1 
 
 I
 
 AT LOS ANGELES 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 
 MAY TREAT MORRISON 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 ALEXANDER F MORRISON 
 
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 PRACTICAL ESSAYS 
 ON AMERICAN GOVERNMENT
 
 practical £00a^0 
 
 on 
 
 American (3ovcrnment 
 
 
 J 3»3>V| •3J3"» "JiJ^ 
 
 BY 
 
 ALBERT BUSHNELL HART, Ph.D. 
 
 OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY 
 
 Author of ^^Epoch Maps,'''' '■'•Formation of tJie Utiion,'''' " Intro 
 duction to the Study of Federal Government,'''' etc. 
 
 IRew lor?? 
 LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 
 
 1894 
 
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 Copyright, 1893, bv 
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 TROW DIRECTORY 
 
 PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
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 PREFACE. )\t.6J0J 
 
 These essays, with the exception of that on 
 the Chilean question, have been gathered up from 
 various periodicals in which they have appeared 
 during the last half dozen years. They are studies 
 of detached phases of the subject which most in- 
 terests the author — the actuaJ_working_o£^overr^^^ 
 ment in the United States. Perhaps the term 
 " practtcal:-e5Says"''~TTueds''^planation : 4 t_ means 
 "Ilb£-l]^^^:LlJ ?e essay s_aimjrat her to describe thing s 
 as the y are than to sngo-est what th ey ought to be. 
 
 ^ Yet in political affairs it is especially dif^cult to 
 get below the surface, and to distinguish effective 
 muscle and tendon from the inert matter which 
 surrounds them. I cannot hope to have avoided 
 mistakes which will be evident to those officially 
 • engaged in the public service. I have at least en- 
 
 ^ deavored to profit by the criticisms passed upon 
 
 o nie"^iTdtvTdT3aressays~aiThe]rappea have 
 
 brought them down to date, so far as new ma- 
 terial was accessible. 
 
 Acknowledgments are due to the editors and 
 
 ^ publishers of the Atlantic Monthly^ Forum, Politi- 
 cal Scieiice Quarterly, Neiv England Magadne, 
 Neiv Revieiv, Chautauquan, Quarterly Journal 
 of Economics, and Magazine of American History, 
 for their kind permission to reprint articles. 
 
 Albert Bushnell Hart. 
 
 Cambridge, July i, 1893. 
 
 (VI 
 DC 
 
 •% 
 
 in 

 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. The Speaker as Premier, i 
 
 Atlantic Monthly, March, 189I. 
 
 II. The Exercise of the Suffrage, 20 
 
 Political Science Quarterly, June, 1892. 
 
 III. The Election of a President, 58 
 
 New Review, November, 1892. 
 
 IV. Do the People wish Civil Service Reform ? . 81 
 
 Forwn, March, 1890, 
 V. The Chilean Controversy : A Study in Amer- 
 ican Diplomacy, 98 
 
 VI. The Colonial Town Meeting, 133 
 
 Chautauquan, November, 1891. 
 
 VII. The Colonial Shire, 147 
 
 Ckautauquan, December, 1891. 
 
 VIII. The Rise of American Cities, 162 
 
 Quarterly Jotinml of Economics, January, 1890. 
 IX. The Biography of a River and Harbor Bill, . 206 
 Magazine of American History, July, 1887 ; 
 Papers of the Atnerican Historical Association, 
 1888. 
 X. The Public Land Policy of the United States, 233 
 Quarterly Journal of Econo/iiics, January, 1887. 
 XI. Why the South was defeated in the Civil 
 
 War, 258 
 
 N'ew England Magazine, November, 189 1. 
 
 INDEX, 299
 
 1. 
 
 THE SPEAKER AS PREMIER. 
 
 During the last half dozen years American 
 newspapers have fallen into the habit, half jocose 
 and halt complimentary, of calling the Secretary 
 of State the Premier. At the same time, a small 
 and very earnest band of men have urged upon the 
 country the adoption of something resembling the 
 English parliamentary system, with a prime min- 
 ister at the head. Both the wits and the reform- 
 ers have failed to observe that there has actually 
 grown up within our system of government an 
 officer who possesses and exercises the most im- 
 portant powers entrusted to the head of the ad- 
 ministration of England. This insistence upon a 
 development which has not taken place, and neg- 
 lect to notice one of the most remarkable phenom- 
 ena of our constitutional growth, perhaps is due 
 to a confusion as to the real place and powers of 
 the English prime minister. I shall attempt, there- 
 fore, to set forth what he may do, and how far the 
 Speaker of the House of Representatives stands 
 in his place. 
 
 (I)
 
 iSeen^s on ©ovcrnment. 
 
 The English Premfe'r/oi- prime minister, — a 
 title unknown to the law,— is'the person acting as 
 the official head of the party, or combination of 
 parties, having a majority in the House of Com- 
 mons. There is no formal election. The Queen 
 summons the man whom she believes to be best 
 possessed of the confidence of his party ; and if he 
 succeed in inducing a suf^cient number of his fel- 
 low-members in either house to take office with 
 him, and if the other members of the party tacitly 
 accept the ministry thus formed, the Premier re- 
 mains in power until he is no longer able to com- 
 mand a majority in the Commons. The popular 
 title of Premier is well applied, since its possessor 
 is at the same time the head of the executive 
 power of the nation and the leader of Parliament. 
 In the first capacity he is responsible for the acts 
 of all his colleagues, unless he disavows them. 
 He takes counsel with the other ministers, and 
 their resolutions upon certain subjects of detail 
 have, under the name of Orders in Council, the 
 force of law. The foreign policy of the nation, 
 the maintenance of internal peace, the execution 
 of laws, are subject to the ministry, and in the ac- 
 tion of the ministry he must lead, or lose prestige. 
 
 The second great function of the Premier is that 
 of leader of Parliament. The ministry bring for- 
 ward a series of government propositions, which 
 have precedence over bills introduced directly by 
 private members. Not only are the important
 
 Zbc Speaker as ipremfcr. 
 
 bills introduced by the ministry; the order in 
 which they shall be brought forward and pressed 
 to a vote is also decided by the ministry, who 
 form, therefore, practically a committee of both 
 houses on a legislative programme. The Pre- 
 mier is usually one of the best debaters in Parlia- 
 ment, able to defend his ministry against criticism 
 upon their executive action and against attack 
 upon their bills. Should the House of Commons 
 at any time refuse to accept a government meas- 
 ure upon which the ministry insist, or should it 
 adopt a different order of business from that laid 
 down as a government programme, the ministry, 
 by long-established custom, must immediately re- 
 sign. 
 
