"To see men without clothes to cover their nakedness," he exclaimed, "without blankets to lie upon, without victuals and often without shoes (for you might follow their track by the blood that trickled from their feet), advancing through ice and snow, and taking up their winter-quarters, at Christmas, less than a day's march from the enemy, in a place where they have not to shelter them either houses or huts but such as they have thrown up themselves,--to see these men doing all this without a murmur, is an exhibition of patience and obedience such as the world has rarely seen." As a set-off against the impassioned devotion of the patriots, Washington knew that the loyalists were still numerous and powerful; the burden of war was beginning to press heavily upon the whole country, he feared some act of weakness.

"Let us accept nothing short of Independence," he wrote at once to his friends: "we can never forget the outrages to which Great Britain has made us--submit; a peace on any other conditions would be a source of perpetual disputes.

If Great Britain, urged on by her love for tyranny, were to seek once more to bend our necks beneath her iron yoke, -- and she would do so, you may be sure, for her pride and her ambition are indomitable,--what nation would believe any more in our professions of faith and would lend us its support?
It is to be feared, however, that the proposals of England will produce a great effect in this country.

Men are naturally friends of peace, and there is more than one symptom to lead me to believe that the American people are generally weary of war.

If it be so, nothing can be more politic than to inspire the country with confidence by putting the army on an imposing footing, and by showing greater energy in our negotiations with European powers.
I think that by now France must have recognized our independence, and that she will immediately declare war against Great Britain, when she sees that we have made serious proposals of alliance to her.