Probably no series of political essays has done so much to mould the opinions of American statesmen as those of “The Federalist,”—­a thesaurus of political wisdom, as much admired in Europe as in America.  It was translated into most of the European languages, and in France placed side by side with Montesquieu’s “Spirit of Laws” in genius and ability.  It was not written for money or fame, but from patriotism, to enlighten the minds of the people, and prepare them for the reception of the Constitution.

In this great work Hamilton rendered a mighty service to his country.  Nothing but the conclusive arguments which he made, assisted by Jay and Madison, aroused the people fully to a sense of the danger attending an imperfect union of States.  By the efforts of Hamilton outside the convention, more even than in the convention, the Constitution was finally adopted,—­first by Delaware and last by Rhode Island, in 1790, and then only by one majority in the legislature.  So difficult was the work of construction.  We forget the obstacles and the anxieties and labors of our early statesmen, in the enjoyment of our present liberties.

But the public services of Hamilton do not end here.  To him pre-eminently belongs the glory of restoring or creating our national credit, and relieving universal financial embarrassments.  The Constitution was the work of many men.  Our financial system was the work of one, who worked alone, as Michael Angelo worked on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

When Washington became President, he at once made choice of Hamilton as his Secretary of the Treasury, at the recommendation of Robert Morris, the financier of the Revolution, who not only acknowledged his own obligations to him, but declared that he was the only man in the United States who could settle the difficulty about the public debt.  In finance, Hamilton, it is generally conceded, had an original and creative genius.  “He smote the rock of the national resources,” said Webster, “and abundant streams of revenue gushed forth.  He touched the dead corpse of the public credit, and it sprang upon its feet.  The fabled birth of Minerva from the brain of Jupiter was hardly more sudden than the financial system of the United States as it burst from the conception of Alexander Hamilton.”

When he assumed the office of Secretary of the Treasury there were five forms of public indebtedness for which he was required to provide,—­the foreign debt; debts of the Government to States; the army debt; the debt for supplies in the various departments during the war; and the old Continental issues.  There was no question about the foreign debt.  The assumption of the State debts incurred for the war was identical with the debts of the Union, since they were incurred for the same object.  In fact, all the various obligations had to be discharged, and there was neither money nor credit.  Hamilton proposed a foreign loan, to be raised in Europe; but the old financiers