 Under the American system of government, the 
 two functions of the English ministry are also ex- 
 ercised ; but by the deliberate action of the fram- 
 ers of the Constitution those duties are divided. 
 Whether or no the parliamentary system is better 
 than our own, it is certainly precluded by the Con- 
 stitution as it stands, and does not obtain in any 
 State of the Union. The executive duties per- 
 formed in England by the Premier, in the United 
 States are performed by the President. The Sec- 
 retary of State is constitutionally a subordinate of 
 the President, and stands upon the same footing 
 as the other cabinet ministers, with the single 
 exception that by the act of 1886 he is the first 
 named in the succession to the presidency, in case
 
 message on Government. 
 
 of lapse through the death or disability of both 
 President and Vice-President. By long-estab- 
 lished custom he is usually, although not invari- 
 ably, a recognized leader of the party to which the 
 President belongs. It is the President, however, 
 through whom the unity of the administration is 
 preserved ; it is the President alone who can de- 
 cide between conflicting policies or conflicting acts 
 of his secretaries. Not only has Congress no 
 power to interfere with the acts of the President 
 or to cause his resignation ; it cannot cause the 
 dismissal of any of his secretaries or their subor- 
 dinates. On the other hand, the President and 
 his secretaries have no powers of control or direc- 
 tion over either house of Congress. In accordance 
 with an early and unfortunate custom, all com- 
 munications between the cabinet ministers and 
 Congress are made in writing. One day in Au- 
 gust, 1789, President Washington appeared in the 
 Senate with General Knox, the Secretary of War, 
 and announced that the latter would explain to 
 the Senate a scheme of Indian treaties. The Sen- 
 ate, uneasy at the presence both of President and 
 Secretary, referred the matter to a committee. 
 Knox returned alone, a few days later ; but since 
 that time it does not appear that any cabinet 
 officer has been heard in either house ; and since 
 1 801 the Presidents have made their communica- 
 tions in writing. Secretary Blaine is reported to 
 have said that he would give two years of his life
 
 ^be Speaker as fircmfcr. 5 
 
 for an opportunity to debate in Congress a meas- 
 ure which he considered of prime importance. A 
 rule of either house would at any time establish 
 the custom of listening to ministers, and would 
 thus prevent much jarring and disharmony. 
 Neither house has ever shown any disposition to 
 pass such a rule. 
 
 The congressional system has led to a great 
 practical inconvenience. At the beginning both 
 houses were small : the House had but fifty-three 
 members, the Senate but twenty-two. They legis- 
 lated for a people of four millions, for the most 
 part in agricultural communities. The Senate 
 now has eighty-eight members, the House three 
 hundred and fifty-six. They represent a people 
 of sixty-seven millions, with many varied interests. 
 The subjects of legislation have, therefore, steadily 
 increased, and the quantity of legislation has grown 
 even in greater proportion. In Washington's first 
 administration, 1789-93, 196 acts were presented 
 for the President's signature; in Cleveland's first 
 administration, 1885-89, about 3,700 acts went 
 through both houses of Congress and were sub- 
 mitted for executive approval. This enormous 
 mass of legislation has taxed to the utmost the 
 digestive powers of Congress. Measures of great 
 public moment have failed to be considered, or 
 have failed to pass, on account of the confusion 
 and crush of public business ; and the closing 
 days of each Congress have witnessed scenes of
 
 Bssa^s en Government. 
 
 reckless voting on measures hardly read or not un- 
 derstood, which must be carried through within a 
 few hours or fail altogether. An examination of 
 the statute books shows that in the administra- 
 tions of Hayes and Arthur about one-fifth of the 
 acts of Congress received the President's signature 
 in the last three days of the final sessions ; in 
 Cleveland's first administration about one-ninth. 
 President Arthur signalized the last three days of 
 his term by signing 217 bills. President Cleve- 
 land, on INIarch i and 2, 1889, signed 162 bills. 
 
 Very early in the history of Congress it was seen 
 that it was impossible for the House as a body to 
 examine all the bills submitted. In the Conti- 
 nental Congress and the Confederation there had 
 already been established a system of select and 
 standing committees for the consideration of spe- 
 cial branches of legislation, and for the preparation 
 of bills. For instance, the celebrated Northwest 
 Ordinance of 1787 was reported by a select com- 
 mittee. As the system of responsible ministers 
 was not adopted, and as the houses deliberately 
 chose to deprive themselves of the presence and 
 voices of the President's advisers, the committee 
 system was continued without much consideration. 
 For many years business Avas assigned usually to 
 select committees. The first standing committee 
 of the House was formed in 1789; in 1 812 there 
 were but nine. As the business of Congress in- 
 creased, the number of the committees increased
 
 ^be Speaher as ipuemicr. 
 
 in like ratio. There are, in 1893, forty-nine stand- 
 ing committees in the House and forty-four in the 
 Senate ; besides twenty-five so-called select com- 
 mittees, which do not essentially differ from the 
 standing committees. Each Congress frames its 
 own rules, but it is usual to adopt the classifica- 
 tion of committees which has already been found 
 convenient. Those members who are re-elected 
 are likely again to receive appointment to the 
 committees on which they have served in the pre- 
 vious Congresses. In this way there is established 
 a certain continuity of service and of position. 
 The chairmen of the committees and the majority 
 of the members of each committee are always of 
 the dominant party. So important is the com- 
 mittee work considered that there is a fierce strife 
 among the members to secure valued appoint- 
 ments, and men have often won great reputation 
 as successful administrators in important commit- 
 tees. Thus the late Samuel J. Randall was for 
 many years chairman of the powerful Committee 
 on Appropriations. 
 
 Although the business of Congress and the 
 number and complexity of the committees have 
 increased, the number of days in the year has re- 
 mained constant. The committees have learned 
 by long experience that a measure upon which 
 they have spent much time in the perfection of 
 details may at last fail for simple want of consid- 
 eration in one of the houses. There is, therefore,
 
 8 'Bssn^6 on (Bovernmcnt. 
 
 a constant and increasing strife between the chair- 
 men of committees for the possession of the floor 
 and the opportunity to report their bills, although 
 they are members of the same party, and usually 
 not unfriendly to each other. The result is that 
 a very appreciable portion of the time, especially 
 of the House of Representatives, is spent in fight- 
 insr for the floor. One committee and its meas- 
 ures stands in the way of another, and it is nearly 
 impossible for the House to select between two 
 rival measures that which it desires to consider 
 first. When sweeping measures are reported, in- 
 volving great party principles, and likely to affect 
 approaching elections, Congress usually spends a 
 considerable part of its time in discussing which 
 shall be discussed. Days may pass without any 
 appreciable advance in the business of the houses. 
 The sixty committees have their own interests and 
 their own favorite projects, which seem larger to 
 them than great party measures. The result is 
 confusion, waste of time, failure to consider bills, 
 and a consequent legislative stampede at the end 
 of the session, in which the good and deserving 
 measures, in which the House is sincerely inter- 
 ested, are more apt to be trampled down than 
 private measures, urged by a few persistent mem- 
 bers. 
 
 With all its evils, the committee system in two 
 ways relieves the House from the pressure of 
 legislation. In the first place, no bill can be con-
 
 c:be Speaker as ipremfer. 
 
 sidered without having passed through a commit- 
 tee and having been reported by it. The result is 
 the strangling of eight-tenths of the bills presented 
 to Congress. In the Fiftieth Congress, 1887-89, 
 there were introduced into the House no less than 
 12,933 bills and joint resolutions. Of these, 9,632 
 were never heard of again after having been re- 
 ferred to a committee, leaving 3,301 which received 
 some sort of consideration. Only 1,605 passed the 
 House, and of these only 1,385 passed the Senate. 
 Nearly nine-tenths of the bills introduced had thus 
 failed at some stage before presentation for the 
 President's signature. The pigeon-holes of the 
 committees are the resting-places of many thou- 
 sands of unfledged measures. In the second place, 
 the committees digest and arrange the details of 
 measures, and many important bills, especially 
 those correcting defects found in the working of 
 the government, go through Congress substan- 
 tially as reported by the committees. It is here 
 that the cabinet ministers exercise their only di- 
 rect influence on legislation. They appear before 
 the committees, urge and explain particular meas- 
 ures, and not infrequently submit drafts of bills, 
 which are accepted almost verbatim by the com- 
 mittee, and afterward by Congress. The great 
 dififlculty has been the lack of some institution to 
 unify legislation. The bill reported by Committee 
 B might unwittingly repeal the bill passed yester- 
 day on report of Committee A; or the House is
 
 10 lEssa^s on (Bovernment. 
 
 called upon to spend its brief and valuable time 
 in settling questions in dispute between commit- 
 tees — questions upon which an agreement ought 
 to have been reached before any report was ren- 
 dered. 
 
