Arriving in England, he at once opened negotiations with Lord Grenville, and in five months the new treaty was signed.

It provided for the payment to American citizens for losses of private shipping during the war; and over ten million dollars were paid to citizens of the United States under this agreement.

It fixed the boundary-line between the State of Maine and Canada; provided for the surrender of British posts in the Far West; that neither nation was to allow enlistments within its territory by a third nation at war with another; arranged for the surrender of fugitives charged with murder or forgery; and made definite terms as to various minor, but none the less important, questions.

A storm of opposition greeted the treaty when its terms were made known in America.  Jay was accused of bartering away the rights of America, and indignation meetings were held, because Jay had not insisted on apologies, and set sums of indemnity on this, that and the other.

Nevertheless, Washington ratified the treaty; and when Jay arrived in America there was a greeting fully as cordial and generous as that on the occasion of his other homecoming.

In fact, while he was absent, his friends had put him in nomination as Governor of New York.  His election to that office occurred just two days before he arrived, and when he landed his senses were mystified by hearing loud hurrahs for “Governor Jay.”

When his term of office expired he was re-elected, so he served as Governor, in all, six years.  The most important measure carried out during that time was the abolition of slavery in the State of New York, an act he had strenuously insisted on for twenty years, but which was not made possible until he had the power of Governor, and crowded the measure upon the Legislature.

Over a quarter of a century had passed since John Adams and John Jay had met on horseback out there on the New Jersey turnpike.  Their intimacy had been continuous and their labors as important as ever engrossed the minds of men, but in it all there was neither jealousy nor bickering.  They were friends.

At the close of Jay’s gubernatorial term, President Adams nominated him for the office of Chief Justice, made vacant by the resignation of Oliver Ellsworth.  The Senate unanimously confirmed the nomination, but Jay refused to accept the place.

For twenty-eight years he had served his country—­served it in its most trying hours.  He was not an old man in years, but the severity and anxiety of his labors had told on his health, and the elasticity of youth had gone from his brain forever.  He knew this, and feared the danger of continued exertion.  “My best work is done,” he said; “if I continue I may undo the good I have accomplished.  I have earned a rest.”

He retired to the ancestral farm at Bedford, Westchester County, to enjoy his vacation.  In a year his wife died, and the shock told on his already shattered nerves.