ed,
and where a house had been provided for his use. He remained there two
months, aiding Congress in their work. During the spring he had been
engaged on the matter of a peace establishment, and he now gave
Congress elaborate and well-matured advice on that question, and on
those of public lands, western settlement, and the best Indian policy.
In all these directions his views were clear, far-sighted, and wise.
He saw that in these questions was involved much of the future
development and wellbeing of the country, and he treated them with a
precision and an easy mastery which showed the thought he had given to
the new problems which now were coming to the front. Unluckily, he was
so far ahead, both in knowledge and perception, of the body with which
he dealt, that he could get little or nothing done, and in September
he wrote in plain but guarded terms of the incapacity of the
lawmakers. The people were not yet ripe for his measures, and he was
forced to bide his time, and see the injuries caused by indifference
and short-sightedness work themselves out. Gradually, however, the
absolutely necessary business was brought to an end. Then Washington
issued a circular letter to the governors of the States, which was
one of the ablest he ever wrote, and full of the profoundest
statesmanship, and he also sent out a touching address of farewell to
the army, eloquent with wisdom and with patriotism.

From Princeton he went to West Point, where the army that still
remained in service was stationed. Thence he moved to Harlem, and
on November 25 the British army departed, and Washington, with his
troops, accompanied by Governor Clinton and some regiments of local
militia, marched in and took possession. This was the outward sign
that the war was over, and that American independence had been won.
Carleton feared that the entry of the American army might be the
signal for confusion and violence, in which the Tory inhabitants would
suffer; but everything passed off with perfect tranquillity and good
order, and in the evening Governor Clinton gave a public dinner to the
commander-in-chief and the officers of the army.

All was now over, and Washington prepared to go to Annapolis and lay
down his commission. On December 4 his officers assembled in Fraunces'
Tavern to bid him farewell. As he looked about on his faithful
friends, his usual self-command deserted him, and he could not control
his voice. Taking a glass of wine, he lifted