 That some relief must be obtained from such 
 confusion and perplexity statesmen have long 
 agreed. They have not seen so clearly that, by 
 a process of silent development, there was being 
 evolved a power which could simplify and unify the 
 legislative process. That power is the Speaker, 
 and he has reached his present importance by the 
 absorption, based on the consent of the House, of 
 six successive sets of powers. 
 
 The first Speaker, chosen in 1789, was simply a 
 moderator. His duty was like that of other pre- 
 siding officers — to apply the rules of the House so 
 as to give the fairest opportunity of discussion, 
 and to permit the freest expression of the will of 
 the House. The Speakers of some of the colonial 
 assemblies had been distinctly party leaders ; and 
 after national parties were organized — that is, from 
 about 1793 — the Speakers were chieftains of great 
 influence in their party, but they still felt them- 
 selves simply to be moderators. 
 
 The second access of power came through the 
 appointment of committees. The House for one 
 year tried the experiment, which the Senate has 
 successfully carried on to the present day, of choos- 
 ing committees by ballot; but in January, 1790,
 
 Zbc Speaker as ipreinlev. n 
 
 they voted to give this power to the Speaker. 
 So long as the number of committees was small 
 and committee positions were little sought for, 
 this was still rather an administrative than a po- 
 litical power. As committee government grew, 
 the power of the Speaker to give opportunities of 
 distinction to his party friends also increased. By 
 about 1840 the great influence of the committees 
 was distinctly recognized : first in shaping legisla- 
 tion ; and then in preventing legislation, by refus- 
 ing to report bills to which the committee was op- 
 posed, but which the House might have approved. 
 The Speaker began to assert a control over legis- 
 lation through his power to appoint committees. 
 Thus, in the choice of Speaker in 1849, a candi- 
 date who was on the point of being chosen lost 
 the election, because it appeared that he had 
 promised to constitute certain committees to the 
 dissatisfaction of some of his party. The principle 
 once completely established made the Speaker 
 next in dignity and power to the President. He 
 could decide at the beginning of the session what 
 measures should not be brought to the attention 
 of Congress ; and he could have great influence, 
 through the committees, in the preliminary shap- 
 ing of the measures which would be submitted. 
 There were, however, two practical restrictions 
 upon this power : it was to be exercised not for 
 his personal advantage and advancement so much 
 as for the party which made him Speaker ; and the
 
 12 36633^3 on Government. 
 
 members of the committees, once appointed, felt 
 no direct sense of responsibility to the Speaker, 
 and thus might report measures to which he was 
 personally opposed. 
 
 The period of the civil war did much to 
 strengthen the powers of Congress at the expense 
 of other departments ; it also gave to the Speaker 
 greater opportunities, both through the appoint- 
 ment of committees and through personal influ- 
 ence. The speakership became more and more 
 desirable, not only for itself, but because it was an 
 avenue to the presidency. Speaker Colfax was 
 chosen Vice-President in 1868. His successor. 
 Speaker Blaine, became a candidate for the nomi- 
 nation in 1876. But the third development of the 
 Speaker's power rose rather out of the increasing 
 pressure for the " floor ; " that is, for the opportu- 
 nity to take part in debate. There had been many 
 cases in the history of Congress where members 
 had been silenced, or the attempt had been made 
 to silence them, by the infliction of some disci- 
 pline. Such were the attempted censures of John 
 Quincy Adams in 1832, 1837, and 1842. The 
 rules had often been interpreted so as to cut off an 
 obnoxious debater, as in the case of the first great 
 abolition speech in Congress, in December, 1837. 
 Somewhere between 1880 and 1890 there grew up 
 the practice of the Speaker's refusing to recognize 
 members because they had some propositions to 
 bring forward obnoxious to his party. When, in
 
 XLbc Speaker as ipremter. 13 
 
 1887, a member wrote to Speaker Carlisle, asking 
 that he might be recognized to move a repeal of 
 the tobacco tax, the Speaker replied that he could 
 not consent to entertain a motion against which 
 the caucus of the party having a majority in the 
 House had pronounced itself. The Speaker as- 
 sumed the right, sanctioned by precedent, to re- 
 fuse to permit a hearing for a proposition contrary 
 to the principles of his party. The history of the 
 session shows that the minority was free to intro- 
 duce propositions and amendments, and that the 
 restriction was not invariably applied to members 
 of the majority. The principle which Mr. Carlisle 
 seems to lay down is that the Speaker is a party 
 chief, bound, so far as members of his own party 
 are concerned, to carry out the policy accepted by 
 the party in caucus or by general agreement. Mr. 
 Carlisle expressed his purpose more openly than 
 any of his predecessors had done. The power was 
 a familiar one, and has since been regularly exer- 
 cised. 
 
 From this point there is but a short step to the 
 fourth advance, the practice of refusing to recog- 
 nize members because they are personally obnox- 
 ious to the Speaker. During the last thirty years 
 members have sometimes sat through an entire 
 session, or even through two sessions of Congress, 
 without ever being able to catch the Speaker's 
 eye. Their only opportunity has been that of 
 presenting bills on the call by States, or of discus-
 
 14 iSesti^s on (Sovcrnment. 
 
 sion in committees. At the adjournment of Con- 
 gress in 1887, a member from Nebraska, who had 
 a bill for a public building in his district, and who 
 could not obtain the Speaker's recognition, walked 
 for two hours up and down in front of the desk, 
 entreating, cajoling, and ejaculating, and in the 
 end tore his bill into fragments, and deposited 
 them as a protest at the Speaker's feet. In all 
 formal discussions, no member, with the excep- 
 tion of the accepted party leaders, need expect to 
 be heard unless he has previously requested the 
 Speaker to recognize him ; and arbitrary Speak- 
 ers do not hesitate to deny the applications of men 
 whom they personally dislike. 
 
 Side by side with these successive developments 
 has grown up a fifth undefined but effective power 
 of the Speaker. By his power to state questions, 
 to decide points of order, to control the formal 
 business of the House, as well as by his immense 
 personal influence, the Speaker has practically ac- 
 quired a veto on any proposition brought to the 
 attention of the House. The first precaution of a 
 canny member is to assure himself that the Speak- 
 er will not oppose his bill; if that assurance can- 
 not be obtained, either directly or through the 
 influence of other members, there is practically no 
 hope of securing its passage. 
 
