Hamilton was not a conspicuous national figure during the four years which elapsed between the termination of his term in Congress and his appearance in the Federal Convention of 1787. He was working none the less earnestly and persistently, however, in favor of a stronger union. Movements towards this union took form almost simultaneously in different parts of the country under the impulse of a common need. The wise and thoughtful words of Washington, in his circular letter to the governor of each state on surrendering the command of the army (June 8, 1783), sank into many hearts, and did much to soften local prejudices against giving more power to the central government. The State of Virginia in December, 1783, ceded her northwestern territory to Congress, and granted a general impost. Significance was given to the act by the policy of the governor in communicating it to the executive authority of the other states, with the suggestion that they do likewise.

Jefferson was as cordial a supporter as Madison at that time of the project of a federal union. As a member of Congress, he prepared a plan for intercourse with the powers of Europe and the Barbary States, in which he described "the United States as one nation upon the principles of the federal constitution." Only two states—Rhode Island and Connecticut—voted to substitute weaker words in describing the union. It was voted by eight states to two (March 26, 1784) that in treaties and in all cases arising under them, the United States formed "one nation." The need for uniform rules for the regulation of commerce on the Potomac and the creation of roads and canals led to a number of conferences during the next two years between Virginia and Maryland, in one of which Washington played the part of referee. The legislature of Maryland finally took a step which shot a bright ray of light through the darkness surrounding the prospects of a permanent union. In a letter to the legislature of Virginia (December, 1785), it proposed that commissioners from all the states should be invited to meet and regulate the restrictions on commerce for the whole. Madison in Virginia gave cordial welcome to the invitation. He had already gone beyond the sentiment of his state in his zeal for union, but at his instigation a meeting of delegates from the states was called by Virginia at Annapolis, Md., for September, 1786.

Hamilton snatched at the opportunity which this invitation presented. Several of his friends were elected to the legislature of New York, and made the appointment of delegates to Annapolis their paramount object. In spite of much hostility, they succeeded in wresting authority from the legislature for a commission of five. Hamilton and Benson were the only two of these delegates who appeared at Annapolis. They found only four other states represented there. It was determined that the best that could be done by the little gathering was to urge upon the states a general convention, to meet at Philadelphia on the second Monday of the next May, "to consider the situation of the United States, and devise such further provisions as should appear necessary to render the constitution of the federal government adequate to the exigencies of the Union." Hamilton was not a member of the committee appointed to prepare the report, but it was his draft which, with some modifications to meet the sensibilities of the Virginians, was accepted and adopted.

A path was now blazed in which those who favored a stronger union could walk in harmony. Hamilton returned to New York with the intention of exerting his whole strength in behalf of the convention. He secured an election to the legislature, and at once took the lead of the members opposed to the separatist policy of Governor Clinton. He assailed the governor on the question of granting an impost to Congress in a practicable form, but was beaten by the solid vote of the party in power. He succeeded better with his resolution for the appointment of five delegates to the convention at Philadelphia. The Senate cut down the number to three, and two of them—Chief Justice Robert Yates and John Lansing, Jr.—were resolute supporters of the governor; but Hamilton carried the vital point that New York should be represented in the Federal Convention, and he was himself one of the delegates. It was not until late in February, 1787, that this action was taken,—little more than three months before the meeting of the convention,—and it was a few days later when formal approval was given to the project by the Federal Congress.

Hamilton, although one of the three delegates from New York to the convention, was embarrassed throughout the proceedings by the open hostility of his associates to any vigorous steps towards a strong union. He had definite ideas and strong feelings, however, and could not restrain himself from setting forth his views of what the new government should be. When Dickinson proposed that the convention should seek union through a revision of the old Articles of Confederation, Hamilton took the floor (June 18, 1787) to show how inadequate such a measure would be, and to set forth his own long matured views. He spoke for six hours, reviewing the history of the colonies before the Revolution, during its progress, and afterwards, the steps which had been taken towards union, and the imperative necessity which had been disclosed for a government possessing complete powers within its fields of action. He urged that the convention "adopt a solid plan without regard to temporary opinions." He laid bare unsparingly the defects of the confederacy, and insisted that the Articles of Confederation could not be amended with benefit except in the most radical manner. He opposed strongly the creation of a general government through a single body like Congress, because it would be without checks. He continued:—

"The general government must not only have a strong soul, but strong organs by which that soul is to operate. I despair that a republican form of government can remove the difficulties; I would hold it, however, unwise to change it. The best form of government, not attainable by us, but the model to which we should approach as near as possible, is the British constitution, praised by Necker as 'the only government which unites public strength with individual security.' Its house of lords is a most noble institution. It forms a permanent barrier against every pernicious innovation, whether attempted on the part of the crown or of the commons."

