The Florida Purchase was a second instance of bringing national prestige to the Union by the party originally afraid of giving it too much power. The action brought in its train as many embarrassing questions and as many demands for the fostering care of government as did the Louisiana Purchase. Yet precedent made the questions easier to answer in favour of centralisation and made the steps easier to take by the scrupulous Jeffersonians.

It is worthy of notice that the people of the Floridas were promised, in the annexation treaty of 1819, incorporation into the Union "as soon as may be consistent with the principles of the Federal Constitution," no time being specified. The Louisianians had found, as stated heretofore, that the phrase "as soon as possible" in the treaty of 1803 was capable of a very loose interpretation at the hands of their new sovereign. They had to wait nine years before the first portion was admitted to statehood. Perhaps to avoid a deluge of petitions and protests, such as came from the inhabitants of the Louisiana Purchase when given a territorial standing, John Quincy Adams may have invented the new phrase "as soon as consistent." Under this provision, portions of the Florida Purchase were added to adjacent States and the residue compelled to wait twenty-five years before statehood was given to it. The rights of man and citizenship in the State had again been temporarily lost sight of by the party of which these were basic principles.

Having been converted into territories, the additions to domain came directly under the care of the National Government. Bound by national honour as well as by a regard for the sacredness of statehood to bestow upon this public land such protection and such improvements as might encourage migration to it, and thus hasten the time of full rights for its people, the Republicans might yet have pursued a parsimonious policy, if increasing migration to the United States had not impelled them to action to provide homes for the multitude. No such influx from the Old World had been seen as followed the close of the Napoleonic wars. It was small compared with the full tide of migration, which set in about 1845. But it seemed marvellous at the time. Fifteen hundred were counted in some weeks, mostly Irish and English, with a sprinkling of French and German. No record was kept of the number of arrivals until 1820, and statistics are simply approximate.

Viewing the Old World as again under the curse of monarchy, and the new-comers as refugees from oppression, the Republican party found itself ready to arrange for the easiest possible disposal of the public lands. "Let them come," said one writer. "Good and wholesome laws with the avenues to wealth and independence opened to honest industry will tame even Mr. Peel's 'Untamably ferocious' Irishmen! as well as suppress English mobs crying for employment and bread, without the use of the bayonet." Descriptions of the economic unrest in Europe following the close of the Napoleonic wars were fully circulated in American newspapers. The number of bankruptcies, the idle custom-house clerks, the labouring poor applying at the different sessions for certificates to migrate to America, the British vessels anticipating desertions by sailing for the New World with double crews, the steps taken by the British Government to prevent artisans from leaving, the ruse of coming through Canada to escape question and detention—all this was delightful reading for the American public.

Many of the emigrants passed the Allegheny barrier, notwithstanding the hardships of travel, to make homes in the new States and Territories of the West and South-west. Birkbeck and his colony of Englishmen came to southern Illinois. The Rappites planted the community of New Harmony on the Wabash in Indiana. Congress granted land to a colony of refugees in Alabama. Numerous towns were laid out on the upper Mississippi and the Missouri in the Louisiana Purchase. Protecting garrisons were established far up the Missouri River and at the Falls of St. Anthony, near the headwaters of the Mississippi, "two thousand miles from the sea." Buffalo and Erie, names not to be found upon the map before the war, were now busy ports with a thriving lake commerce. Semi-weekly posts were carried to Detroit, Green Bay, and far Michilimackinac.

These evidences of the vast extent of the national domain excited both pride and fear. Unless the distant parts could be more closely cemented, the days of Western unrest and foreign intrigue might come again. The demand for government aid to public improvements sprang up anew. Colonel Johnson, attempting to take a small fleet of steamboats up the Missouri to the Yellowstone in 1819 to open a new route for trade with China by way of the Columbia River, was hindered by sand-bars and snags, or "planters." Various improvements in rivers and the construction of canals undertaken by different States were reported in Congress. Government aid in the shape of subscriptions to stock was contemplated in some cases. Gallatin's report of 1809, recommending the expenditure of twenty million dollars on public works, was reprinted. The Cumberland Road was given over three hundred thousand dollars in a single appropriation. Two and a half million dollars were spent annually on the navy. Various arguments were used to harmonise these expenditures with the economic principles of the Republicans. Twenty ships-of-the-line could be built, it was said, for much less than the cost of drafting the militia and the losses in a single State during one year of the recent war. Ten thousand seamen afloat would be of more service than fifty thousand militia in preventing "a foreign enemy ever again polluting the shores of the United States." The only danger to this policy would be in putting such a power into the hands of the Chief Executive; but this could be averted, it was declared, by the ballot. National feeling ran high, as it usually does following a war, over both national defence and home development.

In the midst of this great impetus toward nationality came a sudden revelation of the sectional discord which it was hoped had been laid for ever. A vast extent of territory has its advantages in wealth and population; but it also has its dangers in the differences of climate, products, and labour thereby engendered. The United States could not hope to be free from this menace, common to all governments with extensive domains, until time had proved the necessity for union, and use had made its burdens appear lighter. Sectional jealousies had been quieted in the Convention of 1787 by establishing "balances" in representation and taxation. It was unfortunate to recognise the existence of sections and to perpetuate them in this manner; but compromise was the only way possible at the time.



Those who believed that compromises were curatives rather than means of temporary relief as we now see them, must have found hope for the future in the number of compromises in the convention caused by slavery. As the years sped by under the Constitution, and the menace failed to renew its formidable shape, these hopes must have brightened into a belief that the spectre was laid for ever. The expiration of the twenty years demanded by South Carolina and Georgia in which to get their supply of slave labour from Africa drew nigh, and brought forth a prohibitory law to take effect the first day of the year 1808. The newer Gulf States in vain demanded an extension of the open door to place them upon an equal footing with the older States. Yet the law was never enforced, and it was always possible to get a fresh supply of slaves even to the time of the Civil War. The blame must be shared equally by the planters of the Gulf States, who purchased the new slaves, and by the ship-owners of the free States, whose vessels brought them from Africa for the profit of the trade. Cupidity will be found, in the last analysis, to be at the bottom of much of the law-breaking spirit so unfortunately characteristic of the American people.

The Friends kept up an unceasing petition to Congress to ameliorate the condition of the slaves or to emancipate them. It was said by some of the British advocates of emancipation, who began to let their voices be heard in the States, that the destruction of the public buildings at Washington during the War of 1812 was a judgment of God upon a people who permitted a slave market almost within the shadow of the Capitol. Slavery was always at base an economic question and was now awaiting some national economic issue before it would manifest its ugly self. The emancipation plans which had been adopted by the Northern States were emphasising slavery as a sectional issue. It would make even more difficult the task of balancing the two sections. So rapidly had public sentiment accepted the inevitable in the matter of sections, that by 1820 it was easy to repeat the fearful phrase, "preserving the balance between the two sections."

It had been possible to preserve this balance in the Senate, where State representation is equal, by admitting a Northern and a Southern State contemporaneously. Thus two Senators from each section were created. In the House of Representatives, where strength depends upon the distribution of population, no such balance could be maintained. The attractiveness of the back lands as they were opened to settlement, the ease with which farms could be secured from the public domain, the rapid development of water-power, and the increasing immigration from Europe, caused a rapid growth of population in the trans-Alleghenian region. In 1800, only one settler had crossed the mountains to fourteen remaining on the coast-plain. Ten years later one had crossed for every six remaining behind, and in 1820 the proportion was one to four. There had been some alarm manifest in the older States in earlier times, because the power and prestige which they had enjoyed must eventually be reduced if not lost through the rapidly growing West. But whatever danger of this nature was realised became of secondary importance by 1820 to the larger question of the unequal distribution of the migrants in the various parts of the West. Between 1810 and 1820, for instance, Ohio had increased in population 151.9 per cent. and Tennessee only 61.5 per cent. For every 319 people who sought homes in Illinois during that period, only 87 had settled in Mississippi. The two States had been admitted almost simultaneously and had equal attractions. Why should the one gain more population and have more political strength than the other? Although statistics for the sparsely populated territories were not so available, there was no doubt that the Northern section everywhere was being settled more rapidly than the Southern.

