lery and musketry of the enemy. His aide-de-camp, Colonel Fitzgerald, a young and ardent Irishman, losing sight of him in the heat of the fight when enveloped in dust and smoke, dropped the bridle on the neck of his horse and drew his hat over his eyes; giving him up for lost. When he saw him, however, emerge from the cloud, waving his hat, and beheld the enemy giving way, he spurred up to his side. "Thank God," cried he, "your excellency is safe!" "Away, my dear colonel, and bring up the troops," was the reply; "the day is our own!" It was one of those occasions in which the latent fire of Washington's character blazed forth. Mawhood, by this time, had forced his way, at the point of the bayonet, through gathering foes, though with heavy loss, back to the main road, and was in full retreat toward Trenton to join Cornwallis. Washington detached Major Kelly, with a party of Pennsylvania troops, to destroy the bridge at Stony Brook, over which Mawhood had retreated, so as to impede the advance of General Leslie from Maiden Head.

In the meantime the 55th regiment, which had been on the left and nearer Princeton, had been encountered by the American advance-guard under General St. Clair, and after some sharp fighting in a ravine had given way, and was retreating across fields and along a by-road to Brunswick. The remaining regiment, the 40th, had not been able to come up in time for the action; a part of it fled toward Brunswick; the residue took refuge in the college at Princeton, recently occupied by them as barracks. Artillery was now brought to bear on the college, and a few shot compelled those within to surrender.

In this brief but brilliant action, about one hundred of the British were left dead on the field, and nearly three hundred taken prisoners, fourteen of whom were officers. Among the slain was Captain Leslie, son of the Earl of Leven. Hisdeath was greatly lamented by his captured companions.

The loss of the Americans was about twenty-five or thirty men and several officers. Among the latter was Colonel Haslet, who had distinguished himself throughout the campaign, by being among the foremost in services of danger.

He was indeed a gallant officer, and gallantly seconded by his Delaware troops.

A greater loss was that of General Mercer. He was said to be either dead or dying, in the house of Mr. Clark, whither he had been conveyed by his aide-de-camp, Major Armstrong, who found him, after the retreat of Mawhood's troops, lying on the field gashed with several wounds, and insensible from cold and loss of blood. Washington felt compelled to leave his old companion in arms to his fate. Indeed, he was called away by the exigencies of his command, having to pursue the routed regiments which were making a headlong retreat to Brunswick. In this pursuit he took the lead at the head of a detachment of cavalry. At Kingston, however, three miles to the northeast of Princeton, he pulled up, restrained his ardor, and held a council of war on horseback. Should he keep on to Brunswick or not? The capture of the British stores and baggage would make his triumph complete; but, on the other hand, his troops were excessively fatigued by their rapid march all night and hard fight in the morning. All of them had been one night without sleep, and some of them two, and many were halfstarved. They were without blankets, thinly clad, some of them barefooted, and this in freezing weather. Cornwallis would be upon them before they could reach Brunswick. His rear-guard, under General Leslie, had been quartered about six miles from Princeton, and the retreating troops must have roused them. Under these considerations, it was determined to discontinue the pursuit and push for Morristown. There they would be in a mountainous country, heavily wooded, in an abundant neighborhood, and on the flank of the enemy, with various defiles by which they might change their position according to his movements.

Meantime Lord Cornwallis had retired to rest at Trenton with the sportman's vaunt that he would "bag the fox in the morning." Nothing could surpass his surprise and chagrin, when at day-break the expiring watch-fires and deserted camp of the Americans told him that the prize had once more evaded his grasp; that the general whose military skill he had decried had outgeneraled him.-W. IRVING.

FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION.

In January, 1786, the Assembly of Virginia appointed commissioners, who were instructed to meet such as should be appointed by the other States, "to take into consideration the trade of the United States, to examine the relative situation and trade of the said States, to consider how far a uniform system in their commercial relations may be necessary to their common interest and their permanent harmony, and to report to the several States such an act relative to this great object, as, when unanimously ratified by them, will enable the United States in Congress assembled effectually to provide for the same.' The commissioners met at Annapolis, in September, 1786. Five States only sent deputies, and some of these came with such limited powers, that it was soon ascertained that nothing could be done towards effecting the object for which they had come together. Their deliberations ended in a report to their respective States, in which they represented the defects of the federal system, and the necessity of a revision. They likewise recommended another convention of deputies from all the States, furnished with requisite powers, who should meet at Philadelphia on the second day of May. At the same time they sent a letter to Congress, accompanied with a copy of their report to the States.

