and to climb, per fas aut nefas, to the highest honours of the state, and as much higher as circumstances may permit."

The chief colours in this picture have not been borrowed from Burr's political opponents. They are plainly discernible, however ingeniously softened down, in the pages of his latest biographer and apologist, Mr. Parton. It was necessary to form some conception of his peculiar character, to explain the inevitable antagonism between him and Hamilton, which accounts for several transactions in the subsequent life of the latter, and which led in the sequel to its tragical and melancholy close.

Meanwhile, they worked together at the bar, and treated each other with a courtesy, which by some was mistaken for friendship. In 1784, Burr became a member of the Legislature of New York, to which Hamilton was not elected till 1786. But both were preparing for a wider and more important stage; and while Burr was studying those party tactics, which he hoped would raise him to the enjoyment of place and power, Hamilton was slowly elaborating the great principles, on which he desired to establish the fortunes and liberties of his country.

G

RADUALLY, and almost imperceptibly, the conviction had gained possession of every thoughtful mind in the Union, that the Confederacy could not be maintained on its old footing. It had, indeed, brought the war to a successful issue, but it had signally failed in accomplishing the purposes of peace. It had been unable to meet its engagements, or to fulfil the ordinary obligations of a government. Between 1781 and 1786, Congress had made requisitions on the States for more than ten millions of dollars, and less than two and a half millions had been received by the public treasury. The interest on the debt, the necessary establishments for the safety of navigation and commerce, the payment of civil officers at home, and of the diplomatic service abroad, all remained equally unprovided for. The Congress of 1786 declared, in

the most solemn manner, that the crisis had arrived when the people of the United States must decide whether they would preserve the public faith or not. Under the pressure of this appeal, the States seemed inclined to grant to Congress the power of levying a national impost, provided they could all agree to the arrangement; but New York held out obstinately against it, in spite of the efforts of Hamilton. The old difficulties with regard to the treaty were also still in existence; and when Mr. Adams, as Minister at the Court of St. James's, demanded why the British garrisons had not been withdrawn from the military posts in the West, he was assured that, whenever the United States should manifest a real determination to fulfil their part of the treaty, Great Britain would be ready to carry every article of it into complete effect. It was, moreover, found impossible to conclude treaties of commerce with foreign nations, as there was no security for their provisions being executed by the several States. In a word, the government of the Union was fast falling into contempt abroad and at home, and it became evident that, if it did not perish from its own internal weakness, the least accident or convulsion might sweep it entirely away.

At this conjuncture, a great danger arose in that very State which had taken the lead in the early days of the revolution. Massachusetts contained a population at no time submissive to authority, and now become more democratic than at any former period. It was oppressed with a load of debt, both public and private, which could only be met by considerable exertions and sacrifices, and its trade and manufactures had materially suffered by the war. The taxes were heavy, poverty was on the increase, and it soon became a popular doctrine with the more needy citizens, that all ought to share alike in the property which all had aided in defending. Then was seen one of those perilous moments in the history of republics, when the debtor turns his political power against the creditor, and the man who has nothing against the possessor of wealth. Assemblies were held, in which taxes were voted unnecessary, the courts of justice a grievance, and the law and its officers a nuisance. Armed mobs surrounded the court-houses to prevent the administration of justice, and in the autumn of 1786 the insurgents, regularly embodied, bade defiance to the control of the magistrates. A majority in the local House of Representatives seemed inclined to sympathize with the rebels,

and no efficient assistance in suppressing the insurrection could be expected from Congress. Fortunately for Massachusetts, her Governor was a man of sense and resolution, named James Bowdoin. He at once called out the militia, and took the requisite steps to put down the disturbances by force. But great alarm had been excited, not only in New England, but throughout the Union, and another example had been given of the extreme weakness of Congress in dealing with such emergencies. It was indeed acknowledged, that the Confederation, as such, had no power to interfere in the case of a State rebellion. "You talk," wrote Washington to a friend in Congress, "of employing influence to appease the present tumults in Massachusetts. I know not where that influence is to be found, or, if attainable, that it would be a proper remedy for the disorders. Influence is not government. Let us have a government, by which our lives, liberties, and properties will be secured, or let us know the worst at once."

It was in the midst of all this confusion and terror, that the genius of Hamilton at length saw the way to the accomplishment of his designs. Already, in 1785, the citizens of Virginia and Maryland had appointed commissioners to settle their conflicting rights with