Under such conditions, the maintenance of the senatorial balance of States between the sections would be impossible. Portions of a Northern territory would be applying for admission before population had reached the required number in any Southern part. An additional alarm was felt because every Northern State admitted thus far, having been formed out of the North-west Territory, had incorporated in its constitution the provision of the Ordinance of 1787 that "neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, otherwise than in the punishment of crimes," should ever be permitted. That kept the door of the Northern States closed against the Southern slavery system. Although such action might be held as mandatory on every State created out of the North-west Territory, it could not be so held in States made out of the Louisiana Purchase. Indeed, the treaty of 1803 promised the inhabitants "the free enjoyment of their liberty; property, and religion." So strongly was the Southern element entrenched in national affairs, and so slightly had the ethical views of the Pennsylvania Friends affected the country at large, that the word "property" was tacitly allowed to cover slaves. Louisiana, the first trans-Mississippi State, was admitted with a constitution not prohibiting, and hence permitting slavery. The act changing the Territory of Louisiana, which covered the remainder of the Louisiana Purchase, into the Missouri Territory, passed at the same time, left the Territory open to slavery in the same manner. Slaves could be legally held on the west of the Mississippi as far north as Canada.

This Territory of Missouri, extending from the southern boundary of the State of Arkansas to the Canadian line, received its share of Western migrants. It embraced the heart of the continent. It extended indefinitely up the Missouri River and the Yellowstone, where its traders and trappers came into competition with the outposts of the Hudson Bay and the North-west fur-trading companies, under the protection of a vast system of British troops and outposts. Still farther to the north-west the Americans found the Russian Company, under protection of its Government, taking furs presumably from the Louisiana country to supply Euro-Asia. It is no wonder that American traders began to demand similar protection from their Government. Other industries arising from the rapidly increasing population also demanded attention.

When the United States took possession of the Louisiana country, the upper portion contained probably not more than six thousand inhabitants, about one thousand being slaves. In 1810, it had twenty thousand. A decade later, as the Territory of Missouri, it had grown to four times that number and was ready for division and statehood. A petition reached Congress in 1819, setting forth its claims. It was understood that the new State would centre about St. Louis, a thriving city of ten thousand inhabitants, situated just below the mouth of the Missouri, and that both the Northern and Southern extremes of the vast territory would be cut off. To make a proper line of demarcation, the Kentucky-Tennessee boundary of thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes was extended across the Mississippi; and the "Arkansas country," which lay to the south of it, was erected into a separate territory and given that name. A northern boundary for the proposed state was projected westwardly from near the mouth of the Des Moines River.

An attempt was made by a few radicals to apply the anti-slavery clause from the North-west Territory Ordinance of 1787 to the Territory of Arkansas; but it would so manifestly destroy the balance between the sections that the project was abandoned. In time Arkansas would become a slave State. It was presumed by many Northern statesmen that the boundary line between Arkansas and Missouri would thus be accepted as a continuation of the line between the two sections, which had been extended across the continent with the movement of the people. It was begun when Pennsylvania and all States north adopted some form of emancipation for their slaves, and neither Maryland nor any State south thought best to do so. Hence the boundary line between the two States, run by the geographers, Mason and Dixon, in early days, became the first sectional line. The Ohio River was made a prolongation of the unfortunate line through the ordinance creating the North-west Territory, which forbade slavery north of the river, and the ordinance, for the South-western Territory, which forbade interference with slavery south of the river. The westward movement of population now made it necessary to extend the line across the Louisiana Purchase.

It had been impossible to decide the slavery question when the Territory of Missouri was created, as was done for the land north of the Ohio, because it extended over so many degrees of latitude, covering land both favourable and hostile by climate to the system. It was thought that about one-fifth of the population was composed of slaves in 1820; but they were mostly in Arkansas Territory. From a geographical standpoint, the southern boundary of the proposed State was within half a degree of being a direct continuation of the Ohio River at its mouth. It seemed to the Northern people a most reasonable line to establish between the sections. But the Ohio pursues a south-west instead of a due west course. By following it, the South had lost two and a half degrees of territory. The Mason and Dixon line is about thirty-nine degrees and thirty minutes north latitude, while the mouth of the Ohio is at thirty-seven degrees. By extending the interstate boundary line nearest the mouth—viz., that between Kentucky and Tennessee at thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes—the slavery section would lose a strip across the Louisiana Purchase as wide as the State of Kentucky at its greatest width. Thus even the natural features of the continent seemed to cry out against drawing sectional lines for a united people. For this reason the Southern element demanded that the continuation of the line between slavery and free soil should be drawn along the northern boundary of the proposed State, which was about one degree north of the old Mason and Dixon line.

The balance of power between the sections in the Senate, which had been maintained without difficulty thus far, was seriously threatened by this Missouri question. At the beginning of the Constitutional Union seven States were clearly destined by their climate and occupation for free labour, leaving six for slave labour. The latter thus lacked two senatorial votes of equalling the North from the beginning. The admission of Vermont and Kentucky, a Northern and a Southern State, maintained the ratio. It was continued farther by the admission of Tennessee and Ohio, Louisiana and Indiana, Mississippi and Illinois. This balance had been thus far an accident, depending upon the time when a portion of land had sufficient population for statehood; but it had become such a tacit understanding, that the admission of Alabama in 1819, it was said, made the sections exactly equal in the number of Senators. At almost the same time Missouri and Maine were ready. The latter because of climate must undoubtedly be admitted as a free State. The former must be given to slavery if the balance between the two sections was to be maintained. But the extension of the line of thirty-six thirty would make Missouri a free State. The location of States heretofore admitted had been so indisputably upon the one side or the other of the slavery-freedom line that uncertainty was impossible. Missouri, as has been shown, lay right athwart the extension.

There had been comparatively little anti-slavery agitation thus far, being confined to attacks upon the slave trade and an occasional petition from the Friends; yet the sentiment that slavery was an economic evil was firmly established in the overstocked border slave States, and that it was both an economic and moral evil was believed by a growing number in the Northern States. The "Lower South," or Gulf States, were thus left as the guardians of a system which the increasing cultivation of cotton in that region made unusually profitable and, as they thought, indispensable. Missouri lay far to the north of them, but the maintenance of political power in the Union was essential to their future if they read aright the growing hostile sentiment of the North. Immediate or gradual emancipation had been provided by every old State in the North, and slavery had been prohibited by the constitutions of the new Northern States. Feeling the approval of a good conscience, it was probable that the North would eventually demand a kindred movement in the South. There is no reformer likely to be so intolerant as the one who has left off what he considers a bad habit.

The slavery system had been so thoroughly rooted in colonial times and so freely recognised and protected in the Constitution, that few as yet contemplated interfering with it in any State where it already existed. Home rule and individual rights were too sacred for that. Majority rule had not yet made sufficient headway against individualism. But the Union had a kind of prenatal control which it could exercise over States created from Territories. Here was an opportunity to exercise it. An early attempt was made in Congress on the part of those hostile to the extension of slavery to make Missouri a free State by prohibiting "the further introduction of slavery or involuntary servitude." It was met by a counter amendment from the pro-slavery people jointly admitting Maine and Missouri with no such restrictions. This would evidently throw Missouri open to slavery.

The ensuing debates in Congress, covering parts of two sessions, opened all the sectional dissensions, showed how weak were the ties of unionism thus far developed, cut sharp lines across political parties, and shifted the old East and West sectional danger to North and South. The phrase "Mason and Dixon line" was used to express the sectional demarcation, transformed to that use, it is said, by John Randolph. Recrimination and abuse were common. Northern speakers drew insulting comparisons between the population, wealth, and prosperity of the free and slave States. They attributed the difference to the blight of slavery. Southern speakers explained that slavery was a thing of which a non-resident could not judge properly; that what appeared to an outsider as a lack of prosperity was the enjoyment of life by a people not devoted to the sordid aspects of existence; that slavery was a matter for home rule and did not concern the other half of the Union. The Northern contingent replied that slavery was a menace to free labour and that their devotion to all parts of the Union, as well as their right of self-preservation, warranted their interference. Then the Southern speakers taunted them with Shays's Rebellion, the whiskey insurrection, and the Hartford Convention, as proofs of their devotion to the Union. The people of New York were reproached with wishing to deprive Southern people of their slave property, although they themselves still held more than ten thousand slaves and held them under protection of the State laws. One Southern speaker came very near the truth when he predicted that the census for 1820 would show fully twenty thousand slaves still held in bondage in the Northern States. A long discussion arose over the number of troops each section had furnished to the Revolutionary War and upon the number of distinguished men bred in each section. The Bible was quoted freely to attack or defend human bondage. Resolutions of State Legislatures added their weight to either side. Some debaters in Congress deplored the "poisoning of the national affection," seeing in it the revival of the sectional envy and dislike dormant for the past thirty years. Other hot-blooded speakers declared that this contest could be ended only by bloodshed.

