“It would be difficult to exaggerate that story,” snorted Livingston.”  Hamilton defended his course in regard to the Tories in two pamphlets, signed ‘Phocion.’  They were answered by a Mr. Ledyard, who signed himself ‘Mentor,’ and was a conspicuous advocate of the damnable spirit of revenge possessing this country.  It is a bold man indeed who enters into a conflict of the pen with Hamilton, and ‘Mentor’ was left without a leg to stand on.  Forthwith, a club of Ledyard’s friends and sympathizers, enraged by defeat, and fearing the growing ascendency of Hamilton over men’s minds, deliberately agreed to challenge him in turn until he was silenced forever.  This atrocious project would undoubtedly have been carried out, had not Ledyard himself repudiated it with horror.  Can you show me a greater instance of the depravity of human nature, sir?”

“We are in a ferment of bitter passions,” said Marshall, sadly, “and I fear they will be worse before they are better.  I only hope that Hamilton will not be swept into their current, for upon his keeping his balance depends the future greatness of this country.  I am at your service, sir, for I will confess my two legs are tired.”

II

As the three men turned into Broadway they saluted a man who was entering Wall Street.  It was Hamilton, hastening home to his family after the day’s work.  He had lost his boyish slenderness; his figure had broadened and filled out sufficiently to add to his presence while destroying nothing of its symmetry or agile grace, and it was dressed with the same care.  His face was as gay and animated as ever, responded with the old mobility to every passing thought, but its lines and contours showed the hard work and severe thought of the last four years.  When he was taking a brief holiday with his friends, or tumbling about the floor with his little brood, he felt as much a boy as ever, but no one appreciated more fully than he the terrible responsibility of his position in the Confederation.  His abilities, combined with his patriotism, had forced him to the head of the Nationalist Party, for whose existence he was in greatest measure responsible; and he hardly dared to think of his personal ambitions, nor could he hesitate to neglect his lucrative practice whenever the crying needs of the country demanded it.  He had also given much time to the creating and organization of the Bank of New York.  But Burr was not far wrong when he accused him of impatience.  His bearing was more imperious, his eye flashed more intolerantly, than ever.  To impute to him monarchical ambitions was but the fling of a smarting jealousy, but it is quite true that he felt he knew what was best for the country, and would have liked to regulate its affairs without further hindrance.