Never did a man ascend to the highest dignity by a more direct path, nor in compliance with a more universal wish, nor with an influence wider and more welcome. He hesitated much. In leaving the command of the army, he had openly announced, and had sincerely promised himself, that he should live in retirement, a stranger to public affairs. To change his plans, to sacrifice his tastes and his repose, for very uncertain success, perhaps to be charged with inconsistency and ambition, this was to him an immense effort. {92} The assembling of Congress was delayed; the election of Washington to the presidency, though known, had not been officially announced to him. "For myself," he wrote to his friend, Gen Knox, "the delay may be compared to a reprieve; for, in confidence I tell you, (with the _world_ it would obtain little credit,) that my movements to the chair of government will be accompanied by feelings not unlike those of a culprit, who is going to the place of his execution; so unwilling am I, in the evening of a life nearly consumed in public cares, to quit a peaceful abode for an ocean of difficulties, without that competency of political skill, abilities, and inclination, which are necessary to manage the helm." [Footnote 52] [Footnote 52: Washington's Writings, Vol. IX. p. 488.] The message at length arrived, and he commenced his journey. In his Diary, he writes; "About ten o'clock, I bade adieu to Mount Vernon, to private life, and to domestic felicity; and, with a mind oppressed with more anxious and painful sensations than I have words to express, set out for New York, with the best disposition to render service to my country, in obedience to its call, but with less hope of answering its expectations." [Footnote 53] [Footnote 53: Washington's Writings, Vol. X. p. 461.] {93} His journey was a triumphal procession; on the road, and in the towns, the whole population came out to meet him, with shouts of applause and prayers in his behalf. He entered New York, conducted by a committee of Congress, in an elegantly decorated barge, rowed by thirteen pilots, representing the thirteen States, in the midst of an immense crowd in the harbor and upon the shore. His own state of feeling remained the same. "The display of boats," says he in his Diary, "which attended and joined on this occasion, some with vocal and others with instrumental music on board; the decorations of the ships, the roar of cannon, and the loud acclamations of the people, which rent the sky as I passed along the wharves, filled my mind with sensations as painful (contemplating the reverse of this scene, which may be the case, after all my labors to do good,) as they were pleasing." [Footnote 54] [Footnote 54: Marshall's _Life of Washington_, Vol. V. p. 159.] {94}