When the legislature of Virginia assembled, the report of the deputies was taken into consideration, and it was resolved to appoint seven delegates to meet those from the other States in a general convention. Washington's name was put at the head of the list, and he was chosen by a unanimous vote of the representatives. The intelligence was first communicated to him by Mr. Madison, then a member of the Assembly, and afterwards officially by the governor.

He was not a little embarrassed with this choice, for, although he heartily approved the measure, yet he thought there were reasons of a personal nature, which made it inexpedient, if not improper, for him to take any part in it. He did not absolutely decline, but suggested his difficulties, and expressed a hope, that some other person would be appointed

in his place. As the weight of his name and the wisdom of his counsels were felt to be extremely important, in giving dignity and success to the proceedings of the convention, and as several months would intervene before the meeting, neither the governor nor his other friends pressed him to a hasty decision, trusting that time and reflection would remove his doubts.

His objections were frankly stated, and they are among the many evidences of his scrupulous regard to directness and consistency in every act of his life. "It is not only inconvenient for me to leave home," said he to the governor, "but there will be, I apprehend, too much cause to charge my conduct with inconsistency in again appearing on a public theatre, after a public declaration to the contrary; and it will, I fear, have a tendency to sweep me back into the tide of public affairs, when retirement and ease are so much desired by me, and so essentially necessary." There can be no doubt, that, when he resigned his commission in the army, he firmly believed nothing could again occur to draw him from the retirement, to which he returned with such unfeigned satisfaction, and which no other consideration than the superior claims of his country could induce him to forego. On the present occasion he was not convinced that his services would be more valuable than those of other citizens, whose ability and knowledge of public affairs, as his modesty would persuade him, better qualified them for the task of devising and maturing a system of civil government.

There was another objection, also, which seemed to bear with considerable weight on his mind. At the close of the war, some of the officers had formed themselves into an association, called the Society of the Cincinnati, the object of which was to establish a bond of union and fellowship between the officers, who had served together during the war, and were then about to be separated, and particularly to raise a permanent fund for the relief of unfortunate members, their widows, and orphans. Although Washington was not concerned in forming this society, yet he was well pleased with its benevolent design, and consented to be its president. Unexpectedly to him, however, and to all others connected with it, a very

general dissatisfaction arose throughout the country, in regard to some of the principles upon which the society was founded.

It was to be hereditary in the families of the members; it had a badge, or order, offensive in republican eyes, as imitating the European orders of knighthood; it admitted foreign officers, who had served in America, and their descendants; it provided for an indefinite accumulation of funds, which were to be disposed of at the discretion of the members. Discontents grew into clamorous censures. Pamphlets were written against the society, and it was denounced as antirepublican, and a dangerous political engine. At the first general meeting, which was held at Philadelphia in May, 1784, Washington exerted himself successfully to have the most objectionable features altered, and the articles of association were new-modelled conformably to his suggestions. After these changes the alarmists were less vehement in their attacks; but they were not silenced, and the society continued to be looked upon with jealousy and disapprobation.

A second general meeting was to take place in Philadelphia at the time appointed for the assembling of the convention. Before receiving notice that he was chosen a delegate, Washington had written a circular letter to the branches of the society in the different States, declaring his intention to resign the presidency, and giving reasons why it would be inconvenient for him to attend the general meeting. He thought himself thus placed in a delicate situation. Were he to be present at the convention, the members of the Cincinnati Society might suppose they had just grounds for suspecting his sincerity, or even of charging him with having deserted the officers, who had so nobly supported him during the war, and always manifested towards him uncommon respect and attachment. Having a grateful sense of their affection, and reciprocating in reality all their kind feelings, he was reluctant to put himself in a condition, by which their favorable sentiments would be altered, or their sensibility in any degree wounded.

Again, some of his friends in various parts of the country expressed themselves doubtingly in their letters, as to the propriety of his going to the convention, and some advised