“I can do nothing to-night,” said Hamilton, smiling.  “I have had too much experience as a practical philosopher not to be happy while I can.”

“You have the gift of eternal youth.  What shall you do in this French matter, Alexander the Great?  All the world is waiting to know.  I should worry about you if I had time in this reeking town, where it is a wonder any man has health in him.  Oh, for the cane-fields of St. Croix!  But tell me, what is the policy to be—­strict neutrality?  Of course the President will agree with you; but fancy Jefferson, on his other side, burning with approval for the very excesses of the Revolution, since they typify democracy exultant.  And of course he is burrowing in the dark to increase his Republican party and inspire it with his fanatical enthusiasm for those inhuman wretches in France.  I believe he would plunge us into a war to-morrow.”

“No, he is an unwarlike creature.  He would like to trim, keep this country from being actually bespattered with blood, but coax the Administration to give the Revolutionists money and moral support.  He will do nothing of the sort, however.  The policy of this remote country is absolute, uncompromising, neutrality.  Let Europe keep her hands off this continent, and we will let her have her own way across the water.  The United States is the nucleus of a great nation that will spread indefinitely, and any further Europeanizing of our continent would be a menace which we can best avoid by observing from the beginning a strictly defensive policy.  To weaken it by an aggressive inroad into European politics would be the folly of schoolboys not fit to conduct a nation.  We must have the Floridas and Louisiana as soon as possible.  I have been urging the matter upon Washington’s attention for three years.  Spain is a constant source of annoyance, and the sooner we get her off the continent the better—­and before Great Britain sends her.  We need the Mississippi for navigation and must possess the territories that are the key to it.  How idiotic, therefore, to antagonize any old-world power!”

“You are long-headed!” exclaimed Stevens.  “Good heavens!  Listen to that!  The very lungs of Philadelphia are bellowing.  Our people must be mad to see in this hideous French Revolution any resemblance to their own dignified and orderly struggle for freedom.”

“It is so easy to drive men mad,” said Hamilton, contemptuously.  “Particularly when they are in constant and bitter opposition to the party in power, and possess a leader as subtle and venomous as Thomas Jefferson—­’Thomas,’ as he signed a letter to Washington the other day.  You may imagine the disgust of the Chief.”

“Not another word of politics this night!” exclaimed Mrs. Hamilton.  “I have not uttered a word for just twenty-five minutes.  Alexander, go and brew a beaker of negus.”

XXX

The next morning Hamilton was sitting in his office when the cards of James Monroe, F.A.  Muhlenberg, and A. Venable were brought in.