CHAPTER XXXVI.

FRIENDLY OVERTURES TO FRANCE--PICKERING'S HISTORICAL AND EXPLANATORY

LETTER TO PINCKNEY--WASHINGTON'S SUGGESTIONS--FRENCH OUTRAGES UPON

AMERICAN COMMERCE--RESULTS OF THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION--JOHN ADAMS

THE NATION'S CHOICE--HIS FOREBODINGS RESPECTING HIS

HOUSEHOLD--WASHINGTON'S SALE OF SUPERFLUITIES--MRS. WASHINGTON'S

LAST DRAWING-ROOM--BIRTHDAY FESTIVITIES--WASHINGTON'S

EMOTIONS--LETTERS TO HIS FRIENDS ON HIS RETIREMENT--FAREWELL

DINNER--HIS DECLARATIONS RESPECTING THE SPURIOUS

LETTERS--INAUGURATION OF ADAMS--WASHINGTON'S PARTING WORDS--ADAMS'S

INAUGURAL ADDRESS--A TINGE OF JEALOUSY--ELEGANT ENTERTAINMENT GIVEN

TO WASHINGTON--VIOLENT ATTACKS UPON HIM BY THE "AURORA"--THE EDITOR

BEATEN AND HUMBLED.

Sincerely desirous of maintaining a good understanding with the French,

the president, early in January, requested Mr. Pickering, the secretary

of state, to address a letter to Mr. Pinckney, the United States

minister in France, stating in full the causes of difficulty between the

two governments, examining and reviewing the same, and submitting, with

his letter, a mass of relative documents, by which the whole matter

might be fully understood. Pickering's letter and the documents were

laid before Congress on the nineteenth of January, accompanied by a

message from the President, in which he said that the immediate object

of Mr. Pinckney's mission to France was, "to make to that government

such explanations of the principles and conduct of our own, as by

manifesting our good faith, might remove all jealousy and discontent,

and maintain that harmony and good understanding with the French

republic which it had been his constant solicitude to preserve. A

government which required only a knowledge of the _truth_ to justify its

measures, could but be anxious to have this fully and frankly

displayed."

Previous to the completion of the letter to Pinckney, Washington wrote

to Pickering, suggesting that some such summing up as the following

might be proper:--

"That the conduct of the United States toward France has been, as

will appear from a foregoing statement, regulated by the strictest

principles of neutrality.

"That there has been no attempt in the government to violate our

treaty with that country, to weaken our engagements therewith, or

to withhold any friendship we could render, consistent with the

neutrality we had adopted.

"That peace has been our primary object; but, so far has it been

from inducing us to acquiesce silently in the capturing of our

vessels, impressing our seamen, or in the misconduct of the naval

or other officers of the British government, that no instance can

be produced of authenticated facts having passed unnoticed, and,

where occasion required it, without strong remonstrances.

"That this government, seeing no propriety in the measure, nor

conceiving itself to be under any obligation to communicate to the

ministers of the French republic all the unpleasant details of what

had passed between it and the British minister here, or with the

minister of foreign affairs at the court of London on these

accounts, conscious of its fair dealing toward all the belligerent

powers, and wrapped up in its own integrity, little expected, under

the circumstances which have been enumerated, the upbraidings it

has met with; notwithstanding, it now is, as it always has been,

the earnest wish of the government to be on the best and most

friendly footing with the republic of France; and we have no doubt,

after giving this candid exposition of facts, that the Directory

will revoke the orders under which our trade is suffering, and will

pay the damages it has sustained thereby."

This allusion to depredations upon American commerce by French cruisers,

hinted at a state of things which the United States government could not

long endure in silence. According to a report made by the secretary of

state toward the close of the session, in which he made a full exhibit

of the wrongs inflicted by the French on American commerce, it appears

that enormous depredations had been committed in the West Indies. All

vessels having contraband articles on board, no matter whither bound,

were decreed to be good prizes; and the cargoes of neutral vessels bound

to or from British ports, or even to Dutch or French settlements in the

possession of the British, or cleared out for the West Indies generally,

were seized and confiscated. The crews of American vessels captured were

generally treated with indignity, and frequently with cruelty. "Bitter

complaints," says Hildreth, "were made of Commodore Barney, then in the

West Indies with his two frigates. He was accused of treating with

contemptuous indifference and neglect his fellow-citizens brought in as

prisoners by the French privateers, and even of having shown his

contempt for his country by hoisting the American ensign union down.

