ful aristocracy is impossible; the two are essential parts of one organic whole. A higher type of aristocracy, — an aristocracy open to every aspiring soul, without legal privilege, based on merit, assigning its highest honor to highest service, welcoming the lowly-born Lincoln as heartily as the patricianborn George Washington, -to produce such an aristocracy is the only way to produce a healthful, happy, useful democracy; and to help to establish this type of aristocracy throughout the world is the highest service which America can render to mankind, but this just this, was what John Adams wished

and worked for.

It is narrated that five days before that memorable fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence on which both he and Jefferson were to die, John Adams gave as a toast to be presented at the celebration to be held by his fellow-townsmen, the words INDEPENDENCE FOREVER. "In this brief sentiment," says his biographer, "Mr. Adams infused the essence of his whole character, and of his life-long labors for his country." But independence, however characteristic of the spirit and method, does not seem to me an adequate description of the "essence" of his labors. It is true that he maintained always an unusual degree of personal independence, and that he strove with all his might for "independent independence" in his country's behalf-but only as the necessary means to a certain end; and this end was the attainment of the "best character." The key to the politics of John Adams is the right and duty incumbent upon each citizen, each class, the people as a whole and mankind, of complete self-realization. To protect and assist the process by which this is accomplished, determines for him the form and functions of government and the aim of public policy. For the divine right to rule, whether claimed by king, parliament or party, he substituted the divine indefeasible right of the people to grow.

O

V

ALEXANDER HAMILTON 1

"2

1

NE CANNOT note," writes Professor Bryce, "the disappearance of this brilliant figure, to Europeans the most interesting in the early history of the Republic, without the remark that his countrymen seem to have never, either in his lifetime or afterwards, duly recognized his splendid gifts." Our failure to do justice to Hamilton is undeniable; and it is all the more conspicuous and deplorable because it relates not alone to his gifts, but also, and in an even higher degree, to his services. Of this fact the traditional ingratitude of republics is not a satisfying explanation. From Washington to Lincoln there are many names which prove that the American people can properly appreciate those who serve them. They have not done so in the case of Hamilton, because, in respect to matters of prime importance, he misunderstood them, and they in turn misunderstood and disagreed with him. But peoples, like individuals, feel gratitude towards those benefactors only whom they both understand and approve. The origin and in part the consequences of this misunderstanding and disagreement can be made clear by a brief review of Hamilton's political work.

The public life of Hamilton began in 1774. He was then a student at King's, now Columbia, College. On July sixth of that year he made an extempore address at a meeting of patriots. In the following December appeared the first of his

1 The Political Science Quarterly, Vol. V, March, 1890.

2 American Commonwealth, I, 641.

political writings, a pamphlet in reply to Tory criticism upon the Continental Congress; it was entitled A Full Vindication. A few weeks later a second and longer pamphlet was entitled The Farmer Refuted. Both were widely read and had a marked influence. The author, although probably under eighteen when he wrote the Vindication, was already a statesman. For grasp of principles, mastery of facts, clearness of statement and cogency of reasoning, these papers deserve high rank in the political literature of the Revolution. What, at that time, were the politics of this youth, who, up to 1772, had been an inhabitant of the West Indies? Had he, within the short space of two years, become an American? In arguing against the claim that Parliament had an unlimited right to legislate for the colonies, he wrote:

"All men have one common original: they participate in one common nature, and consequently have one common right. No reason can be advanced why one man should exercise any power or preeminence over his fellow-creatures more than another, unless they have voluntarily vested him with it. Since, then, Americans have not, by any act of theirs, empowered the British Parliament to make laws for them, it follows they can have no just authority to do it." 1 It is not the burden of a particular tax which the colonies resent:

"The Parliament claims a right to tax us in all cases whatsoever; its late acts are in virtue of that claim. How ridiculous, then, it is to affirm that we are quarrelling for the trifling sum of three pence a pound on tea, when it is evidently the principle against which we contend." 2

He even went so far as to claim that in the last resort the duties of the colonists were determined by their interests:

"As to the degrees and modifications of that subordination which is due to the parent state, these must depend upon other things besides the mere act of emigration. . . These must be ascertained by the spirit of the constitution of the mother country, by the compacts for the purpose of colonizing, and 1 Alexander Hamilton, Works, Ed. Lodge, I, 6.

2 Ibid., I, 7.

more especially by the law of nature, and that supreme law of every society its own happiness." 1

He frequently appealed to the natural rights of man. He tells his Tory opponents:

"The fundamental source of all your errors, sophisms, and false reasonings is a total ignorance of the natural rights of mankind. Were you once to become acquainted with these, you could never entertain a thought that all men are not, by nature, entitled to a parity of privileges."

1 2

And in a passage which contains an element of poetry as well as profound philosophy he wrote:

"The sacred rights of mankind are not to be rummaged for among old parchments or musty records. They are written, as with a sunbeam, in the whole volume of human nature, by the hand of divinity itself."

8

Such utterances seem to answer in the affirmative the question: Did Hamilton begin public life as an American? The sentiments are those of Otis and Henry. It is easy, however, to draw from them false inferences. The words have a democratic ring, but there is little that is peculiarly American in them. They express universal rather than American democratic principles. Most of them a Frenchman might have uttered. Moreover, the circumstances under which he wrote make it clear that when Hamilton spoke of the rights of man, he had in mind communities rather than individuals. His quarrel was not with the aristocratic institutions of Great Britain, but with her policy. The question whether the English colonies in America had individually the right of self-government in respect to taxation was then the formal ground of dispute; and this question is radically distinct from that other one in regard to form of government which the colonies were soon to face. To this latter question, the determination of which involved a decision for or against democracy, we have no proof that Hamilton at this time had given serious attention. If he had done so, it could have been only in a speculative way. It seems not unreasonable to assume that he 1 Works, I, 63. 2 Ibid., I, 83. 3 Ibid., I, 108.

accepted democratic ideas in so far as they sustained the claim of the colonists to the right of self-taxation, and, in possible contingencies, to independence; but he did not consciously commit himself further. We know that certain strongly marked traits of his character inclined him from the beginning not only against democracy, but also against resistance to Great Britain. In the advertisement of The Farmer Refuted, Hamilton significantly declares that he knows his opinions have not been influenced by prejudice, because he remembers the time when he had strong prejudices on the side he now opposes. His change of sentiment, he firmly believes, proceeded from the superior force of the arguments in favor of the American claims.1

Perhaps the most serious blemish of these early writings is an appeal to anti-papist feeling. But this was "a fault of youth"; throughout most of his later writings, and particularly in those which belong to his best period, from 1780 to 1797, Hamilton seeks to allay rather than to excite prejudice. Aside from their use in promoting resistance and preparing for revolution, and their significance as a revelation of character and talent, the chief interest of these papers consists in the fact that in every line they present the writer as in full sympathy with the people of his adopted country. This harmony, however, did not rest upon a durable basis; what made it for a short time possible, was a highly exceptional condition of public affairs in which those political interests wherein Hamilton and the people thought alike, overshadowed those wherein they could never agree. In 1774 the spirit of nationalism was dominant; local and particular interests were, for the time being, forgotten. But American particularism was not dead; it only slept; it was sure to awaken soon, and then the variance between Hamilton and the people must begin.

During the struggle for independence, Hamilton, although occupied with important military duties, found time to enter upon the task to which his life thereafter was to be devoted and, we may truly say, sacrificed the task, namely, of giv

1 Works, I, 53.