commanded the harbor; and the English would be compelled to withdraw, or he would blow their fleet into the air.

In the early dawn of the morning, while the gale swept sheets of mist, and floods of rain, over earth and sea, the British admiral saw, to his consternation, that a fort bristling with cannon had sprung up, during the night, almost over his head. He immediately opened upon the works the broadsides of all his ships; but the Americans, defiant of the storm of iron which fell around them, continued to pile their sand-bags, and to ply their shovels, until ramparts so strong rose around them, that no cannonade could injure them. The British fleet was now at the mercy of Washington's batteries. In a spirit almost of desperation, the admiral ordered three thousand men in boats to land, and take the heights at every hazard. God came to the aid of the colonists. The gale increased to such fury, that not a boat could be launched. Before another day and night had passed, the redoubt could defy any attack.

The situation of the two parties was now very singular. The British fleet was at the mercy of the Americans: Boston was at the mercy of the English. "If you fire upon the fleet," said Gen. Howe, "I will burn the city." "If you harm the city," said Washington, "I will sink your fleet." By a tacit understanding, the English were permitted to retire unharmed, if they left the city uninjured.

It was the morning of the 17th of March, 1776. The storm had passed away. The blue sky overarched the beleaguered city and the encamping armies. Washington sat upon his horse, serene and majestic, and contemplated in silent triumph, from the Heights of Dorchester, the evacuation of Boston. Every gun of his batteries was shotted, and aimed at the hostile fleet. Every torch was lighted. The whole British army was crowded on board the ships. A fresh breeze from the west filled their sails; and the hostile armament, before the sun went down, had disappeared beyond the distant horizon of the sea. As the last boats, loaded to the gunwales with British soldiers, left the shore for the fleet, the exultant colonial army, with music and banners, marched over the Neck into the rejoicing city. It was a glorious victory, won by genius without the effusion of blood. Such another case, perhaps, history does not record. Washington, without ammuni tion, had maintained his post for six months within musket-shot

of a powerful British army. During this time he had disbanded the small force of raw militia he at first had with him, and had recruited another army; and had then driven the enemy into his ships, and out into the sea.

The British, thus expelled from Boston, gathered their strength of fleets and armies for an attack upon New York. The Congress, assembled in Philadelphia, which at first sought only the redress of grievances, now resolved to strike for independence. A committee was appointed, of which Thomas Jefferson was chairman, to draft a Declaration. The committee presented this immortal document to Congress, and it was unanimously adopted. History has recorded no spectacle more sublime than that which was witnessed as the members of the Continental Congress came forward, each one in his turn, to sign that paper, which would be his inevitable death-warrant should the arms of America fail. Not one faltered. Every individual pledged to this sacred cause "his life, his fortune, and his sacred honor." It was the 4th of July, 1776.

This Declaration was read from the steps of the State House in Philadelphia to an immense concourse, and it was received with bursts of enthusiasm. It was sent to Gen. Washington to be communicated to the army, which he had now assembled in the vicinity of New York. The regiments were paraded to hear it read. It was greeted with tumultuous applause. The troops thus defiantly threw back the epithet of "rebellious colonists," and assumed the proud title of "The Army of the United States." Gen. Washington, in an order of the day, thus alludes to this momentous occurrence:

"The general hopes that this important event will serve as a fresh incentive to every officer and soldier to act with fidelity and courage, as knowing that now the peace and safety of his country depend, under God, solely on the success of our arms, and that he is now in the service of a State possessed of sufficient power to reward his merit, and advance him to the highest honors of a free country."

The latter part of June, just before the Declaration of Independence, two large British fleets, one from Halifax and the other direct from England, met at the mouth of the Bay of New York, and, disembarking quite a powerful army, took possession of Staten Island. Washington had assembled all his available

military force to resist their advances. The British Government regarded the leaders of the armies, and their supporters in Congress, as felons, doomed to the scaffold. They refused, consequently, to recognize any titles conferred by Congressional authority.

Gen. Howe sent a flag of truce, with a letter, directed to George Washington, Esq. The letter was returned unopened. As occasional intercourse between the generals of the two armies was of very great moment, to regulate questions respecting the treatment of prisoners and other matters, Gen. Howe, notwithstanding this merited repulse, wrote again, but insultingly, to the same address. Again the letter was returned unopened, and with the emphatic announcement, that the commander-inchief of the American army could receive no communication from Gen. Howe which did not recognize his military position. The British officer then sent a letter, insolently addressed to George Washington, Esq., &c., &c., &c. This letter was also refused. A communication was then sent to Gen. George Washington.

Thus were the members of the British cabinet in London disciplined into civility. Gen. Howe frankly confessed that he had adopted this discourteous style of address simply to save himself from censure by the home government. Washington, writing to Congress upon this subject, says,

"I would not, on any occasion, sacrifice essentials to punctilio; but, in this instance, I deemed it my duty to my country, and to my appointment, to insist upon that respect, which, in any other than a public view, I would willingly have waived."

Gen. Washington, a gentleman and a Christian, was exceed ingly pained by that vulgar and wicked habit of profane swearing which was so prevalent among the troops. We have already alluded to his abhorrence of this vice. In August, 1776, he issued the following notice to his army at New York:

"The general is sorry to be informed that the foolish and profane practice of cursing and swearing, a vice hitherto little known in an American army, is growing into fashion. He hopes that the officers will, by example as well as by influence, endeavor to check it, and that both they and the men will reflect that we can have little hope of the blessing of Heaven on our aims if we insult it by our impiety and folly. Add to this, it is a vice so mean and low, without any temptation, that every man of sense and character detests and despises it."