Looking beneath the unfortunate sectionalism, which was to retard the growth of the Union for the coming half-century, one sees that the people faced a new question: had the United States a right to place an anti-slavery restriction on a sovereign State at the time of creating it from a Territory? The answer would greatly affect the relation of the States to the Union. Few States had been admitted without some conditions, such as the non-taxation of public lands and the perpetual freedom of navigable waters; but those were of national importance and different from slavery, which was claimed to be of local concern. In admitting Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, formed from the North-west Territory, Congress had provided that their constitutions should not be repugnant to the Ordinance of 1787. That this did not mean a rigid adherence to the anti-slavery provision was shown by the admission of Illinois in 1818 with an apprentice system, which made slavery possible in that State for twenty-two years to come. A motion to reject the application of Illinois on this ground was overwhelmingly defeated. The States of Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, and Alabama, had been created out of the indefinite territory south of the Ohio River in which Congress had pledged itself to make no law emancipating slaves. No slavery conditions were placed upon their admission, which was considered equivalent to an agreement that they were to be slave States. Louisiana was created out of the Louisiana Purchase and Arkansas made into a Territory with the same tacit permission, as has been said. Precedent consequently taught everything and nothing so far as Missouri was concerned.

The obligations of the Union toward a State were freely discussed; whether "new states may be admitted by the Congress" meant "must" be admitted. On a small scale the discussion rehearsed the Hayne-Webster debate a decade later. Occasional pleas were heard for "the old Republican doctrine which limited the general government to the expressed powers and prevented it from encroaching on the young states or on the free movement of personal property." Various phrases in the Constitution were quoted both to prove and disprove the power of Congress to prohibit slavery in a new State. "The citizens of each state shall be entitled to all privileges and immunities of citizens in the several states," it was claimed, would permit the migration of slaveholders to Missouri with their property. "The migration or importation of such persons as any of the states now existing shall think proper to admit shall not be prohibited by the Congress prior to 1808," was said to permit, conversely, such prohibition after that date. The other side claimed that the clause was intended to refer solely to slaves imported into the United States and not to interstate migration. Under the clause that the Congress shall guarantee a republican form of government to every State, the Declaration of Independence was quoted to prove that freedom is the natural condition of a republic and that slaves were held only pending their emancipation. Such sentiments drew a sharp rebuke from the opposing side. Slaves might even then be in the gallery, it was said, to overhear such revolutionary doctrine.

So persistent were members in hunting up and interpreting various phrases of the Constitution, each to suit his own views, that one disgusted Republican protested against "a species of special pleading which hunts for powers in words and sentences taken here and there from the instrument and patched together forming something like a pretext for the exercise of power palpably interdicted by the plain sense and intention of the instrument." The cry of "home rule" for the State of Missouri on the slavery question was the forerunner of "squatter sovereignty" two decades later. Calhoun's later plea that any citizen had the right to migrate to any part of the co-operative public lands and to carry with him all his property found a first hearing in this debate on the admission of Missouri.

The equilibrium maintained so carefully in the Senate had long since disappeared in the House because of the varying distribution of population. Of the 180 members who considered the Missouri question in the more popular branch, 104 came from the free States and only 76 from the slave States. The vote of 87 to 76 by which the House finally forbade slavery in the new State was indicative to some extent of this proportion, although party lines influenced a few votes. Virginia stood solidly for slavery, and New York, with one exception, against it. Of the nineteen votes from Pennsylvania, only one was cast for slavery in Missouri. Massachusetts was almost as unanimous. North and South Carolina, Georgia and Mississippi, the future champions of the system, unanimously opposed placing such restriction on the new State. The Senate, more nearly balanced, refused to agree with the restrictive vote of the House. A counter-measure was proposed by the Southern interests to admit Maine and Missouri jointly, allowing home rule to each on the slavery question. The majority in the House opposed this method of evidently opening the new State to slavery. A deadlock between the two branches was imminent.

Meanwhile a bill had appeared in the Senate to draw the dividing-line between slavery and freedom across the Louisiana Purchase along thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes north latitude, a continuation of the Kentucky-Tennessee boundary. This would make Missouri a free State. Considering the triangular shape of the purchase, with the bulk of land lying to the north of the proposed line, the division was manifestly unequal. Roughly estimated, the proportions would be about one to seven. That would mean in time fourteen Northern and two Southern Senators. It would mean seven times the chances of population for representation in the House. At last, Henry Clay, Speaker of the House, who had favoured slavery in Missouri, was able to effect a compromise whereby thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes was accepted as the dividing-line; but the State of Missouri, which lay to the north of it, was made an exception and admitted without any restriction and, consequently, open to slavery. In all the remainder of the vast tract north of the line slavery was forbidden, as it had been in the Northwest Territory.

This extension of the slavery-freedom line ran up the Mississippi from the mouth of the Ohio, passed about the State of Missouri, returned to her southern boundary, and ran thence to the summit of the Rocky Mountains. There were now twelve free and twelve slave States in the Union. The South had gained her point in throwing Missouri open to slavery and so maintaining the balance of power in the Senate. But she had paid a heavy penalty for it. That she would remain content with this unequal distribution; that the next generation would abide by the compromise when new States were created; that the free migration of the people with their property could be checked by a parallel of latitude; that the question of territorial slavery had been settled by a drawn battle, few could hope or expect.

This dissension over the simple matter of admitting a State to the Union was a temporary check to the national feeling engendered by the War of 1812. The spectre of sectionalism was disclosed at the banquet table. Jefferson compared it to an alarm-bell in the night, when writing from Monticello to John Adams. "The Missouri question," replied the retired statesman of Braintree, "I hope, will follow the other waves under the ship and do no harm." Yet he appreciated the dangers of sectionalism under unscrupulous leaders. "I am Cassandra enough to dream," he added, "that another Hamilton, another Burr, might rend this mighty fabric in twain ... and a few more choice spirits of the same stamp might produce as many nations in North America as there are in Europe." The third ex-President, Madison, deplored the "angry and unfortunate discussion" about Missouri. "Should a state of parties arise," he said, "founded on geographical boundaries and other physical and permanent distinctions which happen to coincide with them, what is to control those great repulsive masses from awful shocks against each other?" Time alone was needed to bring a sad answer to the inquiry.



CHAPTER XIX

ANNOUNCEMENT OF NATIONAL INDIVIDUALITY



The rebirth of nationalism, which followed the War of 1812 in the New World, was likely sooner or later to come into conflict with the rebirth of monarchy, which followed the Napoleonic wars in the Old World. The restoration of the European monarchs had been witnessed by the American people with a mingling of indignation and despair. Daily the conviction grew that free government must find a home in America if it survived. American self-government and a free people were arrayed in popular thought against European monarchy and nobility. Commenting on the accumulated wealth of the British nobility, an American editor said: "Thanks be to Heaven! we have probably not one man in the United States whose settled income is equal to a half of the least of these. But in lieu of such great estates, we have a pleasing contrast to offer in the vast majority we possess of persons who earn or receive from $1,000 to $1,500 a year, and who are the bone and sinew of our country and the natural republicans of every clime." American newspapers lost no opportunity of ridiculing European royalty. The cost of maintaining the nobility was dwelt upon as a burden on the people. The attempt of George IV. to divorce his Queen furnished a text for many republican sermons. The coronation of the King in his "holy" and "sacred" vestments was declared to be ridiculous. "We plain republicans," said one writer, "cannot understand how there could be anything more like sacrilege in stealing that mantle than in stealing a sheep."