 The powers of the Speaker thus developed, as 
 moderator, as party chief, as the appointer of com- 
 mittees, as the dispenser of the right of taking
 
 XLbc Speaker as ipremiei. i5 
 
 part in debate, and as possessor of a veto power, 
 have made the Speaker's place more and more 
 important, and more and more desired. But his 
 authority has been negative rather than positive ; 
 the Speaker could prevent legislation, but he could 
 secure none without a majority of the House. The 
 Speaker might deny the floor, but he seldom occu- 
 pied it. Henry Clay, the most distinguished and 
 popular Speaker of the House, who was six times 
 elected, and never had one of his decisions re- 
 versed, was accustomed to take active part in the 
 debate. This practice has now become very rare. 
 The Speaker has, however, had a large share in 
 determining the policy of his party in caucus, and 
 in holding the party to that policy. His power 
 of appointing to committees has made his favor 
 desirable. His prestige as Speaker, when backed 
 by personal qualities of character and leadership, 
 has made him by far the most important figure 
 in Congress, and the second figure in the nation. 
 The abler Speakers have had within their own 
 party a political influence and predominance quite 
 comparable with the party position of the English 
 Premier, 
 
 The sixth and most important step in welding 
 together the powers of the Speaker and in correct- 
 ing the defects of the congressional system has 
 been taken within the past few years. The 
 Speaker, and a few other eminent members from 
 his own party, have been constituted, by the con-
 
 lo lEssa^s on ©overnmcnt. 
 
 sent of that party, an informal committee to de- 
 cide upon an order of business. The commission 
 of the Speaker rests simply upon the fact that he 
 has been chosen by the members of his party in 
 the House as their legislative leader. Without 
 precisely intending to create a new or a more pow- 
 erful authority, the recent majorities have thus 
 committed themselves to the practice of entrust- 
 ing to a small body, in which the Speaker must be 
 the predominant member, the direction not only 
 of the policy of the party, but of the legislation of 
 the House. The step is in no way connected 
 with the peculiar principles either of the Republi- 
 can or of the Democratic party. It is a natural 
 and a desirable solution of the dif^culties which 
 have long beset Congress. The Committee on 
 Rules, which now exercises this power, is made 
 up of the Speaker and four associates, of whom 
 two belong to the minority, and are practically 
 excluded even from the routine business of the 
 committee. The code of rules for the immediate 
 government of the House, which that com.mittee 
 pressed in 1890 and which has been the subject of 
 so much discussion, is the least interesting part of 
 its work, because it had no necessary force after 
 the expiration of the Fifty-first Congress. The 
 important and the permanent service of that com- 
 mittee was to point out a way in which the major- 
 ity in Congress may present in succession those 
 measures upon which it desires to have a vote.
 
 tibc Speaker as ipiemier. i7 
 
 The committee is superior to all other standing 
 committees in Congress, because it expresses the 
 general will of the party as to whether the work 
 of those standing committees shall or shall not be 
 brought to the attention of the House. The man 
 who controls or is most powerful in that commit- 
 tee is, therefore, a recognized political chief, a for- 
 mulator of the policy of the party, a legislative 
 Premier. That man is the Speaker. 
 
 The parallel between the English and the 
 American Premiers is, of course, by no means 
 exact. In the first place, our Speaker is powerful 
 only in the House, while the Premier, through his 
 majority in the House of Commons, may, and fre- 
 quently does, overawe the House of Lords, The 
 Senate is not bound to recognize the leadership of 
 the Speaker of the House of Representatives ; but 
 even here there is an evident convenience in hav- 
 ing a party chief, capable of laying down a policy 
 of successive measures and of urging those meas- 
 ures through. Whenever hereafter the two houses 
 are controlled by the same party, it is probable 
 that some junto, of which the Speaker is the lead- 
 ing member, will arrange a programme of legisla- 
 tion for both houses. A second difference is that 
 the Speaker is chosen for a definite term of two 
 years, unless by vote compelled sooner to resign ; 
 but parties in the United States are much more 
 stable than in England ; the party which elects the 
 Speaker invariably holds its majority to the end 
 
 2
 
 1 8 Bseags on ©oveinnicut. 
 
 of that Congress. Nothing, therefore, but the dis- 
 regard of the wish of his own followers is likely to 
 destroy the Speaker's power ; and when his fol- 
 lowers no longer stand by him, his position is 
 much like that of the Premier against whom the 
 House of Commons has passed a vote of want of 
 confidence. The Speaker must resign, and his 
 political influence will be destroyed. The execu- 
 tive part of the Premier's power is not within 
 reach of the Speaker ; but if the tradition of party 
 action through the Speaker continues, the general 
 policy of the party will be formed so as to include 
 executive action. A President who wishes to 
 stand well with his party is likely to aid in carry- 
 ing out the programme arranged by the junto of 
 which the Speaker is the leading member. 
 
 This most recent addition to the Speaker's 
 power has not been conferred by the recent vote 
 of the House in adopting rules, and in fact is not 
 expressed in the Constitution, in the acts of Con- 
 gress, or in the rules of the House. It is a natural 
 growth, and part of the tendency throughout the 
 national, state, and municipal systems to put re- 
 sponsibility upon individuals rather than upon 
 boards. It is a wholesome reaction from a di- 
 vided irresponsibility and a wasteful system of con- 
 ducting the business of legislation. It secures at 
 least the consideration of the measures held by the 
 leaders of the majority to be most important. 
 Those measures may or may not be for the public
 
 Xlbc Speaficr as ipremfer. 19 
 
 good ; but under the new system the public has 
 a better opportunity to place responsibility upon 
 those members of Congress who, under any sys- 
 tem, must control its operations, namely, the great 
 leaders of the majority. The system is, therefore, 
 likely to be continued in principle, if not in the 
 same form, by each party when in the majority. 
 The powers now exercised by the Speaker will 
 probably be exercised by each succeeding Speaker, 
 and will somewhat increase. Since the legislative 
 department in every republic constantly tends to 
 gain ground at the expense of the executive, the 
 Speaker is likely to become, and perhaps is already, 
 more powerful, both for good and for evil, than 
 the President of the United States. He is Pre- 
 mier in legislation ; it is the business of his party 
 that he be also Premier in character, in ability, in 
 leadership, and in statesmanship.
 
 IT. 
 
 THE EXERCISE OF THE SUFFRAGE. 
 
 In the rivalry between the practical man and 
 the critic in political matters, the latter seems just 
 now to be attracting most attention ; the man of 
 affairs, who makes the best of institutions as he 
 finds them, has not the same degree of public con- 
 fidence that he had forty years ago, when the 
 favorite theme of the orator v/as the perfection 
 of the American system of free government. 
 Ever since the end of Reconstruction there has 
 been a most useful class of public-spirited men, 
 sometimes in politics and sometimes outside, 
 who have pointed out defects and suggested im- 
 provements. They have held the place which 
 the prophets took in Hebrew history : their mis- 
 sion not to govern, but to arouse; their cry of 
 " Woe unto them that are at ease in Zion ! " has 
 aroused the ill-will of the slothful, and has brought 
 upon the critics the accusation of disloyalty to 
 American institutions ; but they have persevered, 
 and to them is due the great success of two re- 
 forms. The first is the firm establishment of the 
 
 (20)
 
 j£icvci6c of tbe Suffrage. 21 
 
 merit system ia the public service under the na- 
 tional government, which has been effected, not 
 by administrators wishing to improve their office, 
 but rather by the enlightened insistence of private 
 citizens, acting on Congress. The second reform, 
 which has had much more aid from men in politi- 
 cal life, has restored the lost secret ballot to most 
 of the states. 
 
 So aroused are the people by these two great 
 achievements, that any reasonable suggestion of 
 improvement in political methods finds a hearing. 
 Everywhere spring up schemes of minority repre- 
 sentation, of election of senators or presidential elec- 
 tors by direct vote, of further limitations on legis- 
 latures. The suffrage — the manner of its exercise 
 and its protection — is particularly inviting for such 
 suggestions, since it is everywhere the subject of 
 laws, constitutional or statutory; to improve the 
 suffrage by making it more truly representative, is 
 to rebuild the political structure on a better foun- 
 dation. One plan, which has been very much dis- 
 cussed since it was suggested by Governor Hill, 
 of New York, in 1889, is that of the so-called "com- 
 pulsory voting." ' This remedy seems so easy, its 
 
 ^ See the governor's messages for 1SS9 and 1890 ; also the re- 
 port of Judge Havves to the Republican Club, of New York, in the 
 Daily Continent, March 2, 189 1 ; a pamphlet by Edward M. Shep- 
 ard, entitled "Compulsory Voting" (1891) ; an article with the 
 same title by F. W. Hqlls, in the Annals of the American Acad- 
 emy, April, 1891 ; and an editorial in The Nation, April 28, 
 1892.
 
