadelphia to New York,

where he was received with all the honor due, not only to the high

station he had been called to fill, but also to his exalted character

and distinguished abilities. Here he heard further particulars of the

battle of Bunker's Hill, fought near Boston a few days before. From

New York, the general-in-chief proceeded to Boston, and was greeted

everywhere on the way with the greatest enthusiasm by the people, who

came streaming in from all quarters to behold the man into whose

keeping had been intrusted the destinies of America.

Thus, my dear children, I have brought you, step by step, up to that

great event in Washington's life when his character and actions were

to be subjected to the gaze and scrutiny, not only of his own age and

country, but of all ages to come, and of all the nations of

Christendom.

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