Painful, therefore, as it is, this lesson, of the wrong that may be done by a breach of public faith, must be read. It lies open on the page of history, and is the case of those to whose right arms the people of this country owe the splendid inheritance of liberty. All real palliations should be sought for and admitted. The country was poor: no proper system of finance had been, or could be, developed by a government which had no power of taxation; and the ideas and feelings of the people of many of the States were provincial, and without the liberality and enlargement of thought which comes of intercourse with the world. But, after every apology has exhausted its force, the conscientious student of history must mark the dereliction from public duty; must admit what the public faith required; and must observe the dangerous consequences which attend, and must ever attend, the breach of a public obligation. The immediate consequences which followed, in this instance, were predicted by General Washington, who gave the clearest warning, in advance of the officers' memorial, of the hazards that would attend the further neglect of their claims. But his warning seems to have been unheeded, or to have made but little impression against the prevailing aversion to touch the unpopular subject of half-pay. The committee of the officers were in attendance upon Congress during the whole winter, and early in March, 1783, they wrote to their constituents that nothing had been done. At this moment, the predicament in which Washington stood, in the double relation of citizen and soldier, was critical and delicate in the extreme. In the course of a few days, all his firmness and patriotism, all his sympathies as an officer, on the one side, and his fidelity to the government on the other, were severely tried. On the 10th of March, an anonymous address was circulated among the officers at Newburgh, calling a meeting of the general and field officers, and of one officer from each company, and one from the medical staff, to consider the late letter from their representatives at Philadelphia, and to determine what measures should be adopted to obtain that redress of grievances which they seemed to have solicited in vain. It was written with great ability and skill.[174] It spoke the language of injured feeling; it pointed directly to the sword, as the remedy for injustice; and it spoke to men who were suffering keenly under public ingratitude and neglect. Its eloquence and its passion fell, therefore, upon hearts not insensible, and a dangerous explosion seemed to be at hand. Washington met the crisis with firmness, but also with conciliation. He issued orders forbidding an assemblage at the call of an anonymous paper, and directing the officers to assemble on Saturday, the 15th, to hear the report of their committee, and to deliberate what further measures ought to be adopted as most rational and best calculated to obtain the just and important object in view.