 22 iBssn^s on Government. 
 
 effect is described as so likely to heal the evils of 
 American politics, that it seems ungracious to 
 cling to the present system. Government in the 
 United States, it is alleged, is a government of the 
 minority : the minority of the voters elect the rep- 
 resentatives ; and a very small minority of this suc- 
 cessful minority designate the candidates. What 
 more natural than to pass a law which will cause 
 the people to resume their control ? If a consid- 
 erable proportion of the voters do not exercise 
 their right of suffrage, why not put a legal press- 
 ure upon them, to compel them to take the re- 
 sponsibility on their own shoulders? Then will 
 the American system again become a " government 
 of the people, by the people and for the people." 
 
 This suggestion, if analyzed, will be found to 
 rest on three premises : that abstention from vot- 
 ing is a political danger, and a danger which in- 
 creases ; that a government may properly require 
 an expression of opinion from its people ; and that 
 compulsion will correct the evils of neglect of vot- 
 ing. Not one of these premises is beyond dispute ; 
 they are all matters not so much of theory as of 
 experience and of probability based on experience. 
 A careful examination of the available facts will 
 show that the evil is much less than has been as- 
 sumed ; that suffrage is a thing which ought not 
 to be imposed, under any government ; and that 
 the effect of compulsion would be small, and rather 
 against than favorable to good government.
 
 lEjercise of tbe Suffrage. 23 
 
 Considering the money that is spent on statisti- 
 cal inquiry and the importance of the subject, it 
 ought to be easy to find out how many persons 
 are entitled to the suffrage in the United States, 
 and then to compare it with the known number of 
 those who vote. The process is, however, much 
 like that of the astronomer who spends most of 
 his time in eliminating causes of error and deter- 
 mining the personal equation of his observers ; 
 and some of the results must rest on estimates. 
 The Massachusetts census of 1885 ' does contain 
 an official statement for that State ; the eleventh 
 national census has now furnished an important 
 enumeration of men of voting age, native and 
 foreign, in 1890;^ and the publications of the ear- 
 lier United States censuses abound in figures out 
 of which some of the necessary data may be com- 
 puted or inferred. At the end of this essay will 
 be found a tabulation of facts derived from these 
 sources. Perhaps a study of the effect of condi- 
 tions and exclusions on the suffrage will furnish 
 the best basis for later arguments. 
 
 The most convenient point of comparison is a 
 presidential election ; here the votes are larger 
 
 ' Census of Massachusetts, 1885, Population and Social Statis- 
 tics, I., 103-I13 ; H. G. Wadlin, Citizens and Aliens, reprint from 
 Nineteenth Annual Report of the Massachusetts Bureau of Statis- 
 tics of Labor, 121-225. 
 
 ^ Census Bulletins, No. 175, April 8, 1892 ; No, 202, August 13, 
 1892.
 
 24 Bssags on Government. 
 
 than at other times, and it is easier to obtain aver- 
 > age results. A particularly serviceable election is 
 that of 1880, which fell in a census 3'ear, and thus 
 gives a more exact basis of comparison.' The 
 population of the United States in that year was 
 50,153,783. From this number we must make 
 many successive deductions before we reach the 
 number of qualified voters. First must come out 
 the whole population of the territories and of the 
 District of Columbia. The remainder is 49,371,- 
 340. Of this number not quite half must be de- 
 ducted for the women. In 1880 they had no vote 
 in general elections in any State ; nor does Wy- 
 oming now add more than 15,000 female voters.^ 
 The limited suffrage now granted to women in 
 local matters in various forms by twenty-nine 
 States does not affect the figures for presidential 
 elections. Out of the 25,075,619 males in the 
 States, a little less than half, 12,568,891, were 
 twenty-one years of age or more ; the minors are 
 of course everywhere excluded. The twelve and 
 a half millions of possible voters constitute a trifle 
 over one-fourth of the population. Next to the 
 age qualification comes that of citizenship. Exact 
 figures are not here attainable, since the census of 
 1880 does not distinguish Chinese from negroes in 
 
 'Tenth Census, I., passim. 
 
 ^ The population of Wyoming in 1890 was 60, 705. Of these, 
 21,362 were women ; and of the women perhaps two-thirds are of 
 voting age.
 
 Bjerclee of tbc Sutfraee. 25 
 
 its tables on this subject ; but a close estimate of 
 this irregularity is possible, and can be but a few 
 thousands out of the way.' There appear to have 
 been in the States 3,056,000 foreign-born adults in 
 1880. The remainder, 9,512,891, are born citizens 
 of the United States and are all capable of voting 
 except as hereinafter specified. Of the foreign- 
 born men a very large number are naturalized 
 citizens. Upon this subject we have the results 
 of the Census investigation of 1890, which shows 
 the number naturalized to be 58.6 per cent, of the 
 total number of foreign-born men. The propor- 
 tions vary from State to State. Wherever the Irish 
 or Germans are numerous, naturalizations are fre- 
 quent. The minimum is 36.5 per cent, in Ver- 
 mont ; the maximum is 75.9 per cent, in Indiana.' 
 
 ' Tenth Census, I., 647. The white foi'eign-born male adults in 
 the States were 2,984,041 ; to tliis should be added an estimate of 
 71,959 adult Chinamen in the States. The minor Chinese popu- 
 lation is not summarized in the table. 
 
 ^ Eleventh Census Bulletin, Nos. 175,202. It is impossible to feel 
 entire confidence in these figures. The first question of the enume- 
 rator, after ascertaining that a man was foreign-born, was ; "Are 
 you naturalized ? " Tlie tendency to answer " Yes " to such a ques- 
 tion, and the inconvenience of any other answer for a man who 
 had exercised or claimed rights reserved for citizens, both tend to 
 increase the " natui^alized " column. On the other hand there is 
 a serious variance between the figures for Massachusetts as shown 
 by a careful State census of 18S5 (48.5 per cent.) and the United 
 States figures of 1890, which show only 46.1 per cent, for 1890. 
 The impression in the State has been that naturalization has much 
 increased. Compare Bulletin No. 202, pp. 19, 20, with Wadlin, 
 Citizens and Aliens, 128.
 
 26 jEssa^a on (Bovernment. 
 
 On the other hand several races are indisposed to 
 seek naturalization : the 107,000 Chinese are not 
 permitted to become citizens ; the British Ameri- 
 cans, English, Italians, French Canadians, and Por- 
 tuguese naturalize very slowly ; probably the same 
 might be said of the Hungarians, Poles, and Bohe- 
 mians. Nevertheless the Massachusetts proportion 
 is below rather than above the average ; although 
 the fact that naturalization is necessary before a 
 man can vote should stimulate naturalization in 
 that State. If the proportion of naturalized for- 
 eigners in 1880 was as great as in 1890, Ave must 
 add 1,787,000 to the list of voters. In addition to 
 this million and three-quarters of persons who, in 
 1880, had thus shown their attachment to the con- 
 stitution, there was a body of aliens who, by the 
 laws of the State in which they resided, were en- 
 titled to vote because they had filed their declara- 
 tion of intention to become citizens. A careful es- 
 timate puts the number at less than 100,000.' The 
 former exclusions because of race no longer prevail, 
 except that Chinese are expressly excluded in Ore- 
 gon and California ; but as Chinamen born in this 
 country are insignificant in number, the exclusions 
 necessitate no additional deduction. 
 
