course, simply smiling at the vituperation of Hamilton. Could those two
men have agreed, they would have been the greatest leaders any nation
ever had. Their hatred was as expensive as was that of Blaine and
Conklin in after years.

Every age must have a political scapegoat, one upon whose head is
placed symbolically the sins of the period, and after he is sent into
the wilderness of obscurity it becomes a social and political crime to
befriend him. There have been several such in our country's history, and
there will be others. Aaron Burr suffered more than any other simply
because the glory from which he departed was greater.

On March 2, 1805, Aaron Burr, vice-president of the United States,
and president of the senate, retired from the chair two days before
his term expired. He made a farewell address, which produced a greater
impression upon that body than any other words ever spoken there. Every
senator was weeping, and for a long time no one could leave his seat or
propose any business. It was a sight for the nation to look upon and
wonder. For fourteen years he had been one of the most conspicuous
members of that body.

Aaron Burr's ultimate ruin was wrought by his colonization experiment in
Louisiana. In popular opinion, there was something traitorous in that
unsuccessful venture of his. In 1805 Mr. Burr paid $50,000 for 400,000
acres of land which had been purchased of Spain in 1800, before it
passed to France and then to the United States in 1803. Of the motive of
Colonel Burr we must always be ignorant; that he was not guilty of any
crime in connection therewith we are certain, for the highest tribunal
of the land acquitted him. President Jefferson and the entire political
force of the administration were bent upon his conviction, but Chief