Who Wrote The Federalist Papers With Madison?

John Jay's role in shaping U.S. foreign policy is truly fascinating and often underrated. He was one of the key figures in crafting the foundations of American diplomacy after the Revolutionary War. To kick things off, as a member of the Continental Congress, Jay was involved in negotiating the Treaty of Paris in 1783, which officially ended the war with Great Britain. His diplomatic skills were invaluable in securing favorable terms for the fledgling nation, emphasizing his ability to navigate complex international relations. Later, as the first Chief Justice of the United States and a prominent federalist, Jay pushed for ratification of the Constitution, advocating a strong central government to manage foreign affairs effectively. His belief in a balanced and robust executive branch laid the groundwork for how the U.S. would conduct itself on the global stage. He also played a pivotal role in creating the Jay Treaty with Great Britain in 1794. While it was controversial and met with opposition, it was crucial in stabilizing U.S.-British relations, addressing issues like trade and the withdrawal of British troops from U.S. territories. This treaty ultimately helped secure American sovereignty and economic stability in the early years of the republic. Jay’s contributions significantly shaped the nation's foreign policy direction, marrying diplomacy with a keen awareness of geopolitical realities. Truly, his impact is woven into the fabric of early American diplomacy, showing how one individual can influence an entire nation's standing in the world. Whenever I delve into America's early history, I find it enlightening to consider figures like John Jay, whose strategic thinking and commitment to the cause of a strong, independent nation are often overshadowed by more flamboyant personalities.

John Jay was one of those historical figures whose impact rippled through the early years of the United States. One of his standout achievements was his role as a key negotiator of the Treaty of Paris in 1783, which officially ended the American Revolutionary War. He deftly navigated the complex diplomatic landscape alongside Benjamin Franklin and John Adams, successfully securing significant territorial gains for the fledgling nation. That's no small feat, considering how precarious and divided things were back then! Additionally, Jay served as the first Chief Justice of the United States from 1789 to 1795. This was a pivotal time in establishing a robust judicial framework for a brand-new country. He made significant contributions towards outlining the powers and responsibilities of the judiciary, laying down important precedents that are still relevant today. His leadership helped shape the role of the Supreme Court in interpreting the Constitution. As a co-author of 'The Federalist Papers', alongside Alexander Hamilton and James Madison, he championed the ratification of the U.S. Constitution. His essays focused on the importance of a strong central government, arguing for checks and balances that would prevent any one branch from becoming too powerful. This deepened our systems of governance and started a national dialogue about rights and representations. Jay was not just a contributor; he was an architect of the republic's foundations, truly a remarkable figure in American history!

Trying onyx specialty papers on my inkjet was honestly eye-opening — they behave pretty differently from plain office stock. The biggest thing I noticed right away is how the coating (or lack of it) changes everything: coated onyx sheets with a microporous or resin layer grab pigment inks quickly, giving sharp dots and surprisingly deep blacks, while uncoated dark onyx papers soak and spread dye inks, which kills detail. If you're chasing crisp lines or photographic detail, go for a coated onyx paper and use pigment-based inks when possible. Practical tip from my trials: always print test patches and let them dry fully before judging color. You’ll probably need to use a white underbase or printers that support white ink for anything lighter than neon — otherwise colors on dark onyx stock will look muted or invisible. Also tweak printer settings to a heavier paper profile and increase the platen gap if the sheet is thick; feeding problems and smudging are real if you don’t. I now do a small 2x2 test grid for every new onyx paper I pick up, and it saves me wasted sheets and headaches.

Okay, here’s the thing—I hunt for specialty paper like it’s treasure, and onyx papers are one of my favorite finds. If you want wholesale locally, start by visiting your nearest paper merchant or distributor: these are the places that carry large rolls and sheet packs for printers and designers. Search for 'paper merchant', 'paper distributor', or 'print supplies' on Google Maps and call to ask if they stock onyx or black specialty stocks and what their minimums are. Don’t skip commercial print shops and invitation studios. They often buy in bulk and either sell leftovers or point you to their supplier; sometimes they’ll let you pick up remnants or order a roll and let you split the cost. Also check local packaging suppliers, sign shops, and bookbinders—those folks work with specialty sheets all the time and can steer you toward brands like Neenah, Mohawk, or local mills that make deep black/onyx finishes. Finally, hunt down mills, paper brokers, and overrun outlets near you. Mills sometimes have seconds or end-of-roll sales with huge discounts and local pickup. Bring swatches, ask about GSM, coatings, and color matching, and be ready to negotiate on MOQ. If you’re patient and friendly, you’ll usually score better deals and a sample stack to play with—happy hunting, and tell me what you make with it!