 ' The white foreign-born adults in the fifteen States allowing the 
 practice were 874,834 in number. Of these about 511,000 have 
 been included under the previous allowance for naturalization. 
 The number of declarants in the fifteen States in 1890, was 123, ■ 
 774 ; in 1880, it may have been 90,000.
 
 jEjcrclse of tbe Suffrage. 27 
 
 As to the three classes of legal voters — native 
 born, naturalized, and declarants — the relative pro- 
 portions vary much from State to State. None of 
 the eastern coast States admits declarants to the 
 suffrage ; but the proportion of foreigners to the 
 whole population is so much greater in these 
 States, and especially in the cities, that the num- 
 ber of foreign voters is often alarming. Only a 
 seventh of the people of the United States are for- 
 eign born ; but of the men of voting age more than 
 one-fourth are foreigners ; and as long ago as 1875, 
 sixty-five per cent, of the adult men in New York 
 City were foreign born. The proportion of men in 
 middle life and above is even more startling. Of 
 five hundred men above thirty-five whom the 
 New Yorker meets while crossing City Hall Park 
 any day, four hundred are certainly foreigners 
 born. 
 
 Eleven million three hundred and eighty-nine 
 thousand eight hundred and ninety-one persons 
 w^xQ prima facie entitled to the suffrage in 1880; 
 but out of this number large deductions must be 
 made for classes of persons disqualified by various 
 State laws. The effect of these exclusions is no- 
 where summed up, but it may be inferred from 
 the Massachusetts census of 1885, in which some 
 of the items are set down for that State, and from 
 the recent bulletins of the eleventh census. First 
 come disqualifications based on property or nat- 
 ural conditions. There were 4,129 adult males in
 
 28 j£0sa^0 on (Boveinmeut. 
 
 Massachusetts in 1885 who were paupers.' In 
 many States there is no legal restriction on paupers 
 votine ; and the total disfranchisement for this 
 cause cannot exceed 60,000. The actual posses- 
 sion of property is no longer a condition of voting 
 anywhere in the Union.'' In 1880 it still affected 
 foreign-born persons in Rhode Island, and may 
 have cut off 5,000 votes. A tax qualification stood 
 in the constitutional laws of six States in 1880, 
 and may have prevented 50,000 votes. It now ap- 
 pears only in Delaware and Florida. Throughout 
 the country the tendency is to require no property 
 qualification, not even the ability to support one's 
 self or to live without appeal to public charity. 
 
 It is otherwise with the moral and intellectual 
 limitations on the suffrage. Prisoners in their 
 cells cannot enjoy the educating influence of the 
 ballot ; and there were at least 60,000 such in 
 1880.'' State constitutions usually disqualify per- 
 sons from voting if they have committed infamous 
 crimes ; in practice the restriction has very little 
 effect; an allowance of 15,000 for persons whose 
 votes would be refused from this cause is ample. 
 Then comes the considerable class of insane. The 
 
 ' This number is taken from a calculation made for this essay 
 under direction of Mr. Wadlin. 
 
 ^ Except in municipal elections in Providence, Rhode Island. 
 
 ^ The number of adult prisoners in Massachusetts in 1885 was 
 2,950, according to special figures furnished by Mr. Wadlin. Wit- 
 nesses and others under detention would increase the proportion.
 
 Eixrctse of tbc Suffrage. 29 
 
 number of adult men in asylums in 1880 was prob- 
 ably not far from 40,000/ besides many thousands 
 of defective and weak-minded persons. A much 
 more important mental disqualification unfortu- 
 nately has not yet been widely applied ; illiterate 
 persons were in 1880 excluded only in Massachu- 
 setts and Connecticut. The effect was to debar 
 from the suffrage about 35,000 persons/ The 
 clause of the new Mississippi constitution, requir- 
 ing the voter to be able " to read the State consti- 
 tution, or to give a reasonable interpretation of it 
 when read to him," is likely to be a model for 
 other States, and thus to increase this kind of dis- 
 franchisement. 
 
 Another legal disqualification is brought very 
 effectively into operation by the constant move- 
 ment of population in the United States. In 
 order to vote, a man must have resided in the 
 State for a period varying from three months to 
 two years ; and in the district in which he votes a 
 specified number of days or weeks. To say that 
 one voter in a hundred has not acquired a voting 
 residence in the district where he lives is an under- 
 statement. An allowance of 1 10,000 will not 
 cover the number who thus actually lost their vote 
 in 1880. 
 
 ' Eleventh Census, Bulletin No. 62. 
 
 ' Wadlin in his Citizens and Aliens, p. 128, shows in Massa- 
 chusetts 26,212 "polls, not voters." Of these 22,000 may be 
 estinaated as excluded by the education clause.
 
 30 j£s0ags on ©orernmcnt. 
 
 Making these deductions for unnaturalized for- 
 eigners, paupers, criminals, defective persons, and 
 non-residents, we reach a safe approximation to 
 the number of actual legal voters in 1880; it was 
 11,055,000. Deducting 9,210,920, the total presi- 
 dential vote of that year, and we have about 1,830,- 
 000 voters unaccounted for; these are the stay-at- 
 homes, and they are about one-sixth of all the 
 voters. A recent writer has urged that the ab- 
 stentions ought not to exceed one-twentieth. A 
 very brief consideration will show that when five- 
 sixths of the voters come to the polls, no compul- 
 sory system could much increase the number. 
 There are few churches, clubs, societies, or lodges 
 in the country which have an attendance of five- 
 sixths, even once a year ; there is not an army in 
 the field which can put five-sixths of its men in 
 the ranks for a battle. There is not another coun- 
 try in the world which has ever exhibited so large 
 a proportion of actual voters as the United States. 
 Germany is a very intelligent country — a country 
 where the roads are good, changes of residence are 
 infrequent, and political interest is high. In the 
 German election of 1887 the number of votes cast 
 was but 77.5 per cent, of the number of voters, a 
 little more than three-fourths. 
 
 Yet the absence of one-sixth is a serious evil if 
 it can be avoided ; there are many reasons for it, 
 but want of interest in the elections is one of the 
 smallest of them, Old men have a proverbial dis-
 
 Bjerclee ot tbe Suffrage. 3i 
 
 like of showers, cold air, confusion, and fatigue. 
 There were in 1880 about 490,000 men of seventy 
 years and upward, of whom certainly 400,000 ' were 
 voters; the number of those who actually voted 
 is probably balanced by younger men who felt the 
 feebleness of age. Next comes the army of sick. 
 If the disbursements of sick-benefit companies are 
 evidence, men in ordinary health average one 
 week's sickness a year. It is fair to deduct two 
 per cent, of the men between twenty-one and 
 seventy on this ground. Another very large body 
 is made up of those away from home on election 
 day ; this class includes travellers for pleasure, 
 commercial travellers, students, many railroad and 
 steamship employees, sailors, and workmen em- 
 ployed at a distance from home. Making due al- 
 lowance for the non-naturalized persons among 
 them, a deduction of two per cent., or one man in 
 fifty, should be made. A chapter of pure acci- 
 dents accounts for about one per cent, more : 
 sprained ankles, sudden telegrams, importunate 
 callers, defective registration, forgetfulness. At 
 least one man in a hundred who means in the 
 morning to vote finds that the polls have closed 
 without his vote. The discrepancy between the 
 registration and the vote in States like New York, 
 in which re-registration is necessary every year, 
 
 ' Wadlin, p. 191, shows that in Massachusetts in 1885 there 
 were about 25,000 voters above seventy, out of a population of 
 1,942,111.
 
