removed from New York to Philadelphia. New-Yorkers took the loss good-humoredly enough, if we may judge from the newspapers. "And so Congress is going to Philadelphia," said one. "Well, then there is an end of every thing: no more pavement; no more improvements of any kind." And the editor wound up a long, jocular article by telling the story of Charles II. and the Lord Mayor of London. "What did the king say?" asked his Lordship of a deputation of aldermen just returned from court. "He says, if we don't give him more money, he'll remove his court to Windsor." "Is that all?" cried the Mayor. "I thought his Majesty said he'd take the Thames away." New York, too, has found its Thames sufficient.

In November, then, of 1790, the secretary of state, after a delightful month at Monticello, was established in Philadelphia, living in "four rooms" of a spacious lodging-house on the pleasant outskirts of the city, not far from where Dr. Franklin flew his immortal kite. Near by, the secretary had a stable and coach-house with stalls for six horses, four of which were occupied; so that Madison, Monroe, and himself could enjoy a canter together along the delicious banks of the Schuylkill. It was oftener a walk than a ride. Once it was a "wade." "What say you," he writes to Madison, during a rainy week in April, 1791, "to taking a wade into the country at noon? It will be pleasant above head at least, and the party will finish by dining here." He was raised to the dignity of grandfather in February, 1791. "Your last two letters," he writes to his daughter, "gave me the greatest pleasure of any I ever received from you. The one announced that you were become a notable housewife; the other, a mother. The last is undoubtedly the keystone of the arch of matrimonial happiness, as the first is its daily aliment." Monticello waited for him to name the baby. "Anne" was his choice, because it was a name frequent in both families.

He had also the honor, at this time, of being a kind of martyr to his principles. It was Jefferson who had taken the lead in destroying the ancient system of primogeniture and entail in Virginia; and one of the first great heirs who suffered by the reform was his own son-in-law, Randolph. The father of the young husband, a brisk and social old gentleman of the old school, gave alarming symptoms of a second marriage. A girl in her teens was the object of his

choice, upon whom he proposed to make a settlement so lavish as to greatly abridge the inheritance of the young couple, as well as to throw a great part of the charge of their immediate settlement upon Mr. Jefferson. The letter which he wrote to his daughter on this occasion has been a thousand times admired, and will be admired again as often as it is read by a person in whose disposition there is any thing of magnanimity or tenderness. He told her that Colonel Randolph's marriage was a thing to have been expected; for, as he was a man whose amusements depended upon society, he could not live alone. The settlement upon the old man's bride might be neither prudent nor just, but he hoped it would not lessen their affection for him.

"If the lady," he continued, "has any thing difficult in her disposition, avoid what is rough, and attach her good qualities to you. Consider what are otherwise as a bad stop in your harpsichord, and do not touch on it, but make yourself happy with the good ones. Every human being, my dear, must thus be viewed, according to what he is good for; for none of us, no not one, is perfect; and, were we to love none who had imperfections, this world would be a desert for our love. All we can do is to make the best of our friends, love and cherish what is good in them, and keep out of the way of what is bad; but no more think of rejecting them for it, than of throwing away a piece of music for a flat passage or two. Your situation will require peculiar attentions and respects to both parties. Let no proof be too much for either your patience or acquiescence. Be you, my dear, the link of love, union, and peace for the whole family. The world will give you the more credit for it in proportion to the difficulty of the task, and your own happiness will be the greater as you perceive that you promote that of others. Former acquaintance and equality of age will render it the easier for you to cultivate and gain the love of the lady. The mother, too, becomes a very necessary object of attentions."

The marriage took place, and the settlements upon the bride were made. The young couple, in consequence, were much more curtailed in their resources than any one had expected. But the daughter of Jefferson remained, for thirty-five years, "the link of love, union, and peace for the whole family;" one member of which, John Randolph of Roanoke, estranged as he was from her father, toasted her as "the noblest woman in Virginia."

CHAPTER XLV.

NEGOTIATIONS WITH ENGLAND AFTER THE REVOLUTION.

PRESIDENT WASHINGTON's chief difficulties, after the public debt had been provided for, arose from the relations of the young republic with foreign powers. To weakness every thing is difficult. The necessity of keeping the peace was so manifest and so urgent, that the government could not meet the representatives of an unfriendly power on equal terms. The United States then signified merely a thin line of settlements along the Atlantic coast, open on the side of the ocean to a hostile fleet, and on the western boundary to the Indian tribes; Spain holding New Orleans, and Great Britain Canada. There was no army, no navy, no surplus revenue; and the country was but just recovering from the exhaustion and ravage of an eight-years' war. Happily, for one reason or another, from policy or sentiment, all Christendom wished well to the infant nation, excepting alone the king and ruling class of Great Britain. These could not forgive America the wrongs they had done her. There was, also, a small, but influential class in the United States, whose ancient fondness for the land of their ancestors had survived the war, and affected their judgment concerning questions in dispute between the two countries.

