retired. A person in the store asked Rodgers if the bill was counterfeited. He replied in the negative. Why then did you not oblige the Gentleman by exchanging It,—because said Rodgers the poor Gentleman has lost his reason; but said the other, he appeared perfectly natural. That may be said Rodgers, he probably has his lucid intervals, but I have seen him walk before my door for half an hour, sometimes stopping, but always talking to himself, and If I had changed the money and he had lost It I might have received blame.—Pray ask my Hamilton if he can't guess who the Gentleman was. My Love to him, in which you participate. Adieu my Beloved Child.
Ever yours. Ph. Schuyler.
It would appear, from Hamilton's written productions, that what he did was always so thorough and systematic and he was so given to detail that the activity of his cerebration must have been intense and his power of attention and application quite out of the ordinary. He undoubtedly possessed that form of nervous instability common to many active public men and characterized by varying moods, which was sometimes expressed by alternating depression on the one hand and gayety on the other. His perception was quick, and, despite the criticism of Mr. Lodge, he possessed a lively imagination, and was also deeply sensitive, as is shown in many little ways in his family life. In his letters to his wife his emotional changes are most evident, and his varying playfulness and gayety are at times dominant.
He wrote to her from Philadelphia, November, 1798:
"I am always very happy my dear Eliza, when I can steal a few moments to sit down and write to you. You are my good genius; of that kind which the ancient philosophers called a familiar: and you know very well that I am glad to be in every way as familiar as possible with you. I have formed a sweet project, of which I will make you my confidant when I come to New York, and in which I rely that you will cooperate with me cheerfully.
You may guess and guess and guess again Your guessing will be still in vain.
But you will not be the less pleased when you come to understand and realize the scheme.
Adieu best of wives and best of mothers Heaven ever bless you & me in you.
A. H. And again:
"After I had sent my letter to you to the Post Office I received yours of the instant. My beloved chides me for not having written on my first arrival here. I hope my letter by Col. Burr will have removed her uneasiness as it informed her that ill health and fatigue had been the cause of my omission. Indeed, my Betsey, you need never fear a want of anxious attention to you, for you are now dearer than ever to me. Your happiness is the first and sweetest object of my wishes and cares. How can it be otherwise? You are all that is charming in my estimation and the more I see of your sex the more I become convinced of the judiciousness of my choice.
I hear your Heart ready to ask me, why instead of writing this I do not come myself to tell it you—Your father's pressing desire must be my excuse for reasons I shall explain when we meet. But my departure will not be postponed beyond Friday, that is, the day after tomorrow. I go in your father's shay to Poughkeepsie and thence with Benson in his shay to New York.
Monday at furthest I embrace my angel.
That Heaven may heap its blessings upon her and the dear pledges of our affection is the constant prayer of her
A. Hamilton.
Wednesday afternoon.
To Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton,
No. 57 Wall Street.
And still another letter, illustrating his tender solicitude is this:
I was made very happy, my beloved Betsey, by the receipt of your letter, informing me that one of mine had at length got to hand and that your spirits were recovered. I had suffered not a little at the idea that I must have appeared to you negligent, nor am I able to imagine what can have become of my other letters. There is certainly some very foul and abominable practice, which it will not be my fault, if I do not detect.
You said that you would not stay longer at Albany than twenty days which would bring it to the first of September. How delighted shall I be to receive you again to my bosom and to embrace with you my precious children! And yet, much as I long for this happy moment, my extreme anxiety for the restoration of your health will reconcile me to your staying longer where you are upon condition that you really receive benefit from it, and that your own mind is at rest. But I do not believe that I shall permit you to be so long absent from me another time.
Be cheerful, be happy my beloved, and if possible return to your husband with that sweet bloom on your looks which can never fail to delight him.
You must inform me beforehand when you set out. My intention is to meet you at Elizabeth Town. For I am unwilling to go through the bustle of another visit to New York so soon after my last.
Think of me—dream of me—and love me my Betsey as I do you.
Yrs. for ever, A. Hamilton.
Aug. 21,
Mrs. Hamilton.
There was at all times not a little sadness and sober sentiment mixed with concern as to her welfare.
The lightheartedness, which at times he manifested until the very end of his life appeared all the more striking when the stress and strain under which he labored are taken into consideration, and we bear in mind that he was constantly engaged with important public matters, some of the utmost seriousness. Most men would have been crushed by the malignant assaults of enemies who never ceased to lay traps and pitfalls, but these he easily avoided and laughed at because of his absolute consciousness of rectitude and his easy conscience.
There was something almost feminine in Hamilton's gentleness and concern for the comfort and happiness of other people. It is a matter of tradition that he endeared the soldiers of his own company to him by sharing their hardships, and providing them with necessities out of his own almost empty pocket. With his own children he was ever tender, entering into their sports, and forgetting all his serious cares for the moment. When New York and Philadelphia were crowded with refugees he would hunt up the poorest, and direct his wife to send food and little delicacies for the women and children. It had been his habit to travel upon the Circuit, as was the custom in those days with the different judges. One of these was Chancellor Kent, who told a story illustrating Hamilton's consideration and thoughtfulness. After a disagreeable, wintry ride of many miles they reached a comfortless inn. Kent had gone to bed early after a jolly evening which broke up prematurely as Kent was out of sorts. The night was cold, and the kindly nature of Hamilton was evidently disturbed by the indisposition of his friend. On his retiring he entered Judge Kent's room bearing an extra blanket, which he insisted on tucking carefully about the recumbent figure saying, "Sleep warm, little Judge, and get well. What should we do if anything should happen to you?"
He had a love of the fine arts and was something of a print collector and an amateur painter, for it appears he advised Mrs. Washington in regard to the paintings she bought; but his purse was evidently too small to gratify his own tastes in this direction. Not only does his expense book contain items showing the occasional modest purchase of a print/ but he left behind numerous wood and copper line engravings and etchings, that to-day would be very valuable. I distinctly remember a set of Mantegna's superb chiaro-oscuro of the "Triumph of Caesar," and a particularly fine Dürer which were in my father's possession; but the others have been scattered and can no longer be identified.
He had a rich voice, and rendered the songs of the day, among which was "The Drum," which he last sung at a meeting of the Cincinnati, a few days before the duel with Burr, which ran:
'Twas in the merry month of May
When bees from flower to flower did hum.
Soldiers through the town marched gay.
The village flew to the sound of the drum.
The clergyman sat in his study within
Devising