Alexander Hamilton

by Charles A. Conant

Hamilton spoke on a few other occasions on subsidiary points connected with the draft of the Constitution, but it was only at the close of the convention that he again came resolutely to the front to exert a strong influence over his associates. When the final draft of the new frame of government had been completed, several delegates showed symptoms of refusing to affix their signatures. The great weight of Franklin was thrown into the scale to urge that the delegates go back to the people presenting the semblance of harmony instead of divisions. "I consent to this Constitution," he declared, "because I expect no better, and because I am not sure that it is not the best." Washington sought also to secure unanimity, and Hamilton declared:—

"I am anxious that every member should sign. A few by refusing may do infinite mischief. No man's ideas are more remote from the plan than my own are known to be; but is it possible to deliberate between anarchy and convulsion on the one side, and the chance of good to be expected from the plan on the other?"

Such words had some weight, but not enough to secure unanimity. All the states voted for the Constitution, but several delegates went on record against it, and Hamilton's two associates from New York were absent. It was this alone which saved New York from being recorded against the Constitution. Hamilton did not shrink from putting down his signature as the representative of his state. It was he who, in a bold, plain hand, inscribed on the great sheet of parchment the name of each state, as the delegations came forward, one after another, in geographical order and affixed their signatures to the precious document which was to found the government of the United States.

Hamilton returned to New York determined to use his utmost powers to secure the ratification of the Constitution as the best attainable means of averting the dangers of disunion. Although cordially supported by John Jay and Edward Livingston, Hamilton, in the fight for ratification in New York, was the natural leader. He found arrayed against him the whole influence of Governor Clinton and the dominant party in New York politics. Clinton was not absolutely opposed to union, but he attached to it so many reservations that for practical purposes he was an opponent of the new Constitution. The battle over ratification began on the question of the choice of delegates to the state convention. It was in this field that Hamilton fought the great fight with his pen which has left to posterity the fine exposition of the Constitution known as "The Federalist." A society was formed in the city of New York to resist the adoption of the Constitution, and articles soon began to appear in the local press criticising and opposing it.

Preparing a vigorous letter, while gliding down the Hudson, in reply to some of the first points of the opposition, Hamilton soon extended the project into a series of strong papers, which appeared twice a week for twenty weeks over the signature of "Publius." He secured the aid of Madison and Jay, who wrote some of the papers, but the project was Hamilton's, the majority of the papers were written by him, and to him has been justly given the credit of the well-knit and powerful arguments afterwards printed under the title of "The Federalist."

Taking up point by point the provisions of the new Constitution, Hamilton, by skillful argument, drawn from the closest abstract reasoning, the recent experience of the states, and the history of foreign countries, sought to show that the new Constitution was based upon sound principles of government, that it was well calculated to carry out these principles, and that its acceptance was practically the only course open to the American people to insure for themselves the benefits of liberty, prosperity, and peace. "The Federalist," although a purely political argument, has survived the occasion which called it forth, as one of the master documents of political writing. That it has a distinct place in literature is admitted by so severe a critic as Professor Barrett Wendell in his recent "Literary History of America." It is worth while quoting his acute literary judgment of its merits:—

"As a series of formal essays, the 'Federalist' groups itself roughly with the 'Tatler,' the 'Spectator,' and those numerous descendants of theirs which fill the literary records of eighteenth century England. It differs, however, from all these, in both substance and purpose. The 'Tatler,' the 'Spectator,' and their successors dealt with superficial matters in a spirit of literary amenity: the 'Federalist' deals in an argumentative spirit as earnest as that of any Puritan divine with political principles paramount in our history; and it is so wisely thoughtful that one may almost declare it the permanent basis of sound thinking concerning American constitutional law. Like all the educated writing of the eighteenth century, too, it is phrased with a rhythmical balance and urbane polish which give it claim to literary distinction."

While the written arguments of Hamilton in "The Federalist" have survived for a hundred years and been consulted by foreign students in the formation of new constitutions, a more severe task was imposed upon him at the meeting of the state convention called to consider the report of the convention at Philadelphia. It was in some respects the hardest task ever set with any hope of success before a parliamentary leader. Indeed, to the superficial observer there would have seemed to be no hope of success, when in the elections to the state convention the supporters of Governor Clinton chose forty-six delegates and left on the side of Hamilton only nineteen of the sixty-five members. But this statement of the case gives a somewhat darker color to the situation than the real facts. There was a strong and growing body of public sentiment for the Constitution in New York city and the counties along the Hudson, which even led to the suggestion that they should join the Union in any event and leave the northern counties to shift for themselves. It was generally recognized, moreover, that however strong the objections were to the Constitution, the choice lay practically between this Constitution and none,—between the proposed government and anarchy.

So strong was the sentiment that the Constitution must be accepted in some form, that its opponents in the state convention did not venture upon immediate rejection. Fortunately, their course in fighting for delay only tended to make it clearer that New York would stand alone if she failed to ratify. While the dream of independent sovereignty, or the leadership in a federation which should dictate terms to the surrounding states, was not without its attractions to the more ambitious of the opposition leaders, there was a darker side to the proposition which was much less attractive. Independence for New York meant a heavy burden of taxation for a separate army and navy, for guarding long frontiers on the east, north, and south, for supporting an extensive customs service along the same frontiers, for maintaining ministers at foreign courts and consuls in the leading cities of the world, and for meeting all the other expenses of a sovereign nation.