itution was
ascertained, his correspondents began to press him on a point which
was believed essential to the completion of the great work on which
the grandeur and happiness of America was supposed to depend. "We can
not," said Mr. Johnson, a gentleman of great political eminence in
Maryland, "do without you, and I, and thousands more can explain to
any body but yourself, why we can not do without you." "I have ever
thought," said Mr. Gouverneur Morris, a gentleman who had been among
the most valuable members of congress through great part of the war,
and who had performed a most splendid part in the general convention,
"and have ever said that you must be president; no other man can fill
that office. No other man can draw forth the abilities of our country
into the various departments of civil life. You alone can awe the
insolence of opposing factions, and the greater insolence of assuming
adherents. I say nothing of foreign powers, nor of their ministers.
With these last you will have some plague. As to your feelings on this
occasion, they are, I know, both deep and affecting; you embark
property most precious on a most tempestuous ocean: for, as you
possess the highest reputation, so you expose it to the perilous
chance of popular opinion. On the other hand, you will, I firmly
expect, enjoy the inexpressible felicity of contributing to the
happiness of all your countrymen. You will become the father of more
than three millions of children; and while your bosom glows with
parental tenderness, in theirs, or at least in a majority of them, you
will excite the duteous sentiments of filial affection. This, I repeat
it, is what I firmly expect; and my views are not directed by that
enthusiasm which your public character has impressed on the public
mind. Enthusiasm is generally short sighted and too often blind. I
form my conclusions from those talents and virtues which the world
_believes_, and which your friends _know_ you possess."

To those who attribute human action in every case to the motives which
most usually guide the human mind, it will appear scarcely possible
that the supreme magistracy could possess no charms for a man long
accustomed to command others; and that ambition had no share in
tempting the hero of the American revolution to tread once more the
paths of public life. Yet, if his communications to friends to whom he
unbosomed the inmost sentiments of his soul be inspected, it will be
difficult to resi