The Church was prominent in all phases of the restoration of legitimacy in Europe—a connection incomprehensible in America, where Church and State had been completely severed in the course of the political revolution. Disestablishment by statute in Virginia had been followed by similar action in all States where the Established Church held. Local constitutions as formed by the States guaranteed not toleration, but absolute religious freedom. The first amendment to the Constitution of the United States made this freedom national. The Ordinance for the North-west Territory extended it to States yet unborn. Washington, as President, gave assurance of non-interference in the replies which he framed to addresses from the leading sects. Indeed, it is difficult to imagine how a State church could have been maintained in the rapid shifting of the Chief Executive. President Washington was an Episcopalian, President Adams a Congregationalist, and President Jefferson a free-thinker, or Unitarian of later times. So thoroughly had Church and State been divorced in America that some suspicion was aroused over a manifesto signed at St. Petersburg, on "the day of the birth of our Saviour," 1816, by the monarchs of Austria, Russia, and Prussia. It announced that "in conformity with the words of the Holy Scripture, which commands all men to regard one another as brethren," the three agreed to lend each other assistance, aid, and support, and to govern their subjects in "a spirit of fraternity for the protection of religion, peace and justice." The exhortation of these monarchs to their people to fortify themselves in the principles of the Saviour, no less than the confession that they themselves ruled only by a delegation of power from Christ, was regarded by the Protestant Americans as religious cant. The power behind the throne was more likely force of arms. The provision that other nations professing these principles should be "received with as much readiness as affection in this holy alliance" was regarded as a bid and possible conspiracy for the extension of legitimacy not alone to Europe, but to the colonial holdings as well.

The United States, although sneering at the legitimacy of European monarchs and disappointed in seeing their high hopes in the French Revolution brought to such a defeat, had no vital interest in any restoration save within the Spanish colonies in America, which had revolted under Napoleonic interference. British Canada had made no attempt at revolution and France had no possessions on the American Continent. The United States had watched eagerly and sympathetically the spread of revolutionary principles from colony to colony in the Spanish-American possessions, and the resulting institution of self-government. Orators vied with each other in picturing the spread of freedom in the New World. Statesmen drew up constitutions for the new republics. Clay was given a vote of thanks by the Mexican Congress for his sentiments expressed for their welfare. Ministers had been sent to them as rapidly as they showed ability to govern themselves and to maintain a stable government. Should all this good work be undone and the hands turned backward on the dial of liberty by conspiring European monarchs? Should legitimacy cast its blight again on the New World as it had already done on the Old? Should the Holy Alliance be allowed to extend its monarchical compulsion to the Spanish-American republics under the sacred garb of religion?

Speculation was rife in both British and American newspapers concerning the objects of this holy league, or Holy Alliance, as it began to be called. To some it smacked of Inquisition days. To others it suggested a crusade on all republican principles. In the House of Commons Castlereagh explained that it contemplated no hostility to States outside the Church and that it was couched in the mildest spirit of Christian toleration. He confessed that it was drawn up in an unusual manner, but that it nevertheless gave no grounds whatever for entertaining the slightest jealousy.

England had assisted in the restoration of monarchy. Would Protestant England join the Holy Alliance? Would the Alliance turn its attention to the Spanish-American republics after it had carried out its evident determination to replace Ferdinand on the Spanish throne? These were questions asked by the people of the United States. If Europe was to become the champion of monarchy and legitimacy, why should not America become the guardian of freedom and republicanism? Undoubtedly the tendency of Russia to creep quietly down the Pacific coast from her north-west possessions contributed to the conviction that the offices of the Holy Alliance could be called into service in that quarter also if necessary. It is just as true that the struggle for autonomy which the Greeks were instituting attracted sympathy in America and added to the conviction that a world struggle was imminent between monarchy and republicanism.

That destiny had marked the United States for an unparalleled career had been a common saying since the days of Patrick Henry. But that isolation from European entanglements was necessary to fulfil it was equally appreciated. Washington had expressed this conviction in his farewell address. Jefferson had been goaded into the wish that an ocean of fire separated the two hemispheres. Madison in 1811, fearing that Great Britain intended interfering in Florida affairs, questioned whether the United States should not announce that it could not see, "without serious inquietude," neighbouring territory pass from Spain to any other foreign power. "The provinces belonging to this hemisphere are our neighbors," said President Monroe in a special message to Congress in 1822. "The foothold which the nations of Europe had in either America is slipping from under them," wrote ex-President Jefferson to Monroe, "so that we shall soon be rid of their neighborhood." "The American continents are no longer subjects for any new European colonial establishments," said Secretary of State John Quincy Adams to the Russian Minister, in discussing the proper limits of Russian America on the north-west coast. The United States representative to England was authorised by Adams to announce the fact that the American continents would be no longer subject to European colonisation. Occupied by civilised, independent nations, they would be accessible to Europeans and to each other on that footing alone.

The United States "should therefore have a system of her own separate and apart from that of Europe," replied Jefferson to President Monroe, who had consulted him in the autumn of 1823 concerning the various topics to be treated in his annual message to Congress. "While the last is laboring to become the domicile of despotism, our endeavor should surely be to make our hemisphere that of freedom." He agreed upon the advisability of some public notice. "Its object is to introduce and establish the American system of keeping out of our land all foreign powers, of never permitting those of Europe to intermeddle with the affairs of our nation." Since such a stand might bring war, he advised Monroe to present the matter to Congress at the coming session in the shape of a declaration of principles.

These utterances of public men backed by the increasing feeling of nationality among the people assumed final shape in the announcement by Monroe in his seventh annual message to Congress, December, 1823, of the famous "doctrine" which bears his name. It strongly hinted that the United States would interpose against any European attempt to interfere with the freedom of the South American republics or to extend farther the monarchical system to the New World. At the same time, it denied any intention on the part of the United States of interfering with European affairs. It meant the future separation of the two hemispheres so far as control was concerned. The only exceptions at the time were England in Canada, Spain in the West Indies, and Russia on the north-west coast. It meant self-preservation for the present and proper precautions for the future.

The announcement created little comment at home. The people generally are not in touch with presidential messages unless some concrete case is involved. The Holy Alliance had taken as yet no overt action toward the New World. In Europe the announcement attracted more attention. Before this time, it had been said in the British Commons that the Congress of Vienna should have seen to the balance of power in the New as well as the Old World. Another speaker had called attention to the fact that two German princes could not exchange meadows without attracting European attention in a congress, but that the United States was allowed to take any stand or acquire any territory in a vast continent. But British sentiment had now turned against the Holy Alliance, and the British press pronounced the Monroe doctrine "noble and firm, yet temperate and pacific." They contrasted its "manly plainness" with the Machiavellism and hypocrisy of the European manifestos. "Intervention in South American affairs," said one writer, "may now be considered as at rest. The United States would resist by war and no power is willing to affront both the United States and Great Britain." The French press belittled the announcement as the personal expression of "a temporary president of a republic only forty years old." It also called attention to the fact that this republic, which was so boldly proclaiming the severance of the Western world, was bounded on the north by the possessions of the king of England and on the south by those of the king of Spain—a pretty situation for the self-appointed protector of the two Americas!

The Monroe doctrine, or "policy" as it should be called, spoke the sentiment of nationality engendered by the late war and augmented until it had assumed the cry of "America for Americans!" The acquisition of Louisiana and the Floridas, the absence of political parties, and the appreciation of republican blessings were the prime causes. The announcement marked the climax of unionism for the time. The sectional fears aroused by the slavery issue in Missouri three years before had been quieted by a compromise and were now forgotten in a national alliance against foreign menace. The announcement inaugurated a period of isolation for the United States, during which she could gain strength to meet her European rivals on equal ground instead of becoming a tool for them. Never again would she be caught in an entangling alliance such as that with France in 1778.

If American national feeling had diminished after the announcement, the doctrine of American individuality and of American destiny would have waned and disappeared. That the policy has been expanded until it covers nearly every phase of foreign relationship in the New World, that a simple announcement which grew out of a condition has been made into an expression of American paramount interest, that it has become a national fetich although unrecognised as a part of international law,—all this is a fresh indication of the steady growth of national sentiment and activity.