Yet, when he arrived in the Chesapeake for the purpose of learning and

carrying to France the result of the presidential election, though he

boasted of having in his pocket the orders of the French Directory to

capture all American vessels, and declared that if Jefferson was not

chosen president war would be declared by France within three months, he

was not the less, on that account, honored and feasted by infatuated

politicians who read the _Aurora_, and believed Washington to be a

traitor!"[111]

The votes of the electoral college for president of the United States

were opened and counted in the senate on the eighth of February. The

result showed a very close balance of political parties. The whole

number of votes was one hundred and thirty-eight, making seventy

necessary to a choice. Of these, John Adams, the incumbent

vice-president, received seventy-one, and Thomas Jefferson sixty-nine

votes. Thomas Pinckney, late minister to Great Britain, received

fifty-nine votes, Aaron Burr thirty, Samuel Adams fifteen, Oliver

Ellsworth eleven, George Clinton seven, John Jay five, James Iredell

three, George Washington two, John King two, Samuel Johnson two, and

Charles C. Pinckney, then in France, one. At that time the person who

received the highest number of the electoral votes was declared to be

president, and the person who had the next highest number was declared

to be vice-president.

After reading the result, Mr. Adams sat down for a moment, and then

rising, said:--

"John Adams is elected president of the United States for four

years, to commence with the fourth day of March next; and Thomas

Jefferson is elected vice-president of the United States for four

years, to commence with the fourth day of March next. And may the

Sovereign of the Universe, the Ordainer of civil government on

earth, for the preservation of liberty, justice, and peace, among

men, enable both to discharge the duties of these offices

conformably to the constitution of the United States, with

conscientious diligence, punctuality, and perseverance."[112]

"The die is cast," wrote the new president elect to his wife, on the

following day, "and you must prepare yourself for honorable trials. I

must wait to know whether Congress will do anything or not to furnish my

house. If they do not, I will have no house before next fall, and then a

very moderate one, with very moderate furniture." He had written to Mrs.

Adams a few days before, saying: "I hope you will not communicate to

anybody the hints I give you about our prospects; but they appear every

day worse and worse. House-rent at twenty-seven hundred dollars a year,

fifteen hundred dollars for a carriage, one thousand for one pair of

horses, all the glasses, ornaments, kitchen furniture, the best chairs,

settees, plateaus, &c., all to purchase; all the china, delph [Delft] or

Wedgewood, glass and crockery, of every sort to purchase."

Washington now prepared, with feelings of the most exquisite pleasure,

to retire from public life. Everything which would be unnecessary at

Mount Vernon he offered for sale. "The president," wrote Mr. Adams to

his wife, "has a pair of horses to sell; one nine, the other ten years

old, for which he asks a thousand dollars.... He must sell something to

enable him to clear out. When a man is about retiring from public life,

and sees nothing but a ploughshare between him and the grave, he

naturally thinks most upon that.

"When Charles the Fifth resigned his empire and crown, he went to

building his coffin. When I contemplated a retirement, I meditated the

purchase of Mr. Vesey's farm; and thought of building a tomb in my own

ground, adjoining to the burying-yard. The president is now engaged in

his speculations upon a vault which he intends to build for himself, not

to sleep but to lie down in.... Our friend says she is afraid President

Washington will not live long. I should be afraid, too, if I had not

confidence in his farm and his horse. He must be a fool, I think, who

dies of chagrin when he has a fine farm and a Narragansett mare that

paces and canters. But I don't know but all men are such fools. I think

a man had better wear than rust."

In February, when he could begin to count the days and hours that lay

between him and that retirement he so much coveted, Washington wrote to

his old and dear friends upon the subject with much feeling; and every

day brought him new proofs of the love and veneration in which he was

held by the people. His birthday was celebrated in Philadelphia in a

manner unequalled before. A grand ball was given at the Amphitheatre, in

the evening, at which Washington and his lady were present. Mrs.

Washington held a "drawing-room" in the afternoon, at which there was a

crowd of people. "It was rendered affecting beyond all expression," said

an eye-witness, "by its being, in some degree, a parting scene. Mrs.

Washington was moved even to tears, with the mingled emotions of

gratitude for such strong proofs of public regard, and the new prospect

of the uninterrupted enjoyment of domestic life: she expressed herself

something to this effect. I never saw the president look better, or in

finer spirits, but his emotions were too powerful to be concealed. He

could sometimes scarcely speak. Three rooms of his house were almost

entirely full from twelve to three, and such a crowd at the door it was

difficult to get in.

