the Vice-President—great vindicator and final negotiator of our national independence—whose soul, flaming with freedom, broke forth in the early declaration, that "consenting to slavery is a sacrilegious breach of trust," and whose immitigable hostility to this wrong has been made immortal in his descendants. There, also, was a companion in arms and attached friend, the yet youthful Hamilton, who, as a member of the Abolition Society of New York, had only recently united in a solemn petition for those who, "though free by the laws of God, are held in slavery by the laws of the State." There, too, was a noble spirit, of spotless virtue, and commanding influence, the ornament of human nature, who, like the sun, ever held an unerring course, John Jay. Filling the important post of Minister of Foreign Affairs under the Confederation, he found time to organize the Abolition Society of New York, and to act as its President, until, by the nomination of Washington, he became Chief-Justice of the United States. In his sight slavery was an "iniquity"—"a sin of crimson dye," against which ministers of the gospel should testify, and which the Government should seek in every way to abolish. "Were I in the legislature," he wrote, "I would present a bill for the purpose with great care, and I would never cease moving it till it became a law or I ceased to be a member. Till America comes into this measure, her prayers to Heaven will be impious." By such
