I am told that even respectable characters speak of a monarchical form of government without horror.  From thinking proceeds speaking; thence to acting is often but a single step.  But how irrevocable and tremendous!  What a triumph for our enemies to verify their predictions!  What a triumph for the advocates of despotism to find, that we are incapable of governing ourselves, and that systems founded on the basis of equal liberty are merely ideal and fallacious!  Would to God, that wise measures may be taken in time to avert the consequences we have but too much reason to apprehend.[1]

[Footnote 1:  Hapgood, 285.]

In the renewal of his life at Mount Vernon, Washington gave almost as much attention to the cultivation of friendship as to that of his estate.  He pursued with great zest the career of planter-farmer.  “I think,” he wrote a friend, “with you, that the life of a husbandman of all others is the most delectable.  It is honorable, it is amusing, and, with judicious management, it is profitable.  To see plants rise from the earth and flourish by the superior skill and bounty of the laborer fills a contemplative mind with ideas which are more easy to be conceived than expressed."[1]

[Footnote 1:  Hapgood, 288.]

The cultivation of his friendships he carried on by letters and by entertaining his friends as often as he could at Mount Vernon.  To Benjamin Harrison he wrote:  “My friendship is not in the least lessened by the difference, which has taken place in our political sentiments, nor is my regard for you diminished by the part you have acted."[1]

[Footnote 1:  Ibid., 289.]

How constantly the flock of guests frequented Mount Vernon we can infer from this entry in his diary for June 30, 1785:  “Dined with only Mrs. Washington which, I believe, is the first instance of it since my retirement from public life.”  To his young friend Lafayette he wrote without reserve in a vein of deep affection: 

At length, my dear Marquis, I am become a private citizen on the banks of the Potomac; and under the shadow of my own vine and my own fig-tree, free from the bustle of a camp, and the busy scenes of public life, I am solacing myself with those tranquil enjoyments, of which the soldier, who is ever in pursuit of fame, the statesman, whose watchful days and sleepless nights are spent in devising schemes to promote the welfare of his own, perhaps the ruin of other countries, as if this globe was insufficient for us all, and the courtier, who is always watching the countenance of his prince, in hopes of catching a gracious smile, can have very little conception.  I have not only retired from all public employments, but I am retiring within myself, and shall be able to view the solitary walk, and tread the paths of private life, with heartful satisfaction.  Envious of none, I am determined to be pleased with all; and this, my dear friend, being the order of my march, I will move gently down the stream of life, until I sleep with my fathers.[1]

[Footnote 1:  Hapgood, 287.]