When General Washington came to the presidency in 1789, six years had elapsed since the peace. In the treaty of 1783, Great Britain had agreed to evacuate, without needless delay, every fortified place within the boundaries of the United States; and yet British garrisons still held seven American posts of little use to her, but of vital importance both to the honor and the safety of this country, posts the retention of which was a menace as well as an injury; for they kept open the great natural highways from Canada into the United States. The posts were Detroit, Mackinaw,

Oswego, Ogdensburg, Niagara, and two commanding places on Lake Champlain, called then Iron Point and Dutchman's Point. Independence was not complete while the English flag flew above these posts; nor were the frontiers safe. What could the Indians think of it? An Indian head is a small, poor thing, which cannot hold many ideas at a time. The Indians could see that familiar flag, and could recognize those red-coated soldiers as servants of the power to which they had been submissive for thirty years; but what could they know of President Washington and his government, distant a month's journey?

The fur-trade, too, which would have been important to an infant nation obliged to buy so much in Europe, was necessarily in the hands of men having access to those posts. John Jacob Astor was already a furrier in New York, doing business in 1790 at No. 40, Little Dock Street; but while the English held the posts, he could only tramp the eastern half of the State of New York, with his pack of gewgaws and paint upon his back, and gather furs from the friendly part of the Six Nations. A nice little business he had, it is true, but not sufficient to encourage him to think of building an Astor House or founding an Astor Library. Captain Cooper (father of Peter Cooper), who had a small hat-factory in the same street, and bought many a beaver-skin of this thriving furrier, would have had them cheaper if his neighbor could have ranged free over the western country. Another grievance was this: In evacuating New York, the British commander, in open disregard of the treaty, had permitted a large number of slaves to find passage in the fleet; three thousand of whom had been received on board under the eyes of the American commissioners appointed to prevent it, in spite of their remonstrance, and in consequence of an avowed order of the general in command.

To these substantial wrongs was added a neglect, an indifference, a silence, that looked like systematic discourtesy. Congress sent Mr. Adams to London, in 1785, to represent the new member of the family of nations near the court of one of the oldest. No English minister was sent to America till six years after. Mr. Adams, though he was received civilly enough, was kept haunting ante-chambers for three months before he began to get any certainty as to the reason why the posts were retained. When the king, in 1775, made war upon the colonies, suddenly suspending commercial intercourse,

America owed British merchants vast sums. The long-credit system had been so encouraged by the merchants, that the colonies were, perhaps, a year behindhand in their payments. The war lasted nearly eight years, and left the country exhausted and impoverished, with an alarming public debt to provide for, with a host of needy soldiers to appease, with the means of recuperation destroyed, with the commerce of the West Indies closed to them, and all the old commerce gone into other hands. But the treaty of peace had not been signed before the British creditors began to clamor for their debts, with interest! Eight years' interest added to the principal! Interest for the long period when every port was blockaded, and the productive industry of the country suspended by the power which owed protection to both! Not Grotius, nor Vattel, no, nor Puffendorf, nor all these learned pundits in accord, were ever able to convince New England merchants or Virginia planters that this was right. Every State passed laws protecting its citizens against ruinous suits to recover these debts. There was a general intention to pay the ancient principal; but the war interest no Whig could feel to be just.

Mr. Adams had at length the satisfaction of sitting face to face with Mr. Pitt, the heaven-born minister, aged twenty-six, still in the splendid dawn of his wonderful career. "What are the principal points to be discussed between us?" Mr. Pitt inquired. The American minister enumerated them. The posts, the negroes, and a treaty of commerce, were the chief. With regard to the negroes, Mr. Pitt was candid and explicit. Carrying them off, he said, was so clearly against the treaty, that, if Mr. Adams could produce the requisite proof of their number and value, the British government "must take measures to satisfy that demand." This was a good beginning. Another point, relating to certain captures of American vessels after the armistice of 1783, Mr. Pitt thought was "clear," and could be "easily settled." But those were all the concessions the English minister was disposed to make. "As to the posts," said he, "that is a point connected with some others, that, I think, must be settled at the same time." We can imagine the eager interest with which Mr. Adams asked what those points were. "The debts," was Mr. Pitt's reply: "several of the States have interfered against the treaty, and by acts of their legislatures have interposed impediments to the recovery of debts, against which there are great complaints in this country."