Address to the Officers at Newburgh

Gentlemen: By an anonymous summons, an attempt has been made to convene you together; how inconsistent with the rules of propriety, how unmilitary, and how subversive of all order and discipline, let the good sense of each officer decide.

If my conduct heretofore has not evinced to you that I have been a faithful friend to the Army, my declaration of it at this time would be equally unavailing and improper. But I have a right to give one more distinguished proof of my affection in your present distress.

Gentlemen, you will permit me to put on my spectacles, for I have not only grown gray but almost blind in the service of my country.

Let me entreat you, gentlemen, on your part, not to take any measures which, viewed in the calm light of reason, will lessen the dignity and sully the glory you have hitherto maintained; let me request you to rely on the plighted faith of your country, and place a full confidence in the purity of the intentions of Congress.

You will, by the dignity of your conduct, afford the occasion for posterity to say, when speaking of the glorious example you have exhibited to mankind: “Had this day been wanting, the world had never seen the last stage of perfection to which human nature is capable of attaining.”