It had been his idea to send a special envoy to England to remonstrate with the British Government for her abominable oppressions and accumulating outrages, decide if possible upon a treaty with her which would soothe the excitement in the United States,—­as wild in the spring of 1794 as the Jacobin fever,—­and avert war.  It was the desire of Washington and the eminent Federalists that this mission be undertaken by Hamilton, for he had an especial faculty for getting what he wanted:  however obstinate he might be, his diplomacy was of the first order when he chose to use it.  But he believed that, having suggested the mission, he could not with propriety accept it, and that his services could be given more effectively in the Cabinet.  Moreover, the violent opposition which the proposal immediately raised among the Republicans, notably Randolph and Monroe,—­the latter so far transcending etiquette as to write to Washington, denouncing his Secretary of the Treasury,—­made it probable that his enemies would defeat his confirmation in the Senate.  He suggested the name of Chief Justice Jay; and after the usual bitter preliminaries, that exalted but not very forcible personage sailed for England in the latter part of April, 1794.  Negotiations were very slow, for Britain still felt for us a deep and sullen resentment, nourished by our Jacobin enthusiasms.  In January, however, news came that the treaty was concluded; and Hamilton, supposing that the matter was settled, resigned from the Cabinet.  It has been asserted that when he read this famous instrument, he characterized it as “an old woman’s treaty,” and it is very probable that he did.  Nevertheless, when, after a stormy passage through the Senate, it was launched upon the country, and, systematically manipulated by the practised arts of Jacobinism, carried the United States almost to the verge of civil war, Hamilton accepted the treaty as the best obtainable, and infinitely preferable to further troubles.  He took up his pen, having previously been stoned while attempting to speak in its defence, and in a series of papers signed “Catullus,” wrote as even he had not done since the days of “The Federalist.”  Their effect was felt at once; and as they continued to issue, and Hamilton’s sway over the public mind, his genius for moulding opinion, became with each more manifest, Jefferson, terrified and furious, wrote to Madison:—­

Hamilton is really a Colossus to the anti-Republican party.  Without numbers he is a host in himself.  They have got themselves into a defile where they might be finished; but too much security on the Republican part will give time to his talents and indefatigableness to extricate them.  We have had only middling performances to oppose him.  In truth when he comes forward there is no one but yourself can meet him....  For God’s sake take up your pen and give a fundamental reply to “Curtius” and “Camillus.”

But Madison had had enough of pen encounter with Hamilton.