In 1779, the officers of a New Jersey regiment, imperfectly paid, burdened with debts contracted in the service, anxious about their future prospects and those of their families, made an official declaration to the legislature of that State, that they would resign in a body, if they were not better treated. Washington blamed them extremely, and required of them to withdraw their declaration; but they persisted in their course. "It was, and still is, our determination to march with our regiment, and to do the duty of officers, until the legislature should have a reasonable time to appoint others, but no longer. We beg leave to assure your Excellency, that we have the highest sense of your ability and virtues; that executing your orders has ever given us pleasure; that we love the service, and love our country; but when that country gets so lost to virtue and justice, as to forget to support its servants, it then becomes their duty to retire from its service." [Footnote 38] [Footnote 38: Marshall's _Life of Washington_, Vol. IV. p. 47.] {77} Thus, respect for Washington appeared conspicuously, even in the cabals formed against him, and was mingled with disobedience itself. In the state of distress and disorganization into which the American army was perpetually falling, the personal influence of Washington, the affection which was felt for him, the desire of imitating his example, the fear of losing his esteem, or even of giving him pain, deserve to be enumerated among the principal causes, which kept many men, both officers and soldiers, at their posts, kindled anew their zeal, and formed among them that military _esprit de corps_, that friendship of the camp, which is a feeling of great strength, and a fine compensating influence in so rough a profession. It is a privilege of great men, and often a corrupting one, to inspire affection and devotedness, without feeling them in return. This vice of greatness Washington was exempt from. He loved his associates, his officers, his army. It was not merely from a sense of justice and duty, that he sympathized in their sufferings, and took their interests into his own hands with an indefatigable zeal. {78} He regarded them with a truly tender feeling, marked by compassion for the sufferings he had seen them endure, and by gratitude for the attachment which they had shown to him. And when, in 1783, at the close of the war, at Frances's tavern, in New York, the principal officers, at the moment of their final separation, passed in silence before him, each one pressing his hand as he went by, he was himself moved and agitated, at heart and in his countenance, to a degree that seemed hardly consistent with the firm composure of his spirit.