Hamilton made little concealment of his belief that the new government should not be exclusively republican. He said on June 26, 1787:—

"I acknowledge I do not think favorably of republican government; but I address my remarks to those who do, in order to prevail on them to tone their government as high as possible. I profess myself as zealous an advocate for liberty as any man whatever; and trust I shall be as willing a martyr to it, though I differ as to the form in which it is most eligible. Real liberty is neither found in despotism nor in the extremes of democracy, but in moderate governments. Those who mean to form a solid republic ought to proceed to the confines of another government. If we incline too much to democracy, we shall soon shoot into a monarchy."

In pursuance of these views, Hamilton urged that all branches of the new government should originate in the action of the people rather than of the states. In this respect he came closer to democracy than some of his opponents, but he proposed to give strength and permanence to the government by providing that the Senators and the executive should hold office during good behavior. He contended that by making the chief executive subject to impeachment, the term monarchy would not be applicable to his office. Another step differing radically from the Constitution as adopted, and showing the unswerving purpose of Hamilton to give supremacy to the central government, was the proposal that the executive of each state should be appointed by the general government and have a negative on all state legislation.

Hamilton had no expectation that his plan would be adopted. What he sought was to key the temper of the delegates up to a pitch which would bring them as nearly to his ideal of what the new government should be as was possible under the circumstances of the times. His long speech was attentively listened to, and even Yates reported that it "was praised by everybody, but supported by none." Notwithstanding these criticisms, the Constitution, as it was finally adopted, embodied many of the features of the project which was outlined by Hamilton. A legislative body of two houses, the choice of the executive by electors, a veto for the executive over legislative acts, the grant of the treaty-making power to the executive and the Senate, the confirmation of appointments by the Senate, the creation of a federal judiciary, and the provision that state laws in conflict with the Constitution should be void; these and many other features of the existing Constitution were parts of the plan of Hamilton.

It was not the open preference which Hamilton expressed for the British form of government which caused distrust of his plan. This was neither startling nor offensive to the great majority of those who heard him. Representative government under a republican head had not then been tried upon a large scale in any part of the world. Such small republics as existed in ancient times and in Italy had been confined within narrow areas, and had in many cases presented examples of factional strife which were far from encouraging to the friends of liberty. The Americans, in revolting against Great Britain, revolted only against what they considered the false interpretation given by King George to the guarantees of the English constitution, wrested by their ancestors from King John and his successors and consecrated by the Revolution of 1688. It was far from the thoughts of the most extreme, with perhaps an occasional personal exception, to cut loose from the traditions of English liberty, tear down the ancient structure, and build from the ground up, as was done a few years later in France by the maddened victims of the oppression of the nobles.

The sentiment most strongly opposed to the views of Hamilton was not democratic sentiment, in the strictest sense of the word, but devotion to local self-government. Hamilton was democratic enough to insist, in the discussion of the manner of choosing members of the House of Representatives, "It is essential to the democratic rights of the community that the first branch be directly elected by the people." What he desired was strength at the centre of authority, from whatever source that authority was derived. Coming from a little West Indian island where the traditions of parliamentary government had little footing, he attached no such importance as most of his associates to the reserved rights of the states. He was the man for the hour as the champion of a strong government, but it would not have been fortunate in some respects if his views had been adopted in their extreme form. There never was the slightest chance, as he doubtless knew, that they would be adopted by the descendants of English freemen who had founded self-governing states in accord with their own principles on the western shores of the Atlantic.

Having delivered a single strong speech, which pointed the way towards a strong union, Hamilton remained comparatively in the background during the remainder of the convention. It was inevitable, however, that he should make himself heard upon the proposal that the new government should have power "to emit bills on the credit of the United States." The power to issue unfunded paper had received his censure four years before, as one of the defects of the existing Articles of Confederation. He now opposed in the most emphatic manner the grant of authority to the new government to issue paper money in the form of its own notes, and to force them into circulation as a substitute for gold and silver coin. When Gouverneur Morris moved to strike out the power to issue bills on the credit of the United States and was supported by Madison, it was supposed that, if the motion prevailed, the power to issue government paper money and make it a legal tender for debts was guarded against for all time. The power was stricken out of the Constitution by a vote of nine states against two. Madison decided the vote of Virginia, and declared that "the pretext for a paper currency, and particularly for making the bills a tender, either for public or private debts, was cut off." It is not surprising that Mr. Bancroft, the jealous friend of the Constitution, in spite of the opening of the door at a later period by the Supreme Court of the United States, declared:

"This is the interpretation of the clause, made at the time of its adoption alike by its authors and by its opponents, accepted by all the statesmen of that age, not open to dispute because too clear for argument, and never disputed so long as any one man who took part in framing the Constitution remained alive."

