THE TRIUMPHAL PROGRESS.

I.

THE Congress in New York had been barely kept alive during the winter of 1788-89. Sometimes not half a dozen members remained in the city, and a quorum was rarely assembled. All thoughts and all hopes were centered in the new organization of affairs, which the splendid genius of Hamilton, the calm and judicial logic of Jay, and the invincible common sense of Madison, had at length made triumphant. For with whatever power and earnestness the claims of the Constitution had been asserted in different parts of the country, it was not difficult to perceive that the masterly expositions of the separate and common interests, in "The Federalist," reprinted in many of the larger towns, and entering into nearly all the spoken or written arguments for the Constitution, in every state, had been the great means of securing to the nation what the abilities and patriotism of her most illustrious citizens had conceived and evolved-this unapproachable model of a free and stable government.

As soon as the necessary majority of the states had transmitted to Congress their acceptance of the Constitution, an act was passed for the choice of a President and Vice President of the Republic; and Washington, who had commanded the army and presided in

the Convention, as if by the all-disposing election of the Sovereign Ruler of the world, was now, by the common sense, affection, and reverence, made vital by the same Divine Influence, called to the highest place in the completely organized nation. The sincerity of his nature was so conspicuous that no one doubted his avowed reluctance to be further engaged in affairs, though in the most honorable, dignified, and responsible office that had ever been created by a free people; and it was felt that no addition could be made to his glory, so that his acceptance of the Presidency must be a consequence only of his self-sacrificing love of country; but to this the whole people appealed, and when he consented, notwithstanding his advanced season of life, his increased fondness for agricultural amusements, his growing love of retirement, and decided predilection for the character of a private citizen, to hazard his former reputation, and encounter new fatigues and troubles, it was no longer questioned that the sublimest revolution in human history was successful; that the institutions of liberty were firmly established; that a new and beneficent power was inaugurated which would preserve for its authors, to the latest ages, such grateful respect as is due to the benefactors of mankind.

II.

THE first Congress under the Constitution came together very slowly. The day appointed for its meeting was the fourth of March, 1789, and at morning, noon and evening on that day there was firing of cannon and ringing of bells in the city; but only eight senators and thirteen representatives, not enough for a quorum in either house, made their appearance; and though circulars were repeatedly sent to the absent members it was near the end of the month before a sufficient number came in for one or the other branch to organize. This was partly owing to the desultory habits in every

thing connected with federal affairs which had grown up under the late administration, but more largely to the difficulties and uncertainties of the means of travelling, not only in the more inaccessible parts of the country but even in the most populous states and on the chief routes connecting the larger towns.

The Rev. Jeremy Belknap, the well known author of the History of New Hampshire, and several other works, which secured to him a high reputation among literary men in America at the close of the last century, had apprenticed one of his sons to Robert Aitkin, a printer of magazines and books, in Philadelphia. He sat out from his home, in Dover, to visit his son, and see the world, and the adventures he encountered illustrate in an interesting manner the delays and vexations of travel at that time. From Boston, on the twenty-seventh, he wrote back to his wife, "I am disappointed of my intended journey to Providence, by the means of a set of English factors, or something else, who, after I had engaged a passage for myself in the coach, went and hired the whole of it to themselves, and the base fellow of a coachman shut me out. Your brother is vexed on the occasion as much as myself. Another coach is expected in this evening, and I have laid in for a place in it; but as these stages do not go on any fixed day, but only as they find company, I may be detained here till Thursday: however, I have time enough before me-the whole month of October-at the end of which I hope to see you again." As the worthy pastor anticipated, or hoped rather, the stage-coach was again ready on Thursday morning, and he took a place in it for Providence; but the illness of a "lady passenger" compelled them to pass the night at Hatch's Tavern, in Attleborough, so that they did not reach Providence till the next day. On the following Tuesday he sailed in a packet for Newport, having been detained by squally weather, and in that place was compelled to wait, for a favorable wind

and a "freight of passengers," till Friday. "But before we left the harbor," he writes to Mrs. Belknap, "the wind came ahead, and we beat to windward (a species of sailing I never before was acquainted with, and never wish to be again*), till we found it impossible to weather Point Judith, and then we returned to port. Saturday morning, with three more passengers, seven in all, we sailed once more, with a fair wind, and had a very pleasant passage up the Sound, in a very swift sailing sloop, with every desirable accommodation for eating, drinking, and sleeping." Having passed four days in New York, where he enjoyed himself very much, on the afternoon of Thursday, the thirteenth of October, he crossed over to Paulus Hook, about sunset, to be ready to start for Philadelphia in the "New Flying Diligence" the next morning. "Between three and four o'clock," he writes, "we set off in the stage, rode nine miles, to Bergen Neck, and then crossed a ferry, which brought us to Woodbridge. Just before we reached the second ferry, we perceived the dawn of day, and when we had ridden two miles from it, the sun rose, so that we had ridden sixteen miles and crossed two ferries before sunrise, besides shifting horses twice. The third stage brought us to Brunswick, where we breakfasted. We here crossed the Raritan, in a scow, open at both ends, to receive and discharge the carriage, without unharnessing or dismounting; and the scow was pulled across the river by a rope. We passed through Princeton about noon, and got to Trenton to dinner; then passed the Delaware in another scow, which was navigated only by setting poles; drove thirty miles over a plain, level country, at a great rate, and arrived at Philadelphia just at sunset." He adds, "I sent for Josey to the inn where the stage put up, and the dear child was overjoyed, and shed tears at seeing me; they had heard of my ar

* In another letter, referring to this "beating to windward," he says "it made me downright seasick."