The contest for the prizes of the two Houses had been hot and bitter, and Hamilton had never been more active.  As a result, the Federalists controlled the Senate, and they had elected four of the six Representatives.  Philip Schuyler had drawn the short term in the Senate, and the antagonism of the Livingstons to Hamilton enabled Burr to displace him two years later.  The signal mistakes of Hamilton’s political career were in his party management.  One of the greatest leaders in history, cool and wise, and of a consummate judgement in all matters of pure statesmanship, he was too hot-headed and impetuous, too obstinate when his righting blood was up, for the skilful manipulation of politics.  But so long as the Federal party endured, no other leader was contemplated:  his integrity was spotless, his motives unquestioned, his patriotism and stupendous abilities the glory of his party; by sheer force of genius he carried everything before him, whether his methods were approved by the more conservative Federalists or not.

Madison, who mildly desired an office, possibly in the Cabinet, he despatched South to get himself elected to Congress, for he must have powerful friends in that body to support the great measures he had in contemplation; and that not unambitious statesman, after a hot fight with Patrick Henry, was obliged to content himself with a seat in the House.  Before he went to Virginia he and Hamilton had talked for long and pleasant hours over the Federal leader’s future schemes.  In all things he was in accord with his Captain, and had warmly promised his support.

It was some weeks before Hamilton had a private interview with Washington, although he had dined at his house, entertained him, and been present at several informal consultations on such minor questions as the etiquette of the Administration.  But delicacy held him from embarrassing Washington in a familiar interview until he had been invited formally to a position in the contemplated cabinet.  He knew that Washington wished him to be Secretary of the Treasury, but he also knew that that most cautious and conscientious of men would not trust to his own judgement in so grave a matter, nor take any step without weeks of anxious thought.  The more deeply were Washington’s affections or desires engaged, the more cautious would he be.  He was not a man of genius, therefore fell into none of the pitfalls of that terrible gift; he was great by virtue of his superhuman moral strength—­and it is safe to say that in public life he never experienced a temptation—­by a wisdom that no mental heat ever unbalanced, by an unrivalled instinct for the best and most useful in human beings, and by a public conscience to which he would have unhesitatingly sacrificed himself and all he loved, were it a question of the nation’s good.  But Hamilton knew whom he would consult, and devoted himself to his legal work without a qualm for the future.  As he had anticipated, Washington wrote to Robert Morris for advice, and the reply of that eminent financier, that “Hamilton was the one man in the United States competent to cope with the extreme difficulties of that office,” pleasantly ended the indecision of the President, and he communicated with Hamilton at once.