He made himself deeply felt in this way everywhere, but of course more in his own State than anywhere else.  His confidence at first in regard to Virginia changed gradually to an intense and well-grounded anxiety, and he not only used every means, as the conflict extended, to strengthen his friends and gain votes, but he received and circulated personally copies of “The Federalist,” in order to educate public opinion.  The contest in the Virginia convention was for a long time doubtful, but finally the end was reached, and the decision was favorable.  Without Washington’s influence, it is safe to say that the Constitution would have been lost in Virginia, and without Virginia the great experiment would probably have failed.  In the same spirit he worked on after the new scheme had secured enough States to insure a trial.  The Constitution had been ratified; it must now be made to work, and Washington wrote earnestly to the leaders in the various States, urging them to see to it that “Federalists,” stanch friends of the Constitution, were elected to Congress.  There was no vagueness about his notions on this point.  A party had carried the Constitution and secured its ratification, and to that party he wished the administration and establishment of the new system to be intrusted.  He did not take the view that, because the fight was over, it was henceforth to be considered that there had been no fight, and that all men were politically alike.  He was quite ready to do all in his power to conciliate the opponents of union and the Constitution, but he did not believe that the momentous task of converting the paper system into a living organism should be confided to any hands other than those of its tried and trusty friends.

But while he was looking so carefully after the choice of the right men to fill the legislature of the new government, the people of the country turned to him with the universal demand that he should stand at the head of it, and fill the great office of first President of the Republic.  In response to the first suggestion that came, he recognized the fact that he was likely to be again called upon for another great public service, and added simply that at his age it involved a sacrifice which admitted of no compensation.  He maintained this tone whenever he alluded to the subject, in response to the numerous letters urging him to accept.  But although he declined to announce any decision, he had made up his mind to the inevitable.  He had put his hand to the plough, and he would not turn back.  His only anxiety was that the people should know that he shrank from the office, and would only leave his farm to take it from a sense of overmastering duty.  Besides his reluctance to engage in a fresh struggle, and his fear that his motives might be misunderstood, he had the same diffidence in his own abilities which weighed upon him when he took command of the armies.  His passion for success, which determined him to accept