Just in the full flush of the announcement, a more zealous race with a more fiery temperament than the Americans might have gone too far. The temptation was presented most attractively. The South Americans, the antipodals of the North Americans, saw in the Monroe announcement a protection from European interference. Several of the republics planned a congress at the central city of Panama, "to settle a general system of American policy in relation to Europe, leaving to each section of the country a perfect liberty of independent self-government." They hoped for a gathering of "the powers of America" to offset the powers of Europe. An alliance against an Alliance was the thought. Among the objects to be considered was "the manner in which all the colonization of European powers on the American continent shall be resisted, and their interference in the present contest between Spain and her former colonies prevented." Since this was simply a re-statement of the Monroe doctrine, it was presumed that the United States would take a leading part; but because the abolition of slavery was another point to be considered, the pro-slavery element in Congress overruled the wish of President Adams to take part in the meeting. It was also feared that a participation might involve the United States in the prevailing war between Spain and the South American republics.

The interesting but profitless field of speculation might be exhausted in imagining the result if the United States had thus linked herself to the Spanish Americas in an American alliance. The problem of securing the trade of those republics, which has occupied the attention of many statesmen since that day, might have yielded to this solution; but that any permanent alliance could have been made between peoples of antagonistic temperament and varying ideals of self-government is far from likely. Many times since then the growing American spirit has demanded that Uncle Sam should become the policeman of America; but the narrow escape in this instance from incurring such an undesirable task leads to the hope that it will never be assumed.

Leadership in the "let us alone" policy was taken by the United States as the result of her geographic isolation, as well as her centrality of location. She was nearest to the new republics and had most to lose. Eliminating Canada as a British possession and Brazil with an enervating climate and Latin leadership, the United States was the only power whose size and resources entitled her to speak with authority on the question of European interference. The Monroe doctrine was primarily intracontinental and for immediate self-preservation; secondarily it was extracontinental and for ultimate self-preservation. England, the only European New World power remaining of the six whose discoveries originally entitled them to that distinction, was equally interested in the preservation of Canada and the freedom of trade which the independence of the Spanish-American republics made possible. She rejected the Holy Alliance to support the Monroe doctrine. Without British co-operation it is doubtful whether the stand could have been maintained and the Holy Alliance held in check. This cooperation brought about a speedy rapprochement between the two recent enemies. It was hastened by the diplomatic skill of Gallatin in arranging for a joint occupation of the region west of the Rocky Mountains commonly known as the Oregon country. By the treaties of 1818 and 1827, final decision was delayed until increasing population should aid in deciding ownership.

Nationality had been breeding constantly in directions aside from foreign policy, protective tariffs, and internal improvements. A literary independence was manifesting itself, although in a crude form. The sneers of Britain that the Americans were dependent upon Europe for their literature, although indignantly denied, were largely true. American publishers had been long accustomed to reprint English works, upon which, in the absence of an international copyright law, they paid no royalties. Byron, Wordsworth, Scott, Coleridge, Keats, Moore, Hallam, Maria Edgeworth, and Miss Austen were made available to American readers in this way. In any parlour a young woman would be found who could sing Bonnie Doon or recite from The Lady of the Lake. A review of Don Juan appeared in a magazine published in central Kentucky within six weeks after it was first printed in England. Democracy and nature were the subjects mostly adopted by these English writers, and they appealed quite naturally to New World readers. As Lowell, at a later time, said of the Americans of this period:

"They stole Englishmen's books and thought Englishmen's thoughts; With English salt on her tail, our wild Eagle was caught."



So dependent were the States, that a publisher who dared to bring out a native work did so at a financial peril. The first edition of Trumbull's Poems lost one thousand dollars. Morse's Geography, text-books, and the classics were the only remunerative publications. But soon after the War of 1812, evidences of a change were manifest. The attention of American writers heretofore had been occupied largely with the rights of man and other political theories borrowed from the Old World. Democracy had now adjusted itself to the conditions of the New World and had become practical. Wild-eyed theory had given way to plain fact. Economic questions, begotten of the new domestic conditions, were beginning to occupy public attention. Abstract political rights became secondary to the price and production of cotton, the encouragement of manufactures, the invention of machinery, means of transportation, the employment of emigrants, and the economic value of the slavery system. In 1819, Irving refused a remunerative offer to contribute to the London Quarterly, because it had been unremitting in its abuse of his countrymen. He preferred to patronise a home publication.

This declaration of literary independence was indicative of the times. Between the close of the war and the end of Jackson's second administration, probably one hundred and fifty periodicals, entirely separate from the newspapers, were established in the United States. About one-third of them was of a religious character, and as many more devoted to some kind of philanthropic purpose, like temperance, African colonisation, and missionary work. Their nature may be indicated by such titles as The New York Mirror, The Casket, The Evangelical Guardian, The Portico, The Lady Book, The Boston Pearl, The Cincinnati Mirror, and The Family Lyceum. Many of these lived only a year or two, yet they show a desire among the people for a native literature, however crude and sentimental it might be. During this period also came the evanescent "Annual," a species of vapid literature borrowed from Germany through England. Upon the centre-table, near the case of stuffed birds, you could find The Token or The Pearl. Perhaps the giver had preferred The Casket or The Western Souvenir. Symptoms of a more advanced regard were denoted by the choice of the Remember Me.

The largest number of these ephemeral periodicals appeared in New York, and the next largest in Philadelphia. Boston ranked third. Philadelphia, the home of Franklin, of Hopkinson, and of Rittenhouse, had been the literary head of America before the War of 1812. So long as the Ohio River remained the natural highway to the West, her literary products found a market which no competitor could take away. But with the development of other ways, and especially with the opening of the Erie Canal, New York and Boston gradually won these laurels from her.

Indeed, the West began to supply its own wants. Of these transitory publications, no less than seventeen were established west of the Alleghenies. As early as 1803, a literary magazine had been founded at Lexington, Kentucky, the seat of the Transylvania University and the centre of culture for the Ohio valley. Even villages aspired to be "the Athens of the West." Mt. Pleasant and Oxford in the State of Ohio vied with Rogersville, Tennessee, and Vandalia, Illinois, in establishing literary magazines and fostering literary pursuits.

All this marks simply a stage in the development of American literature, as it shows a step in the growth of American nationality. Permanent literature awaited better printing facilities, larger patronage of letters, improved postal accommodations, the growth of cities, and more leisure and more refinement. Prophecies of a true national awakening are to be sought not alone in the Monroe doctrine, the tariff and bank issues, and the spread of internal improvements,—political events which commonly eclipse the intellectual aspects of nationality; but also in the Unitarian revolt of 1815, led by Channing, which loosed New England from the stiffening bonds of Calvinism, the Quaker schism in the Middle States, and the birth of the Campbellites in the West. The goodness of man was beginning to attract more attention than the total depravity of man. The North American Review was founded in 1815. Four years later, Irving published the Sketch-Book. Bryant's first volume of poems, treating generally of local themes, appeared in 1820. During the ensuing ten years Cooper gave out eleven novels, the scenes of which were laid almost exclusively in America. Only the world-reform movement of 1830 was needed to develop fully an American literature.

Although not so immediately connected with the people, this story must not lose sight of another function of the government of the States which was steadily making for their unification. The Federal Judiciary, the one branch of the national frame which the Republicans in their twenty years of national control had not been able to curb or get possession of, was following the bias which John Marshall's first decisions gave to it. Abuses in the Legislative and Executive branches could be corrected by an appeal to the ballot. Substantial proof of the efficacy of this corrective was to be found in the Alien and Sedition laws, according to the Republicans. They claimed to have appealed to the people in the Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions, and the people had cast the offending party from power. But the Judiciary was entrenched in life tenure and not susceptible to this remedy. It was a constant regret to Jefferson to the end of his life that the corrective measures taken by him and his party against the national courts had not included an amendment changing the life tenure of the judges to a definite period of years. The idea of a permanent Judiciary had been one of the results of the political struggle with Great Britain preceding the Revolution. Jefferson also regretted that no one in the Convention of 1787 had thought of changing the vote necessary for removing a judge by impeachment from two-thirds to a majority.