I get a little giddy talking about paper science, so here's the long take: Onyx specialty papers can be compatible with laser printers, but it entirely depends on the specific Onyx product. Laser printers fuse toner to the substrate by melting powder onto the surface, so two big things matter — the paper weight and the surface/coating. Heavier stock (higher GSM) and textured or very glossy coatings can cause feeding problems, poor toner adhesion, or even smudging if the coating isn’t designed for toner. In practice I always check three things before loading a new Onyx sheet: the product spec sheet for a 'laser-compatible' note, the paper weight (most desktop lasers like up to 220–300 gsm through manual feed; larger office machines handle more), and whether it’s a synthetic or plastic-type substrate. If the paper is polyester or polypropylene, verify recommended fuser temperature, because plastics can warp, melt, or gunk up the fuser. When in doubt, run a single-sheet test through the manual feed at reduced coverage, let it cool flat, and check feed/jam behavior and adhesion. Also beware of stack offsetting — freshly printed glossy sheets can stick together. I’ve had great luck with matte and silk Onyx stocks on modern laser printers, but once I tried a high-gloss, untested specialty sheet and ended up calling support for a fuser cleaning. So read the datasheet, test a few, and if you’re doing a big run contact both the paper maker and your printer’s support to avoid a costly hiccup — it saved me from a ruined batch of invitations once.

I've handled a surprising number of specialty papers over the years and the short version is: sometimes yes, sometimes no. Onyx-colored or 'onyx' specialty papers can be made to archival, acid-free standards, but the label alone doesn’t guarantee long-term permanence. What matters is the paper's chemistry and the manufacturer's specs: look for terms like 'acid-free,' 'lignin-free,' 'pH neutral' or a reference to the permanence standard ISO 9706 (or ANSI/NISO Z39.48). If the product sheet mentions an alkaline reserve (calcium carbonate buffering) that's a very good sign for long-term storage. Conversely, many craft or colored papers are dyed and sized in ways that can introduce acids or optically active agents that accelerate degradation. So when I hunt for truly archival onyx paper I request the technical data sheet or certificate of permanence, check for third-party testing, and, if possible, sample it under the inks or media I’ll use. Otherwise I treat it as a beautiful craft paper rather than museum-grade material.

I get a little geeky about paper choices, so when I talk about onyx specialty papers I mean those deep-toned or heavily coated substrates that deliberately change how ink sits and looks. Onyx-type papers often have a lower paper whiteness or a dark base, which immediately reduces the apparent brightness and saturation of CMYK inks unless you compensate. That’s why printers use white underprints or special spot inks — without a white layer, colors look shaded, muted, or sometimes even washed out because the ink is partially transparent and relies on the paper’s base for light reflection. In practice that translates to workflow changes: you need an ICC profile made for that exact paper+ink+printer combo, careful soft-proofing, and probably different rendering intents. Coatings (gloss vs matte) also matter — gloss will boost perceived saturation and contrast, matte tends to flatten highlights and soften colors. Add in factors like dot gain, ink absorption rate, and optical brightening agents in the paper, and you’ve got a lot to manage. My go-to is always a small test suite: a calibrated spectrophotometer, a few proof prints, then tweak curves or saturation selectively rather than blasting global boosts, because skin tones and neutrals can quickly go wrong if you overcompensate.

I get pumped anytime someone asks about citing special collections, because it's one of those tiny academic skills that makes your paper look polished. If you're using manuscripts from the Lilly Library at Indiana University, the core bits I always include are: creator (if known), title or a short descriptive title in brackets if untitled, date, collection name, box and folder numbers (or manuscript number), repository name as 'Lilly Library, Indiana University', and the location (Bloomington, IN). If you used a digital surrogate, add the stable URL or finding aid and the date you accessed it. For illustration, here's a Chicago-style notes example I personally use when I want to be precise: John Doe, 'Letter to Jane Roe', 12 March 1923, Box 4, Folder 2, John Doe Papers, Lilly Library, Indiana University, Bloomington, IN. And a bibliography entry: John Doe Papers. Lilly Library, Indiana University, Bloomington, IN. If something is untitled I put a brief description in brackets like: [Draft of short story], 1947. Don't forget to check the manuscript's collection guide or 'finding aid' for the exact collection title and any manuscript or MSS numbers—the staff there often supply a preferred citation, which I always follow. Finally, I usually email the reference librarian a quick question if I'm unsure; they tend to be very helpful and will even tell you the preferred repository wording. Works great when you're racing the deadline and trying not to panic.