"At the Amphitheatre, at night, it is supposed there were at least

twelve hundred persons. The show was a very brilliant one; but such

scrambling to go to supper that there was some danger of being squeezed

to death. The vice-president handed in Mrs. Washington, and the

president immediately followed. The applause with which they were

received is indescribable. The same was shown on their return from

supper. The music added greatly to the interest of the scene. The

president staid until between twelve and one; the vice-president till

near two. Both were serenaded with repeated huzzas long after they had

been in bed. The latter slept so soundly that he knew nothing of it till

next morning, though it is said 'Yankee Doodle' was one of the tunes

played."[113]

The eight years of Washington's administration of public affairs, as

chief-magistrate of the republic, were now drawing to a close. They had

been years of toil, anxiety, and vexation. They had been stormy years;

yet, like a rock in the ocean, or the mountain rising from the plain, he

had stood unshaken by the surges or the winds. With that serenity of

mind which arises from the consolations of a conscience void of offence

toward God and man, he took a retrospective view; and with the eagerness

of a prisoner about to be released from his cell, to breathe the free

air of heaven and repose in peace in the bosom of his home, he

approached the hour when he should bid adieu to the incessant labor and

turmoil of political life. To his long-tried and dearly-loved friend,

General Knox, he wrote as follows two days before his retirement:--

"To the wearied traveller who sees a resting-place, and is bending

his body to lean thereon, I now compare myself; but to be suffered

to do this in peace is too much to be endured by some. To

misrepresent my motives, to reprobate my politics, and to weaken

the confidence which has been reposed in my administration, are

objects which can not be relinquished by those who will be

satisfied with nothing short of a change in our political system.

The consolation, however, which results from conscious rectitude,

and the approving voice of my country, unequivocally expressed by

its representatives, deprive their sting of its poison, and place

in the same point of view the weakness and malignity of their

efforts....

"The remainder of my life, which in the course of nature can not be

long, will be occupied in rural amusements; and, though I shall

seclude myself as much as possible from the noisy and bustling

crowd, none would, more than myself, be regaled by the company of

those I esteem at Mount Vernon; more than twenty miles from which,

after I arrive there, it is not likely that I ever shall be.

"As early in next week as I can make arrangements for it, I shall

commence my journey for Mount Vernon. To-morrow, at dinner, I

shall, as a servant of the public, take my leave of the president

elect, of the foreign embassadors, the heads of departments, &c.,

and the day following, with pleasure, I shall witness the

inauguration of my successor to the chair of government."

There was a large company of ladies and gentlemen at the dinner, on the

third of March, when Washington, in a somewhat informal manner, bade

them all farewell. "During the dinner," wrote Bishop White, who was one

of the guests, "much hilarity prevailed; but, on the removal of the

cloth, it was put an end to by the president--certainly without design.

Having filled his glass, he addressed the company, with a smile on his

countenance, saying, 'Ladies and gentlemen, this is the last time I

shall drink your health as a public man. I do it with sincerity, and

wishing you all possible happiness.' There was an end to all hilarity,

and the cheeks of Mrs. Liston, wife of the British minister, were wet

with tears."

On that morning Washington performed an act of justice to himself, which

he had refrained from doing while in office. It was in the form of a

letter to Mr. Pickering, the secretary of state, giving his own

statement concerning the spurious letters which we have already

noticed--their dates, addresses, and signatures, and all the facts in

the case, the chief of which we have already noted. "These well-known

facts," he said, "made it unnecessary, during the war, to call the

public attention to the forgery by any express declaration of mine; and

a firm reliance on my fellow-citizens, and the abundant proofs which

they gave of their confidence in me, rendered it alike unnecessary to

take any formal notice of the revival of the imposition during my civil

administration. But as I can not know how soon a more serious event may

succeed to that which will this day take place, I have thought it a

duty that I owed to myself, to my country, and to truth, now to detail

the circumstances above recited; and to add my solemn declaration that

the letters herein described[114] are a base forgery, and that I never

saw or heard of them until they appeared in print.

"The present letter I commit to your care, and desire that it may

be deposited in the office of the department of state, as a

testimony of the truth to the present generation and to posterity."