Year after year, during the Republican administrations, the national Judiciary had been quietly shoring up by its decisions the fabric of the Union, as fate compelled the Jeffersonians to erect it. The "formative decisions" of John Marshall, during his thirty-four years on the Supreme bench, maintained constantly the rights of the Federal courts and added to the prerogatives of the Central Government against the States. Scarcely a decision favoured the reserved rights theory. By the opinion in Marbury vs. Madison, already quoted, the Executive branch, presumably entirely divorced from the Judiciary, was found to be under a certain control. The case of Cohens vs. Virginia sustained the power of the Federal court over an appeal from a State court. It often happened that in a decision, as in the case of Insurance Company vs. Canter, Marshall took occasion to bring out deductions remotely germane to the pending case, but tending to broaden the scope of the Federal power. In this instance, he declared that the constitutional power to make a treaty carried the implied power to acquire territory. This really gave authority to unauthorised acts of the Republicans in purchasing Louisiana; but their remedy was an amendment and not a decision which made the legislative and executive powers still more dependent upon the judiciary.

Jefferson complained of these "obiter dissertations," which suggested consolidating actions to other parts of the Federal Government. In the trial of Aaron Burr for treason, Justice Marshall held that, according to the Constitution, some overt act was necessary to constitute treason. This practical release of his former political opponent was to Jefferson as sore a grievance as Marshall's action in sending to him for certain papers connected with the case. He declared the latter act a presumptuous infringement upon the dignity of the Chief Executive.

The case of McCulloch vs. Maryland, in 1819, denying the right of a State to tax a branch of the United States bank, afforded the court an opportunity of dwelling upon the implied powers in the Constitution and of giving judicial sanction to the various legislative acts already done under them. To charter a bank was not among the powers given to the National Government, but was "implied," as Marshall held. The decision gave great offence to the particularists and called general attention to this silent Union-making factor. Various Southern writers took up pens against this new menace to individual rights. Some State Legislatures adopted protests. Madison alluded sarcastically to the "projectile capacity" of the court, whereby it extended the power of Congress from the exclusive jurisdiction reserve of ten miles square constituting the District, even to the uttermost parts of the country. The "twistifications" of Marshall, said Jefferson, showed how dexterously he could reconcile law to his personal biasses. Indeed, Jefferson confessed that he did not look for unbiassed opinions between the National Government, of which the court was so eminent a part, and individual States, from which they had nothing to fear. "They are then in fact the corps of sappers and miners," said he, "steadily working to undermine the independent rights of the States, and to consolidate all powers in the hands of that Government in which they have so important a freehold estate." He could see no hope for the future. Even more would he have despaired if he could have known that this silent factor in making the Union was to continue until the eighty years of John Marshall's life were ended, before a strict constructionist could be appointed to the head of the court and bring its decisions back to the confines of individualism.



CHAPTER XX

FULL FRUITS OF AMERICANISM



It is simply a deduction from facts given in the preceding pages to say that by 1825 the trans-Alleghenian region had come into its own. It was sufficient to itself in population, resources, and leadership. The premiership of the Atlantic plain had passed. Foreign relations were secondary to domestic concerns. The Monroe doctrine was called out by foreign menace. It was voiced by Eastern statesmen; but it was based upon the support of the inland people, who had nerved the Administration to the War of 1812.

The fidelity of the Western people was no longer questioned. The Union cherished their interests and they supported the Union. Their dealings were almost exclusively with the Federal Government and not with the States. The public land, from which their homes had been secured and their States largely formed, was administered by the central power and entirely for their accommodation. The land policy of the Government was unselfish to a marked degree.

The original two million acres of public lands sold to the Ohio Company was reduced to less than a million. Soon after, another million was sold to John Cleves Symmes, of New Jersey, on a speculation, of which about one-fourth was eventually taken. The State of Pennsylvania purchased the "Erie triangle," in order to get a north-west frontage on Lake Erie. These three sales were accomplished under the Confederation. The price averaged about seventy-five cents an acre.

The care of the public lands had been given to the Treasury Department. Hamilton, in 1790, presented to Congress an elaborate plan for their disposal. Under this plan, individuals were to be dealt with as well as companies. Lots of one square mile, containing 640 acres, were to be placed upon sale at two dollars per acre. Public offerings were to be made at Cincinnati, Pittsburg, and Philadelphia. But the hostility of the Indians reduced the number of purchasers. Prior to 1800, only a million acres had been disposed of in this manner. A law of that year provided a system of registers and receivers, to be stationed at land offices scattered through the North-west Territory. A credit system was also established, whereby so small a portion as a half-section could be purchased on instalment payments, with interest at six per cent. This law made the lands very attractive, as credit propositions always are. Prospective landholders rushed across the mountains and stood in line before the register's doors. The saying, "Doing a land-office business," brings the scene to the imagination. As the embargo and the War of 1812 cut off men from employment on the sea and along the coast, their attention was directed to the possibilities of the public lands. Between 1800 and 1820, nearly twenty million acres were sold, bringing in cash receipts of over forty-five million dollars. After 1806, the old certificates and other forms of government paper were no longer received in payment for lands. The credit system had been adopted to allow poor men to purchase farms and pay for them from the products of the land. But it tempted many to purchase more land than they could pay for. In order to relieve these creditors, Congress passed no less than fourteen acts. One of these reduced the price for future purchasers to $1.25 an acre and made it possible to purchase so small a quantity as eighty acres. This clemency brought further demands and paved the way for the later pre-emption acts.

The Ordinance of 1787 had declared that schools and the means of education should be for ever encouraged, while the Land Ordinance of 1785 provided funds by setting aside a section of land in every township of the public domain. Endowments had also been made for religious purposes from the Ohio Company lands and from the Symmes purchase; but the practice was discontinued thereafter, probably owing to the difficulty of administering the land without recognising some sect. After much discussion, Congress decided not to retain the management of the school lands, but to hand them over to the inhabitants of the township, the State acting as trustee. This provision was incorporated in the formative act of every State and Territory until the organisation of the Oregon Territory. It was a tribute to home rule. Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana were the States benefited in this way before 1825. The States which contained no public lands were obviously deprived of this resource. The income from the school lands has been small in each State compared with the sum raised by local taxation for educational purposes; but the gratitude inuring to the Central Government for its charity toward what has become almost a fetich, free education, must be noticed in describing the unification of the American people.

Mention has been made of the share of land sale receipts under which the Cumberland Road was begun. The original purpose was to cross the watershed from the Potomac to the Ohio. In 1820, the great work was completed to Wheeling, on the Ohio. Three waggons could be drawn abreast over the greater part of its length. Solid stone bridges arched the watercourses. The well-paved surface greatly reduced the length of time required for carrying the mails across the mountains. Rapid stage lines and freight waggons of large capacity passed to and fro. Droves of cattle and hogs were frequently met, passing over it to an Eastern market. More than $1,800,000 had already been spent by the National Government on its construction, being "advanced" in anticipation of the land sales.

Here the hand of compulsion showed itself. The States of Indiana, Illinois, and Missouri, with whom bargains had been made for spending part of the proceeds of the land sales in building roads to their borders, complained that a road to the Ohio did not fulfill the contract. Hence the road was extended through the capitals of these States, committing the Federal Government for many years to come to one form at least of internal improvement. The farce of "advancing" the money was continued a while longer.

Of the four great highways over the Allegheny watershed, contemplated by Gallatin in his report in 1808, the Cumberland Road was the only one realised. No excuse similar to the one under which it was begun ever presented itself, and the party vision was not sufficiently national to undertake public improvements unless in disguise. The strict-construction theory that these works should be built by the individual States threw upon the newer States a burden which they could ill afford to bear. The West was almost ready to revolt against the hidebound policy of the Administrations.

Individualism was characteristic of the Southern States as a whole, but this improvement question broke the ranks of individualism by allying the newer Southern States with the newer Northern States for the benefits of national paternalism. To illustrate: a proposition in 1824 to employ the army engineers in making surveys for roads and canals passed the House without a negative vote from Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri, Louisiana, or Alabama. Of the older States, Maryland and Pennsylvania, interested in opening up the western parts of their respective domains in this manner, joined themselves to the Western States and made possible the passage of the bill. Different speakers deplored this tendency to arouse sectional animosities; to array the older States, which had made such improvements from their own resources, against the new States, which would presumably be the sole gainers by government aid.

