Strong words, but they aren't mine. Rather they are Gouverneur Morris'. I knew Hamilton was a sort of proto-monarchist, but never would I have put it in such stark terms as did Morris. Bottom line according to Morris: Hamilton hated republican government because it was too democratic. This may help illustrate the inanity of the line "The Founders gave America republic not a democracy." There is certainly a kernel of truth in the line; but the problem is most folks who utter it don't know what they are talking about. The notion of republican government, rightly understood, is contained within the broader rubric of the concept of "liberal democracy." The Founders didn't like mob rule (neither do I), and as such wanted republican checks on the democratic process, one of which was limiting what the federal government could do with enumerated powers and the second, indissolubly linked to the first, was making certain individual rights antecedent to majority rule. Anyway here is Morris on Hamilton:
“Speaking of General Hamilton, he had little share in forming the Constitution. He disliked it, believing all republican government to be radically defective. He admired, nevertheless, the British constitution, which I consider as an aristocracy in fact, though a monarchy in name. General Hamilton hated republican government, because he confounded it with democratical government; and he detested the latter, because he believed it must end in despotism, and, be in the mean time, destructive to public morality. He believed that our administration would be enfeebled progressively at every new election, and become at last contemptible. He apprehended that the minions of faction would sell themselves and their country as soon as foreign powers should think it worth while to make the purchase. In short, his study of ancient history impressed on his mind a conviction that democracy, ending in tyranny, is, while it lasts, a cruel and oppressing domination. One marked trait of the General’s character was the pertinacious adherence to opinions he had once formed. From his situation in early life, it was not to be expected that he should have a fellow-feeling with those who idly supposed themselves to be the natural aristocracy of this country. In maturer age, his observation and good sense demonstrated that the materials for an aristocracy do not exist in America; wherefore, taking the people as a mass in which there was nothing of family, wealth, prejudice, or habit to raise a permanent mound of distinction—in which, moreover, the torrent of opinion had already washed away every mole-hill of respect raised by the industry of individual pride, he considered the fate of Rome in her meridian splendor, and that of Athens from the dawn to the sunset of her glory, as the portraits of our future fortune. Moreover, the extent of the United States led him to fear a defect of national sentiment. That which, at the time our Constitution was formed, had been generated by friendship in the Revolutionary War, was sinking under the pressure of State interest, commercial rivalry, the pursuit of wealth, and those thousand giddy projects which the intoxication of independence, an extravagant idea of our own importance, a profound ignorance of other nations, the prostration of public credit, and the paucity of our resources had engendered. He heartily assented, nevertheless, to the Constitution, because he considered it as a band which might hold us together for some time, and he knew that national sentiment is the off-spring of national existence. He trusted, moreover, that in the chances and changes of time we should be involved in some war which might strengthen our union and nerve the Executive. He was not (as some have supposed) so blind as not to see that the President could purchase power, and shelter himself from responsibility by sacrificing the rights and duties of his office at the shrine of influence; but he was too proud, and, let me add, too virtuous to recommend or tolerate measures eventually fatal to liberty and honor."