he was a general clerk, and attended to the loading and unloading of Mr. Cruger’s sloops; after a time he was made bookkeeper; it was not long before he was in charge of the counting-house.  He got back to his books in time—­for business in the Islands finishes at four o’clock—­and when he had learned all the Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and mathematics Hugh Knox could teach him, he spent his leisure hours with Pope, Plutarch, Shakespeare, Milton, Plato, and the few other English poets and works of Greek philosophers which Knox possessed, as well as several abridged histories of England and Europe.  These interested him more than aught else, purely literary as his proclivities were supposed to be, and he read and reread them, and longed for some huge work in twenty volumes which should reveal Europe to his searching vision.  But this was when he was fourteen, and had almost forgotten what the life of a mere boy was like.  Shortly after he entered Mr. Cruger’s store he wrote his famous letter to young Stevens.  It will bear republication here, and its stilted tone, so different from the concise simplicity of his business letters, was no doubt designed to produce an effect on the mind of his more fortunate friend.  He became a master of style, and before he was twenty; but there is small indication of the achievement in this letter, lovable as it is:—­

     ST. CROIX, November 11, 1769.

DEAR EDWARD, This serves to acknowledge the receipt of yours per Capt.  Lowndes, which was delivered me yesterday The truth of Capt.  Lightbowen and Lowndes’ information is now verified by the presence of your father and sister, for whose safe arrival I pray, and that they may convey that satisfaction to your soul, that must naturally flow from the sight of absent friends in health; and shall for news this way, refer you to them.

As to what you say, respecting your soon having the happiness of seeing us all, I wish for an accomplishment of your hopes, provided they are concomitant with your welfare, otherwise not; though doubt whether I shall be present or not, for to confess my weakness, Ned, my ambition is prevalent, so that I contemn the grovelling condition of a clerk, or the like, to which my fortune condemns me, and would willingly risk my life, though not my character, to exalt my station.  I am confident, Ned, that my youth excludes me from any hopes of immediate preferment, nor do I desire it; but I mean to prepare the way for futurity.  I’m no philosopher, you see, and may be justly said to build castles in the air; my folly makes me ashamed, and beg you’ll conceal it; yet, Neddy, we have seen such schemes successful, when the projector is constant.  I shall conclude by saying I wish there was a war.

     I am, Dear Edward, Yours

     ALEX.  HAMILTON.

     P.S.  I this moment received yours by William Smith, and pleased to
     see you give such close application to study.