an abstract proposition, had convinced, and finally, all to whom it was shown; with the exception of Jefferson, who had no intention of being convinced.  Hamilton was conscious that there was no vulnerable point in his public armour.  Of his private he was not so sure; Reynolds was in jail, for attempting, in company with one Clingman, to suborn a witness to commit perjury, and had appealed to him for aid.  He had ignored him, determined to submit to no further blackmail, be the consequences what they might.  But he was the last man to anticipate trouble, and on the whole he was in the best of humours as the Christmas holidays approached, with his boys home from their school on Staten Island, his little girl growing lovelier and more accomplished, and his wife always charming and pretty; in their rare hours of uninterrupted companionship, piquant and diverting.  He had gone out with her constantly since Congress assembled, and had enjoyed the recreations of society after his summer of hard work and angry passions.  Everywhere he had a triumphal progress; men and women jostled each other about him, eager for a word, a smile, making him talk at length, whether he would or not.  The confidence in him was stronger than ever, but his enemies were the most powerful, collectively and individually, that had ever arrayed against a public man:  Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe, with the South behind them; the Livingstons and the Clinton faction in New York; Burr, with his smiling subterranean industry; the growing menace of the Republican party.  Pamphlets were circulating in the States warning voters against all who supported the Secretary of the Treasury.  It was one man against odds of appalling strength and resource; for by common consent both of friends and enemies Hamilton was the Federal party.  Did he fall, it must go; all blows were aimed at him alone.  Could any one man stand for ever an impregnable fortress before such a battery?  Many vowed that he would, for “he was more than human,” but others, as firm in their admiration, shrugged their shoulders.  The enemy were infuriated at the loss of the Vice-Presidency, for again Hamilton had been vindicated and Adams reflected.  What would be their next move?

Betsey knew that her husband had enemies, but the fact gave her little concern; she believed Hamilton to be a match for the allied forces of darkness.  She noticed when his hair was unpowdered that it was turning gray and had quite lost its boyish brightness; here and there work and care had drawn a line.  But he was handsomer, if anything, and of the scars on his spirit she knew nothing.  In the peace and pleasant distractions of his home his mercurial spirits leaped high above his anxieties and enmities, and he was as gay and happy, as interested in the manifold small interests of his family, as were he a private man of fortune, without an ambition, an enemy, or a care.  When most absorbed or irritated he never victimized his household by moods or tempers, not only because they were at his mercy, but because his nature spontaneously gave as it received; his friends had his best always, his enemies the very worst of which his intense passionate nature was capable.  Naturally his family adored him and studied his happiness.