 32 Bssavs on (Bovernment. 
 
 roughly measures the accidents of all kinds : the 
 process of registration is vexatious ; the man who 
 undergoes it intends to vote, at least in presiden- 
 tial years ; yet the difference is often ten per cent. 
 
 Another fundamental error in regard to absten- 
 tion is the assumption that every voter who wishes 
 to vote has the opportunity. In 1880 the negroes 
 of voting age were 1,400,000; in almost every 
 State in which they were numerous the ratio of 
 votes cast to voters was lower than elsewhere. In 
 Mississippi, having almost exactly the population 
 of New Jersey, and almost no foreigners, the rate 
 was less than half that in the latter State. No one 
 believes that this was the result of indifference. 
 At the same ratio as in the North the number of 
 votes in the South would have been 1,000,000 
 greater. It is not extravagant to suppose that 
 560,000 more votes would have been cast if there 
 had been no restraint on the blacks. Where in- 
 timidation is not employed directly, as in the 
 South, it is often applied indirectly ; nor does 
 even the Australian ballot entirely protect a work- 
 man from a conviction that not to vote at all may 
 be the safest form of vote. Indeed, the Austra- 
 lian ballot leads to one of the most dangerous and 
 subtle forms of bribery — that in which a man is 
 paid to withhold a vote he would naturally have 
 given. 
 
 An appreciable number of votes is lost through 
 technical objections to their reception. In 1884 a
 
 Bjercise of tbc Siittiagc. 33 
 
 young lawyer of New York City, on offering his 
 vote, found that by the error of the registration 
 officer he had been registered in the wrong pre- 
 cinct. He spent the rest of the day in securing 
 his right : a considerable portion was passed in 
 ranging the city, collecting evidence ; another por- 
 tion in finding a judge who would issue a manda- 
 mus. A few minutes before the polls closed he 
 voted ; but where he succeeded a hundred men 
 must have failed. The ingenious nine-ballot-box 
 system in the South furnishes an easy mode of 
 shutting out unwelcome votes ; and the total vote 
 in New York in 1891 was diminished by rejecting 
 ballots that had a turned quad upon them, or a 
 misprinted endorsement. 
 
 The total loss of votes due to old age, illness, 
 absence from home, accident, intimidation, and 
 miscounts may be estimated at about 1,500,000. 
 Deducting this number from the 1,800,000 pre- 
 viously unaccounted for, and we have left about 
 300,000 voters who might have been expected to 
 vote, but felt no sufficient interest. This is about 
 three per cent, of the voters and a little more than 
 one-half of one per cent, of the population. 
 
 The percentage of votes cast for the whole 
 Union is considerably exceeded by that for many 
 of the separate States : thus New York in 1880 
 reached the then unprecedented figure of 1,104,- 
 605 votes — nearly twenty-two per cent, of the 
 whole population, and not far from ninety-four per
 
 34 Bssa^s on ©ovcrnment. 
 
 cent, of the voters. Could any system of compul- 
 sion produce a better result ? One of the current 
 axioms of reform in politics is that the people are 
 losing interest in the elections. All propositions, 
 lemmas, and corollaries based on that axiom had 
 better be revised ; for the truth is that the propor- 
 tion of voters has increased pretty steadily for a 
 century, and that the proportion of votes to voters 
 has grown ever since the first spirited election of 
 1840. Comparison is difficult, because the negroes 
 had practically no share in the elections till 1868; 
 and the influx of foreigners has increased the total 
 population faster than it has increased the voting 
 strength, so that the proportion of possible votes to 
 total population is diminished. In the election of 
 1 880 the vote reached 18.6 per cent, of the popula- 
 tion ; in 1888 it was about 19.2 per cent. ; in 1892 
 the proportion to the calculated population was 
 about 18.9. In many States there is no stay-at- 
 home vote worth considering. 
 
 When we come to State elections the difference 
 is painful ; even when simultaneous with the na- 
 tional voting the vote is a little less. When the 
 two do not come together the State vote in New 
 York is about three-fourths as large as the na- 
 tional. The presidential vote of 1888 was cut 
 down by 259,425 in 1891 ; that is, out of ten vot- 
 ers who were out at the first election, three stayed 
 at home in the second. Municipal elections, if 
 held at a different time from other elections, show
 
 B£crc(0c of the Suffrage. 35 
 
 a difference even greater: in New York City, in 
 1888, the vote was about 18 per cent, of the popu- 
 lation ; in 1890, a local election chiefly, 11. 6 per 
 cent.; in 1891, for governor, 13.2 per cent.; in 
 1892, for President, about 17 per cent. 
 
 There is, however, one encouraging feature of 
 State and local elections ; interest in them also has 
 slowly increased. In colonial times the suffrage 
 was so restricted that a vote one-fourth as large as 
 would now be cast by the same population was 
 phenomenal. Thus in Massachusetts, when the 
 long struggle over a new constitution culminated 
 in the popular vote of 1780, there were only about 
 15,000 votes in a population of 350,000, or 
 scarcely four per cent.' In Connecticut, out of 
 200,000 people in 1775 there were 4,325 votes, a 
 little over two per cent.' Comparing the votes in 
 State elections in Massachusetts for forty years, it 
 is evident that there is a steady increase. In 1855 
 the gubernatorial vote reached what was then a 
 flood tide of 11,9 percent, of the whole popula- 
 tion ; in 1890, with more than 130,000 unnatural- 
 ized foreigners to be deducted from the possible 
 voters, the proportion of voters to population was 
 12.8 per cent. Both Minnesota and Pennsylvania 
 
 ' A. H. Bullock, in Proceedings of the American Antiquarian 
 Society, new series, I., 2i6 ; Dexter, Estimates of Population, 
 p. 8. 
 
 ^ Dexter, Estimates, p. 13 ; Connecticut Colonial Records, xiv,, 
 
 4 ; XV., 413.
 
 36 Basalts on Government. 
 
 in 1890 cast the heaviest proportional vote for 
 governor in their history. In New York and Bos- 
 ton the participation in municipal elections seems 
 rather larger than ten or twenty years ago. Nev- 
 ertheless there were about 96,000 wilful absentees 
 in New York in 1891, or more than a fourth of 
 the voters, and about 20,000 in Boston. Why are 
 they so neglectful ? 
 
 One answer is that much more care is taken to 
 get out the vote in presidential campaigns. Efforts 
 are made to arouse enthusiasm once in four 
 years, which it would be impossible to make 
 every year. The simple truth is that the voter is 
 not interested so much in what affects his welfare 
 as in what excites his imagination ; he overcomes 
 obstacles and sacrifices convenience and private 
 interest when he thinks the object is of great im- 
 portance ; and he has his own standards of impor- 
 tance. Whenever the voter, while caring for a 
 good president, really cares more for a good mayor 
 and a good governor and a good legislature for the 
 commonwealth, he will vote more readily. It is 
 true that the national election is a simpler affair, 
 and presents fewer complicated issues ; that un- 
 known and corrupt men are less likely to be op- 
 posed to each other, leaving to the voter but a 
 choice of evils. Nevertheless, when the people 
 see a great principle at stake in a State election, 
 the vote is about as large as in presidential years. 
 Such was the case in Pennsylvania in 1890.
 