Clay was the leader of the Western section. He saw in the situation possibilities of building up a great following for this American idea. He declared that the power of Congress to control commerce meant inland as well as ocean commerce; that the construction of harbours upon the Great Lakes was as much a duty as the building of harbours along the seacoast; that dredging a Western river was as constitutional as clearing an ocean channel. He once said that to make a distinction between these two kinds of commerce would require an analysis of the water for each appropriation; if salt, the measure was constitutional; if fresh water, unconstitutional.

"Two years ago," said he, in pleading for a system of canals for the western people, "a sea wall, in other words, a marine canal, was authorized by an act of Congress in New Hampshire, and I doubt not that many voted for it who have now constitutional scruples on this bill. Yes, everything may be done for foreign commerce; anything, everything, on the margin of the ocean. But nothing for domestic trade; nothing for the great interior of the country."

With his growing Western following, Clay was becoming a thorn in the side of strict construction. He refused to be bound by theories which had held at the beginning of the national history. "A new world," said he, "has come into being since the Constitution was adopted. Are the narrow, limited necessities of the old thirteen States, indeed, of parts only of the old thirteen States as they existed at foundation of the Constitution, for ever to remain a rule of its interpretation?" He had little patience with the Republican theory of adding amendments to the Constitution to bestow the implied powers. "Man and his language," said he, "are both defective. We cannot foresee and provide specifically for all contingencies. If you amend the constitution a thousand times, the same imperfection of our nature and our language will attend our new words."

Jefferson complained that Clay had banded the Western and Northern States together under his banner of national benefits. "The Western States," said he, "have especially been bribed by local considerations to abandon their ancient brethren and enlist under banners alien to them in principle and interest." So rapidly did the demand for paternalistic measures take possession of the people, that Monroe felt called upon to re-state the early principles of the party, as Madison had done a few years before. The former dependencies of the National Government bade fair to overthrow parental policies. The Cumberland Road was a bright and shining mark. Appropriations for it could not be stopped without a confession of inconsistency if not a revolt of the people. But in 1822 a bill passed both Houses of Congress to collect tolls on the road for its repair. Monroe vetoed the bill and presented a long exposition of the Republican policy toward public improvements. It was the most exhaustive document written on this persistent Union-making factor. Monroe found a beginning of the reserved power of the States in the Colonial governments which reserved all powers not expressly given to the king. The colonies kept those rights when transforming themselves into States. When creating the Articles of Confederation, the States gave to them certain of these rights, carefully specified, and reserved all the rest. The same plan was followed in framing the Constitution.

"Had the people of the several States," said Monroe, "thought proper to incorporate themselves into one community, under one government, they might have done it. They wisely stopped, however, at a certain point, extending the incorporation to that point, making the national government thus far a consolidated government, and preserving the state governments without that limit perfectly sovereign and independent of the national government."

From an unprejudiced standpoint, this presentation of the historic facts in the case is difficult to answer. "There were two separate and independent governments," continued the President, "established over our union, one for local purposes over each state by the people of the state, the other for national purposes over all the states by the people of the United States."

He next proceeded to examine the six powers given to the National Government, which had been so distorted and incorrectly interpreted in justifying national expenditures for public improvements that, in his opinion, they threatened the very existence of the States. These six enumerated powers and their distortions may be summed up: 1. To establish post-roads; consequently to construct highways for commerce. 2. To declare war; consequently to provide means for moving troops and supplies. 3. To regulate commerce; consequently to improve rivers and build harbours for inland commerce. 4. To pay the debts and provide for the common defence and general welfare; consequently, to make appropriations for anything which would benefit the people and contribute to their defence or welfare. 5. To make all laws necessary and proper for carrying into effective execution the foregoing powers; consequently to extend the expressed powers to an unlimited degree by adding corollaries to them. 6. To dispose of and make all needful rules and regulations concerning the territory of the United States; consequently, to appropriate money for public improvements in them.

At the same time that he was attempting to prove that no general system of improvements was justified by any of these expressed powers, Monroe was demonstrating the absurdity of the policy of hesitation. The justice of a toll system no one questioned. Those who use an improvement should pay for its repair. A toll was sanctioned by generations of practice and was in use on many State and corporate turnpikes and bridges. Monroe had travelled the National Road and had seen numerous evidences of the manner in which the highway was abused by the users and could fully appreciate the necessity for its protection and repair. Yet his conscientious scruples could not allow the agency which built the road to care for it properly by collecting money simply because it must be done inside the sacred precincts of some State. Neither would he admit that the States individually could give permission to collect a toll, although they could and did allow money from the national treasury to be spent within their limits in constructing the highway originally. Into what a constitutional maze had strict construction, driven by the needs of the people, brought the Administration of the United States!



A sufficient number of partisans were won by Monroe's exposition to change their votes and so prevent the passage of the measure over his veto. But the "toll-gate question" remained for several years to perplex statesmen and cause long debates, while Congress made appropriations directly for the repair of the Cumberland Road. Monroe had made public improvements the fruit of Tantalus to the hungry people by suggesting in his veto message that he would have no objection to such enterprises being undertaken by the National Government provided an amendment were added to the Constitution permitting such action. It was not a new suggestion. Jefferson, in various presidential messages, had suggested this way of meeting the demand for these paternalistic benefits. Madison twice at least followed his example. In the sessions of 1813 and the following year, two amendments were considered, one giving Congress power to make roads, and the other to make canals in any State, with the consent of the State; but no action followed. President Monroe, in his first message, called attention to the desirability of such an amendment and a week later a bill to that effect was introduced. It was unique in providing that appropriations were to be distributed among the States according to population, a prophecy of the Confederate States constitution decades later. No less than six attempts to secure such an amendment followed Monroe's "exposition" and suggestion. Not one succeeded in passing either House.

The failure to secure this constitutional remedy for the public improvement fever was a cause of anxiety to Jefferson in the closing days of his life. In 1824, an amendment of this kind was pending, together with others limiting the term of the Presidency and abolishing the electoral system. "If I can see these three great amendments prevail," said the aged statesman, "I shall consider it as a renewed extension of the time of the lease, shall live in more confidence, and die in more hope." He complained of the "irresistible torrent of general opinion"; thought national appropriations for constructing roads and canals such a breach of the national compact as would warrant withdrawal from it; and wrote out for the Virginia Legislature a protest, as he had done for Kentucky during the Alien and Sedition laws a quarter of a century before. He also drew a general law to be passed by all State Legislatures rendering legitimate all national money previously spent within the State. Its adoption would have been a singular confession of unconstitutional action. Several State Legislatures in the South resolved to protest. Their representatives in Congress were resisting national appropriations, while the Northern and Western States were getting the advantage of them. Thus did political theory supplement the work of nature in directing the larger portion of these appropriations to the northern part of the country. Years after, this unequal distribution was to constitute a Southern grievance.

This internal improvement contention, arraying the Eastern and Western States against each other, partly nullified the permanent sectionalism between the North and the South, and so made for unionism. Louisiana and Ohio, uniting for improvement appropriations, forgot their differences of opinion upon constitutional powers, upon home rule or nationalism, upon freedom or slavery. South Carolina and Massachusetts, joining hands to prevent these drains upon the treasury for public works far removed from their borders, forgot for the nonce their differences upon the question of a tariff. But all such affiliations and truces were only temporary. Sooner or later the combat was bound to be renewed between North and South, between peoples alienated by inheritance, temperament, and products.

Contemporaneous with the debate on national surveys for improvements, a spirited debate arose on the tariff. It soon showed an unfortunate tendency to North and South sectional lines, especially when compared with the post-war-tariff debate of eight years before. Protection in those intervening years had begun to assume a sectional aspect, although as yet only in a formative state. The Southern people had begun to realise that their slave labour was not applicable to factories, and that they must depend for their goods upon Europe and upon the Northern States. Under the theory that the consumer pays the duty, the burden was thought to fall equally upon all parts of the country, unless the duty should grow into a discrimination upon one kind of goods or those consumed exclusively in one section. Massachusetts was singular among Northern States, being opposed to this tariff measure of 1824 because of the high duty on canvas and other ship-building materials. Some Southern speakers thought that the duties on cheap dry goods used by their slaves rather discriminated against them. They pointed to the fact that New England manufacturers scarcely needed protective legislation, when the stock in their cotton mills was selling at sixty-five per cent. above par and was paying heavy dividends. This conviction grew steadily among certain Southern States for four years, until a change in the tariff schedule brought one of them to open revolt.

