Hamilton, in truth, was roused to his dregs.  The sneaking retreat of Madison from his standard and affections, the rancorous enmity of Monroe, with whom he had fought side by side and been well with whenever they had been thrown together in the bitter winters of inaction; the slow, cool, determined, deadly opposition of Jefferson, whom he recognized as a giant in intellect and despised as a man with that hot contempt for the foe who will not strip and fight in the open, which whips a passionate nature to the point of fury, had converted Hamilton into a colossus of hate which, as Madison had intimated, far surpassed the best endeavours of the powerful trio.  He hated harder, for he had more to hate with,—­stronger and deeper passions, ampler resources in his intellect, and an energy of temperament which Jefferson and Madison, recruited by Monroe, could not outweigh.  He saw that he was in for the battle of his life, and that its finish might be deferred for years; for he made no such mistake as to underrate the strength and resources of this triple enemy; he knew that it would last until one or the other were worn out.  Hamilton had no thought of defeat; he never contemplated it for a moment; his faith in himself and in the wisdom of his measures was absolute; what he looked forward to with the deepest irritation was the persistent opposition, the clogging of his wheels of progress, the constant personal attacks which might weaken him with the country before his multitudinous objects should be accomplished.  He suggested resource after resource to his faithful and brilliant disciples in Congress, and he determined to force Jefferson to leave the Cabinet.

“If he only would take himself out of that room with a defiant admission that he intended to head the opposite party and fight me to the death!” he exclaimed to Mrs. Croix, one day.  “What right has he to sit there at Washington’s hand, a member of his Cabinet, ostensibly in its first place, and at war with every measure of the Administration?  He cannot oppose me without involving the President, under whom he holds office, and if he had a grain of decent feeling he would resign rather than occupy such an anomalous position.”

“He intends to force you to resign.”

“You don’t mean to say that he is coming here?” asked Hamilton, in disgust.  “Who next?”

“Mr. Jefferson succumbed quite three weeks ago,” said Mrs. Croix, gaily.  “He amuses me, and I am instilling the conviction that no human being can force you to do anything you don’t want to do, and that the sooner he retreats gracefully the better.”