On the fourth of March, John Adams, Washington's successor,

was inaugurated the second president of the United States. The

event took place in the hall of the representatives, which was

densely crowded with spectators. Mr. Jefferson, the new vice-president,

had just taken his seat as president of the senate. That

body had been convened by Washington for the occasion; and now,

with their presiding officer, they went into the representatives' hall,

where a large audience of ladies and gentlemen were collected to

witness the inaugural ceremonies. In front of the speaker's chair

sat chief-justice Ellsworth, who was to administer the oath, with

three other judges of the supreme court of the United States

(Cushing, Wilson, and Iredell). The new vice-president and secretary

of the senate took their seats on the right; and on the left sat

the speaker and clerk of the late house of representatives. At a

signal the doors were thrown open, and a crowd rushed in and

filled the galleries. Very soon loud cheering was heard in the

streets, and a few moments afterward Washington entered, followed

by the president elect. The whole audience arose and greeted

them with enthusiastic cheers.

[Illustration: JOHN ADAMS]

When the two dignitaries were seated perfect silence prevailed.

Washington then arose, and with the most commanding dignity and

self-control, proceeded to read, in a firm, clear voice, a brief

valedictory. An eye-witness yet (1860) living,[115] has made the

following interesting record of this portion of the scene:--

"When General Washington delivered his farewell address, in the

room at the southeast corner of Chestnut and Sixth streets, I sat

immediately in front of him. It was in the room Congress occupied.

The table of the speaker was between the two windows on Sixth

street. The daughter of Doctor C----,[116] of Alexandria, the

physician and intimate friend of Washington, Mrs. H----,[117] whose

husband was the auditor, was a very dear friend of mine. Her

brother Washington was one of the secretaries of General

Washington. Young Dandridge, a nephew of Mrs. Washington, was the

other. I was included in Mrs. H----'s party to witness the august,

the solemn scene. Mr. H---- declined going with Mrs. H----, as she

had determined to go early, so as to secure the front bench. It was

fortunate for Miss C----[118] (afterward Mrs. L----)[119], that

she could not trust herself to be so near her honored grandfather.

My dear father stood very near her. She was terribly agitated.

There was a narrow passage from the door of entrance to the room,

which was on the east, dividing the rows of benches. General

Washington stopped at the end to let Mr. Adams pass to the chair.

The latter always wore a full suit of bright drab, with lash or

loose cuffs to his coat. He always wore wrist ruffles. He had not

changed his fashions. He was a short man, with a good head. With

his family he attended our church twice a day. General Washington's

dress was a full suit of black. His military hat had the black

cockade. There stood the 'Father of his Country,' acknowledged by

nations--the first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts

of his countrymen. No marshals with gold-colored scarfs attended

him--there was no cheering--no noise; the most profound silence

greeted him, as if the great assembly desired to hear him breathe,

and catch his breath in homage of their hearts. Mr. Adams covered

his face with both his hands; the sleeves of his coat, and his

hands, were covered with tears. Every now and then there was a

suppressed sob, I can not describe Washington's appearance as I

felt it--perfectly composed and self-possessed till the close of

his address: then, when strong nervous sobs broke loose, when tears

covered the faces, then the great man was shaken. I never took my

eyes from his face. Large drops came from his eyes. He looked to

the youthful children who were parting with their father, their

friend, as if his heart was with them, and would be to the end."

When Washington concluded his brief valedictory, Mr. Adams arose, took

the oath of office, and then delivered his inaugural address, which he

had prepared with much care--an address that had the rare good fortune

of pleasing all parties. He sketched, with a few brief touches of a

master's pencil, an outline history of the federal constitution, defined

his own position in regard to it from the beginning, and then thus

feelingly alluded to the retiring president:--

"Such is the amiable and interesting system of government (and such

are some of the abuses to which it may be exposed), which the

people of America have exhibited to the admiration and anxiety of

the wise and virtuous of all nations, for eight years, under the

administration of a citizen, who, by a long course of great

actions, regulated by prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude,

conducted a people inspired with the same virtues, and animated

with the same ardent patriotism and love of liberty, to

independence and peace, to increasing wealth and unexampled

prosperity, has merited the gratitude of his fellow-citizens,

commanded the highest praises of foreign nations, and secured

immortal glory with posterity.

"In that retirement which is his voluntary choice, may he long live

to enjoy the delicious recollection of his services, the gratitude

of mankind, the happy fruits of them to himself and the world,

which are daily increasing; and that splendid prospect of the

future fortunes of his country which is opening from year to year.

May his name be still a rampart, and the knowledge that he lives a

bulwark against all open or secret enemies of his country's peace!"

The hearts of the audience had already been made tender by the farewell

words of Washington; and this allusion to him, in the inaugural address

of his successor, made tears flow copiously--"Scarcely a dry eye but

Washington's, whose countenance was as serene and unclouded as the day,"

wrote Adams to his wife.