A comparison of the votes on the tariff measures of 1816 and 1824 exhibits this sectional tendency. In 1816, a protective tariff in the House gained sixty-three Northern votes to fourteen against it. Eight years later there were eighty-eight votes for a higher tariff and nineteen opposed to it. If it had not been for the duty on canvas, Massachusetts would have viewed the measure favourably and would have made the vote one hundred to seven. The North was evidently beginning to appreciate the value of protection. The Southern members in the House, in 1816, stood less than two to one as opposed to protection. In 1824, they stood nearly four to one against the policy. The South was beginning to see that a tariff benefits the manufacturer of goods more than the producer of raw materials. The Senate shows this sectional bias even more clearly. The reversal of the vote of the Southern senators is particularly noticeable.

SENATE VOTES ON THE TARIFF MEASURES

1816 1824 Northern Senators /For........16......19 Against.....2.......6

Southern Senators /For.........9.......4 Against.....5......17

The advocates of the measure in the second debate made use of the national spirit as they had in the first. Clay's "American system," as the protective policy began to be called, was declared a remedy for the commercial depression under which the country suddenly found itself suffering. Petitions, asking such relief, poured into Congress. The economic conditions of Europe had become adjusted to peace, a condition which had not existed since the Constitution had been first put into execution. The United States began to realise the force of competition. The distress which prevailed in European countries a few years before was suddenly transferred to the United States. A barrier to keep out European goods and secure American interdependence seemed necessary.

Clay came down from the Speaker's chair to the floor of the House to plead his policy of home production and home consumption, a principle for which he had fought a duel in his early Kentucky days, when he had been pronounced a demagogue for advocating dressing in homespun. He was now accused by the opposition of aiming at a total prohibition of foreign goods regardless of the resulting distress to the consumer. "Protection in 1816 has grown to prohibition in 1824," exclaimed a speaker. "This is the consummation of the 'American policy,'" said Robert Y. Hayne, of South Carolina, whose brilliant oratory was making him the rival of Calhoun as the Southern spokesman. "A policy foreign in all its features, confessedly borrowed from Great Britain, and Chinese in its character, the policy of kings and tyrants, of restriction and monopoly." If Britain has at any time since complained of American protective policy, she must remember that it was inherited by British colonies, and was fostered by a desire to retaliate on her with her own methods before she became a freetrader.

The debates on tariff and public improvements of 1824 indicated a speedy termination of the era of good feeling and a return to some kind of political parties. This was to be accomplished not by a revival of the old Federalists and Republicans, but by a division in the ranks of the leaders. The Republicans, as has been pointed out in preceding pages, were so transformed as to be scarcely recognisable. Only an occasional veto and a conservative minority stood between old party principles and the desires of an expanding people and the demands of growing industries. The old Republicans were bewildered by the onward march of events under the hand of compulsion. Familiar landmarks had disappeared.

"We have our bank," complained one writer, "our standing army, our permanent navy, with all the officers, sub-officers, and their connections, ramified throughout the whole nation, all of which appears to me to be of a piece and in direct hostility with the liberties of the people. The people seem contented with the government's pursuing a policy which in 1800 caused a complete revolution."

The announcement of the Monroe doctrine and the culmination of "Americanism" were contemporary with the cessation of party spirit. The "era of good feeling," the millennium described by Washington in his farewell address, was at last realised. Monroe's second election had come within one electoral vote of being unanimous.

Such unanimity could not continue. Those who believe that parties are absolutely necessary; that men must have some means of alignment; that individual following will immediately take the place of dormant national issues, will find an excellent argument in this "era of good feeling," as well as in the ward "boss" of municipal politics. Strict construction was practically dead, destroyed by its impracticability. But individualism was still alive. In due time, when the commercial power of the Gulf States, or "lower South," should become dominant, it would reappear in the guise of "State rights," a doctrine dimly foreshadowed by the Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions, but not brought to a fruition by those border States.

On the other hand, it was equally true that Clay and the advocates of his system could never return to the close confines of a limited or individualistic government. A protective tariff and internal improvements supplemented each other. Clay's companion in measures, John Quincy Adams, was an apostate from Federalism, and never at ease in the strict-construction ranks. Inheritance and early training cannot be so readily overcome. These two statesmen, representing the old and the new, the North-east and the South-west, the college-bred lawyer and the country-bred orator, formed as strange a partnership under the banner of nationalism as has ever been witnessed.

In using the people to further his American system, Clay was following the tactics of his former chief, Jefferson, in the early days. But the Republicans maintained their way as stubbornly and ignored the people as persistently as the Federalists had done. If Clay had been Monroe's successor in 1824, a return toward centralisation must have inevitably followed. Supported by the people, he would have brought unification a long step forward. Unfortunately, when it came to political strength, Clay's people were confined to the Western section, where his efforts in their behalf had made him an idol. He was a legislative hero, so to speak. But there was a war hero, whose popularity was not measured so much by a section.

The battle of New Orleans had been the redeeming feature of the War of 1812, as has been stated. Jackson's popularity had been increased by his highhanded actions in the Floridas. Popular thought turned to him as a relief from the professional officeholders, such as Crawford, Clay, Adams, and Calhoun. Newspapers called attention to the fact that Jackson had once refused the governorship of East Florida. What offices had these other candidates for the Presidency ever refused? Jackson's friends rejoiced when Tennessee made him a Senator in 1824, since his residence in Washington would enable him to compete with his rivals, the professional office-holders.

The candidacy of Jackson for the Presidency in 1824 may truly be regarded as evidence of a coming revolt of the people of the West. It would have been strange if all this spirit of Americanism had not brought about a demand for more share in the Government. It was a part of that general movement for an extension of the suffrage which characterised the middle period, culminating in the Dorr Rebellion. In both the Carolinas and Maryland, a freehold of fifty acres of land or town lots was still required for complete suffrage. Rhode Island still admitted only a freeholder or his eldest son to citizenship. New York had only three years before abandoned property qualification for white men to vote and still demanded from negroes an estate of $250 for this inestimable privilege; so slowly did we slough off the inherited idea and ancient custom of being admitted to freemen's rights instead of being born into them.

The revolt of the people also showed itself in a demand for the right to nominate candidates and to choose electors for the presidential elections. Since the beginning of the Constitutional Government, many State Legislatures had assumed that right to themselves. "Each State shall appoint," says the Constitution, "in such manner as the Legislature thereof may direct, a number of electors." So late as 1820, six States still refused to allow the people to choose the electors and, consequently, the President. In five of the States where they were chosen by the people, voting was done by districts and in the remainder by a general ticket. Ever since the change in the manner of casting the electoral votes was made in 1804, attempts had been made either by an amendment to the Constitution or by national legislation, to secure a direct and unrestricted vote for the people. It was not fully accomplished until after the Civil War.

In selecting the candidates to be voted for, the people had still less power. After Washington's term, candidates had been selected by a caucus of members of Congress of each party called together at the seat of government. Since 1800, each President had been influential in bequeathing the office to his Secretary of State. Virginia, it was said, had thus been able to retain the Presidency for twenty out of the twenty-four years during which the Government under the Constitution had existed. Some claimed that Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe in the beginning held a conference and agreed upon a protracted retention of the chief executive position. New York was said to have assisted in this monopoly of the "mother of Presidents." It had been accomplished mainly through the caucus system and legislative election. Men like Hezekiah Niles, editor of the Register, now led a revolt against the "regency at Richmond," and the subordinate "regency at Albany." Niles claimed that the State Legislatures were created for the purpose of making laws and not for choosing presidential electors; that in some cases members were elected far in advance of the presidential election and could not possibly represent the present wish of the people. These reformers were unable to secure a popular nomination for presidential candidates in the election of 1824. Precedent and the office-holders were too strong. Nominations were made as before by congressional caucus and State Legislatures; but this agitation, dating directly from the rebirth of Americanism, bore full fruit within a score of years.