the battle of Bunker Hill.  The same undisciplined militia under the command and good conduct of General Washington, continued that army confined in or near the capital, until they thought proper to change their position and retreated with haste to Halifax.—­If the Militia of the Commonwealth can be made still more effective, I am confident that you will not delay a measure of so great magnitude.  I beg leave to refer you to the seventeenth article in our Declaration of Rights, which respects the danger of standing armies in time of peace.  I hope we shall ever have virtue enough to guard against their introduction.—­But may we not hazard the safety of our Republic should we ever constitute, under the name of a select militia, a small body to be disciplined in a camp with all the pomp & splendor of a regular army?  Would such an institution be likely to be much less dangerous to our free government and to the morals of our youth, than if they were actually enlisted for permanent service?  And would they not as usual in standing armies feel a distinct interest from that of our fellow-citizens at large?  The great principles of our present militia system are undoubtedly good, constituting one simple body, and embracing so great a proportion of the citizens as will prevent a separate interest among them, inconsistent with the welfare of the whole.—­Those principles, however, I conceive should equally apply to all the active citizens, within the age prescribed by law.—­All are deeply interested in the general security; and where there are no invidious exemptions, partial distinctions or privileged bands, every Man, it is presumed, would pride himself in the right of bearing arms, and affording his personal appearance in common with his fellow-citizens.  If upon examination you shall find, that the duties incident to our present system bear harder on one class of citizens, than on another, you will undoubtedly endeavour, as far as possible, to equalize its burthens.

Friends and fellow-citizens,

I think it a duty incumbent upon me to acquaint you, and our fellow-citizens at large, that having arrived to a stage of life, marked in holy writ, and verified by constant experience, as a time of labour and sorrow; it is highly proper both upon my own account, as well as that of the public, to decline the future suffrages of my fellow-citizens for the office I have now the honor to sustain.1 I have had this in contemplation near a twelve month past.  The infirmities of age render me an unfit person in my own opinion, and very probably in the opinion of others, to continue in this station; and I mention it now, that those of the electors who may probably be too warmly attached to me, may not nullify their own votes by giving them for me.  I have always been convinced that many others might have been found to fill my place with greater advantage to the Commonwealth than is now or ever has been in my power.—­In the Civil