made with England; for in the treaty with Great Britain
an amnesty had been agreed to for all acts done during
the war by military orders. The interests of
the plaintiff were overlooked in the great question
whether the authority of Congress and the law of nations,
or the law of a State legislature, should have the
ascendency. In other words, Congress and the
State of New York were in conflict as to which should
be paramount,—the law of Congress, or the
law of a sovereign State,—in a matter which
affected a national treaty. If the treaty were
violated, new complications would arise with England,
and the authority of Congress be treated with contempt.
Hamilton grappled with the subject in the most comprehensive
manner,—like a statesman rather than a
lawyer,—made a magnificent argument in favor
of the general government, and gained his case; although
it would seem that natural justice was in favor of
the poor woman, deprived of the use of her house by
a wealthy alien, during the war. He rendered a
service to centralized authority, to the power of
Congress. It was the incipient contest between
Federal and State authority. It was enlightened
reason and patriotism gaining a victory over popular
passions, over the assumptions of a State. It
defined the respective rights of a State and of the
Nation collectively. It was one of those cases
which settled the great constitutional question that
the authority of the Nation was greater than that
of any State which composed it, in matters where Congress
had a recognized jurisdiction.
It was about this time that Hamilton was brought in
legal conflict with another young man of great abilities,
ambition, and popularity; and this man was Aaron Burr,
a grandson of Jonathan Edwards. Like Hamilton,
he had gained great distinction in the war, and was
one of the rising young men of the country. He
was superior to Hamilton in personal popularity and
bewitching conversation; his equal in grace of manner,
in forensic eloquence and legal reputation, but his
inferior in comprehensive intellect and force of character.
Hamilton dwelt in the region of great ideas and principles;
Burr loved to resort to legal technicalities, sophistries,
and the dexterous use of dialectical weapons.
In arguing a case he would descend to every form of
annoyance and interruption, by quibbles, notices,
and appeals. Both lawyers were rapid, logical,
compact, and eloquent. Both seized the strong
points of a case, like Mason and Webster. Hamilton
was earnest and profound, and soared to elemental
principles. Burr was acute, adroit, and appealed
to passions. Both admired each other’s
talents and crossed each other’s tracks,—rivals
at the Bar and in political aspirations. The legal
career of both was eclipsed by their political labors.
The lawyer, in Hamilton’s case, was lost in
the statesman, and in Burr’s in the politician.
And how wide the distinction between a statesman and
a politician! To be a great statesman a man must