With a little tinge of evident jealousy, Adams again wrote to the same

correspondent, a few days afterward, saying: "It is the general report

that there was more weeping than there has ever been at the

representation of any tragedy. But whether it was from grief or joy,

whether from the loss of their beloved president, or from the accession

of an unbeloved one, or from the pleasure of exchanging presidents

without tumult, or from the novelty of the thing, or from the sublimity

of it arising from the multitude present, or whatever other cause, I

know not. One thing I know, I am a being of too much sensibility to act

any part well in such an exhibition. Perhaps there is little danger of

my having such another scene to feel or behold.

"The stillness and silence astonishes me. Everybody talks of the

tears, the full eyes, the streaming eyes, the trickling eyes, &c.,

but all is enigma beyond. No one descends to particulars to say why

or wherefore; I am, therefore, left to suppose that it is all grief

for the loss of their beloved."

When Washington left the hall and entered his carriage, the great

audience followed, and were joined by an immense crowd in the streets,

who shouted long and loud as the retiring president and his suite moved

toward his dwelling. The new president and all others were forgotten in

that moment of veneration for the beloved friend, upon whose face few in

that vast assemblage would ever look again. "I followed him in the crowd

to his own door," said the late President Duer, of Columbia college,

"where, as he turned to address the multitude, his countenance assumed a

serious and almost melancholy expression, his voice failed him, his

eyes were suffused with tears, and only by his gestures could he

indicate his thanks, and convey his farewell blessing to the people."

The merchants of Philadelphia, to testify their love for Washington,

gave to him a splendid banquet and other entertainments that evening, in

the Amphitheatre, which had been decorated with appropriate paintings by

Charles Willson Peale, who, twenty-five years before, had painted, at

Mount Vernon, the first portrait ever drawn of Washington, in the

costume of a Virginia colonel. One of the newspapers of the day thus

describes a compliment that was paid to the first president on that

occasion, which had been suggested and executed by Mr. Peale:--

"Upon entering the area the general was conducted to his seat. On a

signal given the band played 'Washington's March,' and a scene,

which represented simple objects in the rear of the principal seat,

was drawn up and discovered emblematical paintings. The principal

was a female figure as large as life, representing America, seated

on an elevation composed of sixteen marble steps. At her left side

stood the federal shield and eagle, and at her feet lay the

_cornucopia_; in her right hand she held the Indian calumet of

peace supporting the cap of liberty; in the perspective appeared

the temple of fame; and, on her left hand, an altar dedicated to

public gratitude, upon which incense was burning. In her left hand

she held a scroll inscribed 'Valedictory;' and at the foot of the

altar lay a plumed helmet and sword, from which a figure of General

Washington, large as life, appeared retiring down the steps,

pointing with his right hand to the emblems of power which he had

resigned, and with his left to a beautiful landscape representing

Mount Vernon, in front of which oxen were seen harnessed to the

plough. Over the general appeared a _Genius_, placing a wreath of

laurels on his head."

The heads of departments, foreign ministers, and distinguished strangers

in Philadelphia, were present on that gala occasion; and with that

display of taste, fashion, gayety, and refinement, ended the public life

of Washington.

These honors paid to the retiring chief-magistrate with the most

heartfelt sincerity, excited the jealousy, enmity, and malignity of his

political enemies in a most remarkable degree. Nothing was too base for

them to employ in attempts to injure his character, and lower him in the

esteem of his countrymen. A pamphlet written by "Jasper Dwight, of

Vermont," and published in December, 1796, which contained most severe

strictures upon the Farewell Address, was circulated with increased

zeal.[120]

The _Aurora_ overflowed with gall. Its columns were filled with the most

virulent attacks upon him. His denunciation of the spurious letters made

the calumniators writhe, and, with the fiendish malice of assassins,

they thrust his character with weapons of foulest form. Three days after

his retirement one of the most violent of these attacks appeared in the

_Aurora_, attributed to Doctor Lieb, a republican member of the

Pennsylvania assembly. It was dated on the day of Adams's inauguration.

He said:--

"'Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes

have seen thy salvation,' was the pious ejaculation of a man who

beheld a flood of happiness rushing upon mankind. If ever there was

a time that would license the reiteration of the exclamation, that

time is now arrived; for the man, who is the source of all the

misfortunes of our country, is this day reduced to a level with his

fellow-citizens, and is no longer possessed of power to multiply

evils upon the United States. If ever there was a period for

rejoicing, this is the moment; every heart in unison with the

freedom and happiness of the people, ought to beat high with

exultation that the name of WASHINGTON, from this day, ceases to

give a currency to political iniquity, and to legalize corruption.

