None of these facts, none of these symptoms, escaped the vigilant sagacity of Washington. His natural taste for private life and the repose of Mount Vernon returned with double force. His past success, far from inspiring confidence, made him more fearful for the future. Modestly, but passionately attached to the consideration in which he was held, and to his glory, he was unwilling they should suffer the least abatement. The earnest wish expressed by all would not have been sufficient to determine him; his personal convictions, the public good, the obvious urgency of affairs, the desire or rather the duty of carrying on still further his work yet incomplete, were alone able to overbalance in his mind the dictates of prudence and inclination. He weighed and discussed within himself these different motives, with a more anxious solicitude than seemed to be consistent with his nature, and ended by saying, in the pious weariness of his spirit, "As the all-wise Disposer of events has hitherto watched over my steps, I trust, that, in the important one I may soon be called upon to take, he will mark the course so plainly, as that I cannot mistake the way." [Footnote 76]
[Footnote 76: Washington's Writings, Vol. X. p. 286.]
Unanimously reelected, he resumed his duties with the same disinterestedness, the same courage, and, in spite of his success, with less confidence, perhaps, than the first time. He had a true presentiment of the trials which awaited him.
There are some events which Providence does not permit those who live at the time of their occurrence to understand; so vast, so complicated, that they far surpass the comprehension of man, and, even when they are exploding, still remain for a long time darkly hidden in the depths, from which proceed those shocks, that ultimately decide the destinies of the world.
Such was the French revolution. Who has measured it? whose judgment and forecast have not been a thousand times deceived by it, whether friends or foes, admirers or detractors? When the spirit of society and the spirit of man are shaken and convulsed to such a degree, results are produced which no imagination had conceived, no forethought could grasp.
That which experience has taught us, Washington caught sight of from the first day. At the time when the French Revolution had hardly begun, he was already suspending his judgment, and taking his position aloof from all parties and all spectators; free from the presumption of their predictions, from the blindness of their hostility or their hope. "The whole business is so extraordinary in its commencement, so wonderful in its progress, and maybe so stupendous in its consequences, that I am almost lost in the contemplation. … Nobody is more anxious for the happy issue of that business, than I am; as no one can wish more sincerely for the prosperity of the French nation, than I do." [Footnote 77]
[Footnote 77: Washington's Writings, Vol. X. p. 89.]
"If it ends as our last accounts, to the first of August, [1789,] predict, that nation will be the most powerful and happy in Europe; but I fear, though it has gone triumphantly through the first paroxysm, it is not the last it has to encounter before, matters are finally settled. … The mortification of the king, the intrigues of the queen, and the discontent of the princes and noblesse, will foment divisions, if possible, in the National Assembly; … the licentiousness of the people on one hand, and sanguinary punishments on the other, will alarm the best disposed friends to the measure. … To forbear running from one extreme to another is no easy matter; and, should this be the case, rocks and shelves, not visible at present, may wreck the vessel, and give a higher-toned despotism than the one which existed before." [Footnote 78] "It is a boundless ocean, whence no land is to be seen." [Footnote 79]