Judge M’Kean, in common with his fellow patriots, heroes and sages, then sat down under his own fig tree, to enjoy the full fruition of his long and faithful labours in the cause of equal rights. He continued to discharge the important duties of chief justice until 1799, illuminating his judicial path with profound learning, impartial decision, and sound discretion. His legal opinions, based as they generally are, upon the firm pillars of equal justice, strict equity, and correct law; given, as they were, when our form of government was changing, the laws unsettled, our state constitution but just formed, and the federal constitution bursting from embryo—are monuments of fame, enduring as social order, revered, respected, and canonized.
He was a member of the convention that formed the constitution of Pennsylvania adopted in 1790, and exercised an influence in that body that was of the most salutary kind. In 1799 he was elected governor of the key-stone state, and contributed largely in adding new strength and beauty to the grand arch of our union. For nine successive years he wielded the destinies of the land of Penn, commencing at a period when the mountain waves of party spirit were rolling over the United States with a fury before unknown. But amidst the foaming and conflicting elements, Governor M’Kean stood at the helm of state, calm as a summer morning, firm as a mountain of granite, and guided his noble ship through the raging storm, unscathed and unharmed. His annual messages to the legislature for elegance and force of language, correct and liberal views of policy, and a luminous exposition of law and rules of government, stand unrivalled and unsurpassed. The clamours of his political enemies he passed by as the idle wind; the suggestions of his friends he scanned with the most rigid scrutiny. Neither flattery or censure could drive him from the strong citadel of his own matured judgment. The good of his country and the glory of the American character, formed the grand basis of his actions.
The fawning sycophant and the brawling demagogue, he spurned with contempt. By honest means alone he desired the advancement of the party that had elevated him. Open and avowed principles, fully proclaimed and strictly carried out, were by him submitted to the people, frankly and cordially, without prevarication or disguise. He was a politician of the old school, when each party had plain and visible landmarks, distinctive names, and fixed principles. Political chemists had not then introduced the modern process of amalgamation, producing a heterogenous mass, that defies the power of analyzation, scientific arrangement, or classical separation.