, was among her most distinguished
guests. In her home Livingston made those arrangements with Hamilton
and Jay, the Morrises and the Schuylers, that resulted in the
overthrow of Governor Clinton and his supporters in the convention
which ratified the Federal Constitution.

[Footnote 81: William Jay, _Life of John Jay_, Vol. 1, p. 400.]

But after Washington's inauguration, and Jay's appointment as chief
justice of the United States Supreme Court, the Chancellor had been as
intense, if not as violent an opponent of Federalism as Brockholst
Livingston. In their criticism of Jay's treaty these two cousins had
been especially bitter. The Chancellor attacked it as "Cato,"
Brockholst as "Decius;" the one spoke against it on the platform with
Aaron Burr, the other voluntarily joined the mob--if he did not
actually throw the stone--that wounded Hamilton; while the Chancellor
saw a copy of the treaty slowly destroyed at Bowling Green, Brockholst
coolly witnessed its distinguished author burned in effigy "in the
Fields." Relationship did not spare John Jay. Cousin and
brother-in-law had the "love frenzy for France," which finally
culminated in celebrating the ninth anniversary of the treaty of
alliance between France and America, at which Brockholst became
proudly eloquent, and the Chancellor most happy in the felicity of an
historic toast: "May the present coolness between France and America
produce, like the quarrels of lovers, a renewal of love."

Chancellor Livingston was now in the fifty-first year of his age, tall
and handsome, with an abundance of hair already turning gray, which
fell in ringlets over a square high forehead, lending a certain
dignity that made him appear as great in private life as he was when
gowned and throned in his important office.[82] In the estimation of
his contemporaries he was one of the most gifted men of his time, and
the judgment of a later age has not reversed their decision. He added
learning to great natural ability, and brilliancy to profound thought;
and although so deaf as to make communication with him difficult, he
nearly concealed the defect by his remarkable eloquence and
conversational gifts. Benjamin Franklin called him "the Cicero of
America." His love for the beautiful attracted Edmund Burke. It is
doubtful if he had a superior in the State in the knowledge of
history and the classics, and in the study of science Samuel L.
Mitchill alone stood above him. He lacked the creativ