A new era is now opening upon us, an era which promises much to the

people; for public measures must now stand upon their own merits,

and nefarious projects can no longer be supported by a name. When a

retrospect is taken of the Washingtonian administration for eight

years, it is a subject of the greatest astonishment that a single

individual should have cankered the principles of republicanism in

an enlightened people, just emerged from the gulf of despotism, and

should have carried his designs against the public liberty so far,

as to have put in jeopardy its very existence. Such, however, are

the facts, and, with these staring us in the face, this day ought

to be a jubilee in the United States."

These and similar articles excited the public indignation to the highest

endurable pitch; and Bache, the publisher of the _Aurora_, was severely

beaten, when, a few days afterward, he, with some friends, visited the

frigate _United States_, then on the stocks at the Philadelphia

navy-yard. A son of the contractor gave the flagellation. The public

clamor became so great, that Bache, in mortal fear of further personal

violence, thought it prudent to state, in his paper, that Doctor Lieb's

article was not written by the editor, but came from a correspondent.

FOOTNOTES:

[111] History of the United States, Second Series, i., 703.

[112] Journals of Congress, February 8, 1797.

[113] Letter of Honorable James Iredell to his wife, February 24, 1797.

[114] The following is Washington's description of the letters:--

"New York, June 12th, 1776. To Mr. Lund Washington, at Mount Vernon,

Fairfax county, Virginia.--G. W."

"To John Parke Custis, Esq., at the Hon. Benedict Calvert's, Esq., Mount

Airy, Maryland, June 18th, 1776.--GEORGE WASHINGTON."

"New York, July 8th, 1776. To Mr. Lund Washington, at Mt. Vernon,

Fairfax county, Virginia.--G. W."

"New York, July 15, 1776. To Mr. Lund Washington.--G. W."

"New York, July 16, 1776. To Mr. Lund Washington.--G. W."

"New York, July 22d, 1776. To Mr. Lund Washington--G. W."

"June 24th, 1776. To Mrs. Washington.--G. W."

[115] Mrs. Susan R. Echard, daughter of Colonel Read, now (1860) living

in Philadelphia, at the age of eighty-four years. The venerable

Rembrandt Peale, of the same city, who, two years before, painted

Washington's portrait from life, and now in his eighty-third year, was

also present in the gallery on that occasion, and his recollection

agrees with that of Mrs. Echard.

[116] Craik.

[117] Harrison.

[118] Custis.

[119] Lewis.

[120] It was in the form of a "Letter to George Washington, President of

the United States." Dwight was a violent republican, and an

uncompromising advocate for the immediate and total abolition of slavery

in the United States. Because Washington was a slaveholder, he

considered him extremely vulnerable on that point, and in his "Letter"

he twice alludes to the fact.

"Had the French Revolution," he said, "commenced ten years later, or you

retired to the shades of Mount Vernon four years ago, the friends of

public virtue would still proudly boast of one great man free from the

breath of public dispraise, and your fondly partial country, forbearing

to inquire whether or not you were chargeable with mental aberrations,

would vaunt in you this possession of the phoenix." After making

strictures on the events of the past four years, he said: "Would to God!

you had retired to a private station four years ago, while your public

conduct threw a veil of sanctity round you, which you have yourself

rashly broken down. Your fame would have been safe, your country without

reproach, and I should not have the mortifying task of pointing out the

blind temerity with which you come forward to defend the religion of

Christ, who exist in the violation of its most sacred obligations, of

the dearest ties of humanity, and in defiance of the sovereign calls of

morality and liberty--by dealing in HUMAN SLAVES." Again, after

asserting that "posterity will in vain search for the monuments of

wisdom" in his administration, he says they will, on inquiry, find that

had he obtained promotion, as he expected, for the services rendered

after Braddock's defeat, his sword would have been drawn against his

country; and that they would discover "that the great champion of

American freedom, the rival of Timoleon and Cincinnatus, twenty years

after the establishment of the republic, was possessed of FIVE HUNDRED

of the HUMAN SPECIES IN SLAVERY, enjoying the fruits of their labor

without remuneration, or even the consolations of religious

instruction--that he retained the barbarous usages of the feudal system,

and kept men in livery--and that he still affected to be the friend of

the Christian religion, of civil liberty, and moral equality--and to be,

withal, a disinterested, virtuous, liberal, and unassuming man."

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