Hamilton spoke on a few other occasions on subsidiary points connected with the draft of the Constitution, but it was only at the close of the convention that he again came resolutely to the front to exert a strong influence over his associates. When the final draft of the new frame of government had been completed, several delegates showed symptoms of refusing to affix their signatures. The great weight of Franklin was thrown into the scale to urge that the delegates go back to the people presenting the semblance of harmony instead of divisions. "I consent to this Constitution," he declared, "because I expect no better, and because I am not sure that it is not the best." Washington sought also to secure unanimity, and Hamilton declared:—

"I am anxious that every member should sign. A few by refusing may do infinite mischief. No man's ideas are more remote from the plan than my own are known to be; but is it possible to deliberate between anarchy and convulsion on the one side, and the chance of good to be expected from the plan on the other?"

Such words had some weight, but not enough to secure unanimity. All the states voted for the Constitution, but several delegates went on record against it, and Hamilton's two associates from New York were absent. It was this alone which saved New York from being recorded against the Constitution. Hamilton did not shrink from putting down his signature as the representative of his state. It was he who, in a bold, plain hand, inscribed on the great sheet of parchment the name of each state, as the delegations came forward, one after another, in geographical order and affixed their signatures to the precious document which was to found the government of the United States.

Hamilton returned to New York determined to use his utmost powers to secure the ratification of the Constitution as the best attainable means of averting the dangers of disunion. Although cordially supported by John Jay and Edward Livingston, Hamilton, in the fight for ratification in New York, was the natural leader. He found arrayed against him the whole influence of Governor Clinton and the dominant party in New York politics. Clinton was not absolutely opposed to union, but he attached to it so many reservations that for practical purposes he was an opponent of the new Constitution. The battle over ratification began on the question of the choice of delegates to the state convention. It was in this field that Hamilton fought the great fight with his pen which has left to posterity the fine exposition of the Constitution known as "The Federalist." A society was formed in the city of New York to resist the adoption of the Constitution, and articles soon began to appear in the local press criticising and opposing it.

Preparing a vigorous letter, while gliding down the Hudson, in reply to some of the first points of the opposition, Hamilton soon extended the project into a series of strong papers, which appeared twice a week for twenty weeks over the signature of "Publius." He secured the aid of Madison and Jay, who wrote some of the papers, but the project was Hamilton's, the majority of the papers were written by him, and to him has been justly given the credit of the well-knit and powerful arguments afterwards printed under the title of "The Federalist."

Taking up point by point the provisions of the new Constitution, Hamilton, by skillful argument, drawn from the closest abstract reasoning, the recent experience of the states, and the history of foreign countries, sought to show that the new Constitution was based upon sound principles of government, that it was well calculated to carry out these principles, and that its acceptance was practically the only course open to the American people to insure for themselves the benefits of liberty, prosperity, and peace. "The Federalist," although a purely political argument, has survived the occasion which called it forth, as one of the master documents of political writing. That it has a distinct place in literature is admitted by so severe a critic as Professor Barrett Wendell in his recent "Literary History of America." It is worth while quoting his acute literary judgment of its merits:—

"As a series of formal essays, the 'Federalist' groups itself roughly with the 'Tatler,' the 'Spectator,' and those numerous descendants of theirs which fill the literary records of eighteenth century England. It differs, however, from all these, in both substance and purpose. The 'Tatler,' the 'Spectator,' and their successors dealt with superficial matters in a spirit of literary amenity: the 'Federalist' deals in an argumentative spirit as earnest as that of any Puritan divine with political principles paramount in our history; and it is so wisely thoughtful that one may almost declare it the permanent basis of sound thinking concerning American constitutional law. Like all the educated writing of the eighteenth century, too, it is phrased with a rhythmical balance and urbane polish which give it claim to literary distinction."

