ent all and more than the most brilliant of military
chiefs could have achieved by absolute power, is a glory which belongs
to Washington alone.

Nevertheless, at that particular juncture it was, as he himself had
said, "high time for a peace." The danger at Newburgh had been averted
by his commanding influence and the patriotic conduct of the army. But
it had been averted only, not removed. The snake was scotched, not
killed. The finishing stroke was still needed in the form of an end to
hostilities, and it was therefore fortunate for the United States that
a fortnight later, on March 23, news came that a general treaty
of peace had been signed. This final consummation of his work, in
addition to the passage by Congress of the half-pay commutation and
the settlement of the army accounts, filled Washington with deep
rejoicing. He felt that in a short time, a few weeks at most, he would
be free to withdraw to the quiet life at Mount Vernon for which he
longed. But public bodies move slowly, and one delay after another
occurred to keep him still in the harness. He chafed under the
postponement, but it was not possible to him to remain idle even when
he awaited in almost daily expectation the hour of dismissal. He saw
with the instinctive glance of statesmanship that the dangerous point
in the treaty of peace was in the provisions as to the western posts
on the one side, and those relating to British debts on the other. A
month therefore had not passed before he brought to the attention
of Congress the importance of getting immediate possession of those
posts, and a little later he succeeded in having Steuben sent out as a
special envoy to obtain their surrender. The mission was vain, as he
had feared. He was not destined to extract this thorn for many years,
and then only after many trials and troubles. Soon afterward he made a
journey with Governor Clinton to Ticonderoga, and along the valley of
the Mohawk, "to wear away the time," as he wrote to Congress. He wore
away time to more purpose than most people, for where he traveled he
observed closely, and his observations were lessons which he never
forgot. On this trip he had the western posts and the Indians always
in mind, and familiarized himself with the conditions of a part of the
country where these matters were of great importance.

On his return he went to Princeton, where Congress had been sitting
since their flight from the mutiny which he had recently suppress