While the written arguments of Hamilton in "The Federalist" have survived for a hundred years and been consulted by foreign students in the formation of new constitutions, a more severe task was imposed upon him at the meeting of the state convention called to consider the report of the convention at Philadelphia. It was in some respects the hardest task ever set with any hope of success before a parliamentary leader. Indeed, to the superficial observer there would have seemed to be no hope of success, when in the elections to the state convention the supporters of Governor Clinton chose forty-six delegates and left on the side of Hamilton only nineteen of the sixty-five members. But this statement of the case gives a somewhat darker color to the situation than the real facts. There was a strong and growing body of public sentiment for the Constitution in New York city and the counties along the Hudson, which even led to the suggestion that they should join the Union in any event and leave the northern counties to shift for themselves. It was generally recognized, moreover, that however strong the objections were to the Constitution, the choice lay practically between this Constitution and none,—between the proposed government and anarchy.

So strong was the sentiment that the Constitution must be accepted in some form, that its opponents in the state convention did not venture upon immediate rejection. Fortunately, their course in fighting for delay only tended to make it clearer that New York would stand alone if she failed to ratify. While the dream of independent sovereignty, or the leadership in a federation which should dictate terms to the surrounding states, was not without its attractions to the more ambitious of the opposition leaders, there was a darker side to the proposition which was much less attractive. Independence for New York meant a heavy burden of taxation for a separate army and navy, for guarding long frontiers on the east, north, and south, for supporting an extensive customs service along the same frontiers, for maintaining ministers at foreign courts and consuls in the leading cities of the world, and for meeting all the other expenses of a sovereign nation.

It was fortunate for the state and the country that the leader of the opposition to the Constitution in the New York convention was a man of a high order of ability, whose mind was open in an unusual degree to the influence of logical reasoning. This man was Melancthon Smith, who is accorded by Chancellor Kent, the great authority on American law, the credit of being noted "for his love of reading, tenacious memory, powerful intellect, and for the metaphysical and logical discussions of which he was a master." It is as much to his credit as that of Hamilton that he finally admitted that he had been convinced by Hamilton, and that he should vote for the Constitution. This result was only reached, however, after a long and sometimes acrimonious struggle, in which Hamilton was on his feet day after day explaining and defending each separate clause of the Constitution,—not only in its real meaning, but against all the distorted constructions put upon it by the most acute and jealous of critics.

But events had been fighting with Hamilton. State after state had ratified the new document, and news of their action had reached New York. Nine states, the number necessary to put the Constitution in force, were made up by the ratification of New Hampshire (June 21, 1788). Still New York hesitated, and Hamilton wrote to Madison: "Our chance of success depends upon you. Symptoms of relaxation in some of the leaders authorize a gleam of hope if you do well, but certainly I think not otherwise." Virginia justified his hopes by a majority of 89 against 79 for ratification (June 25, 1788). The news reached New York on July 3. The opposition there, though showing signs of relenting, was still stubborn. Conditional ratification, with a long string of amendments, was first proposed. Jay firmly insisted that the word "conditional" must be erased. Finally, on July 11, he proposed unconditional ratification. Melancthon Smith then proposed ratification with the right to withdraw if the amendments should not be accepted. Hamilton exposed the folly of such a project in a brilliant speech, which led Smith to admit that conditional ratification was an absurdity. Other similar proposals were brought forward, but they were evidently equivalent to rejection by indirection, which would have left New York out of the new Union.

Finally, Samuel Jones, another broad-minded member of the opposition, proposed ratification without conditions, but "in full confidence" that Congress would adopt all needed amendments. With the support of Smith, this form of ratification was carried by the slender majority of three votes (July 26, 1788). By this narrow margin it was decided that New York should form a part of the Union, and that the great experiment in representative government should not begin with the two halves of the country separated by a hostile power, commanding the greatest seaport of the colonies.

Hamilton thus played an important part in winning the first great battle for the Constitution. Ratification was only one of many steps which remained to be taken before the new government was in working order. Hamilton hurried back to the Federal Congress, and carried an ordinance fixing the dates and the place for putting the new government in operation. When he returned to New York, he was beaten for reËlection to Congress, and Governor Clinton and his party retained such a firm grip upon the legislature that a deadlock occurred between the Federalist House and the opposition Senate. New York was unrepresented in the first electoral college, and had no senators at the meeting of the First Congress. The state elections which followed resulted in defeat for the Federalists in the election of the governor, but they carried the legislature and elected two senators,—General Schuyler and Rufus King. King had recently come from Massachusetts, and Hamilton's insistence that he should be chosen caused a breach with the Livingstons, which contributed to the defeat of Schuyler two years later and the election of Aaron Burr. Hamilton's course in this matter was one of many cases in which he showed that he was not an astute politician, nor an adept at dealing with men. His highest qualities were those more distinctly intellectual, which led him to drive straight towards a desired object, with little patience for smaller men or the obstacles which stood in his way.