 Bjercfee of tbc Suffrage. 37 
 
 That abstention is a very serious evil, except in 
 presidential years, is not to be denied ; that com- 
 pulsion will remedy the evil is not so clear. The 
 argument against the power of the State to com- 
 pel the deposit of votes is best summed up in Fal- 
 staff's declaration : " If reasons were as plenty as 
 blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon 
 compulsion." Falstaff recognizes the right of the 
 State to restrain and to forbid — "the lion will not 
 touch the true prince " — but objects to inandanms 
 government. There are, in the United States, 
 surprisingly few things which a man must do. 
 The usual principle of law is negative ; if a man 
 fail to observe prescribed legal forms, his action 
 binds nobody. No man is obliged to make his 
 will, however great the advantage to the State 
 from his making it ; but if he make it without 
 two witnesses, it is no will. No man need register 
 before an election, but in New York he cannot 
 vote without that preliminary. The most impor- 
 tant case of compulsion is the collection of taxes ; 
 and the experience of the world is that the more 
 strictly taxes are laid on tangible things and the 
 less they fall on mere paper evidences of posses- 
 sion, the more successful is the tax-gatherer. The 
 State has a right to tax a man simply because he 
 has a poll, and to use compulsory means of collect- 
 ing such individual taxes ; but to require him to 
 use the brain within the poll, is hardly within the 
 scheme of government. Another forced public 
 
 43906'?'
 
 3^ JEssags on Goveinment. 
 
 duty is military service. Every able-bodied male 
 citizen is liable to militia duty in his State, and 
 liable to be called into the service of the United 
 States in case of war ; but, except in one great 
 crisis, the nation has depended chiefly on volun- 
 teers ; and even the " universal military service " 
 of Germany does not mean that all the able- 
 bodied men in the empire are required to turn 
 out once a year. The acceptance of public office 
 is in some States obligatory, as it very frequently 
 was in the Colonies. As yet, however, no State 
 has accepted the old Greek system of the Choregos, 
 compelling a rich man to fill an office requiring 
 large expenditures out of his private means ; and 
 few States longer insist on compulsory public ser- 
 vice of any kind. We should hardly enjoy a sys- 
 tem like that of the old university government of 
 Oxford, in which the unfortunate " regent mas- 
 ters" could be haled into convocation, in order to 
 make a quorum. Service in the posse coniitatiis 
 when called upon is closely akin to militia duty. 
 The nearest parallel to obligatory voting is ob- 
 ligatory jury duty : lawyers know how far the 
 obligation is effective, and how far it secures good 
 juries. Here again, as in military service, the 
 principle is not of universal duty, but of selection 
 from among those liable. Compulsory education 
 would seem at first sight to have a very close re- 
 semblance to compulsory voting ; but the obliga- 
 tion on the parent in this case is much more akin
 
 Bjercise of tbe Suffrage. 39 
 
 to that of clothing and supporting children, which 
 ceases when children become old enough to do 
 their own thinking. 
 
 The limitation of enforced services to the brief 
 category enumerated shows the practice of the 
 country. Law, custom, and common sense agree 
 that any requirement shall not extend from acts to 
 opinions. " I can make a nigger work," said a 
 master to Olmsted, " but I can't make him think." 
 The same principle applies still more strongly to 
 free men. Voting is simply an expression of pref- 
 erence. We have in our country the same kind 
 of an interest, though vastly greater in its range, 
 that stockholders have in a corporation. Haphaz- 
 ard votes have less value, because they represent 
 less thought or less conviction. It has become 
 customary to look on the ballot as a sort of talis- 
 man, which somehow endows the possessor with 
 wisdom. It does raise a voter if he thinks about 
 his vote ; but the education consists in calling out 
 his self-reliance, not in training him to a disagree- 
 able duty. It would be much more reasonable to 
 require all aliens to file a declaration of intention 
 to become citizens on the ground that the purpose 
 must educate them. Compulsory voting seems to 
 rest upon much the same principle as the compul- 
 sory attendance of mature young men in a college 
 chapel ; they are supposed by constant practice of 
 religious observances to acquire a habit of think- 
 ing on religious subjects, which will strengthen
 
 40 JEssags on Government. 
 
 their characters. It does not work that way ; nor 
 can you by law compel a man once or twice a year 
 to form an intelligent opinion on public questions. 
 There is too much "mollycoddling" of voters 
 already, — too many attempts to protect them from 
 their own want of reflection. The people of the 
 great cities would govern themselves better if no- 
 body had power to step in to save them from 
 themselves. 
 
 Beyond the question whether the danger is se- 
 rious and the question whether compulsion is de- 
 sirable, comes the question whether any effective 
 compulsion can be devised. No one suggests that 
 the delinquent voter shall be brought by main 
 force to the polls, like the boys at Dotheboys 
 Hall to their brimstone and treacle. The so-called 
 "compulsory voting" means, of course, only the 
 providing of disagreeable consequences if a man 
 fail to vote. The favorite penalty suggested is a 
 money fine. This is not a new idea : instances in 
 colonial history are not infrequent ; the penalty 
 ranged from sixpence to two hundred pounds of 
 tobacco. The records of Southampton, Long 
 Island, contain the following account of a political 
 gathering of the time : 
 
 lune 3, 1654. At a general court. . . . 
 
 At the said court there being a great disorder 
 by reason of ye departure of some of the members 
 thereof before the adiournment or dissolution of 
 the saide cort, the major part of the Cort being left,
 
 jEjerclse of tbe Suffrage. 4i 
 
 and troubled at the said disorderly carriage, espe- 
 cially considering that the said departure was be- 
 fore the full consuination of what was then agi- 
 tated and acted, the said major part left determine 
 ye cort shall be called, and all absent that de- 
 parted as aforesaid shall pay according to former 
 orders, and that Thomas Ilalsey shall pay more- 
 over 5s. for his contemptious carriage vnto ye cort 
 at his departure.' 
 
 A similar vote of the town of Lancaster, Massa- 
 chusetts, of 1669, reads as follows : " Eurie settled 
 inhabitant atend the publique meeting of the town 
 eurie yeare the first Monday in februarie by 10 of 
 the cloke," on penalty of two shillings. The 
 Maryland statute of 1716 has a stringent rule as 
 follows : 
 
 All freeholders, freemen and other persons qual- 
 ified to give votes in the election of delegates shall 
 and are hereby obliged to be and appear at the 
 time and place appointed for elections to be here- 
 after had or made of any delegates, burgesses and 
 citizens to serve in any Assembly for this Prov- 
 ince, under the penalty of one hundred pounds of 
 tobacco for every person so qualified as aforesaid, 
 neglecting to appear [half to go to the informer in 
 the county court]." 
 
 ' Records of Southampton, 102. 
 
 ' Bacon's Laws, 1765 (no paging). For this and the otlier colo- 
 nial statutes I am indebted to the unpublished researches of Mr. 
 David E. Spencer on colonial suffrage.
 
 42 Eseags on (Boveinment. 
 
 A Plymouth statute of 1660 enjoined voting in 
 the following terms : 
 
 Whereas the court hath taken notice that divers 
 of the ffreemen of this corporation doe neither ap- 
 peer att courts of election nor send theire voates 
 by proxey for the choise of majestrates &c It is 
 enacted by the court and the authoritie therof; 
 that whosoever of the ffreemen of this corporation ; 
 that shall not appeer att the court of election att 
 Plymouth in June anually nor send theire voate 
 by proxey according to order of court for the choise 
 of Gou'' Assistants Commissioners and Treasurer 
 shalbee fined to the collonies vse the sume of ten 
 shillings for every such default ; vnlesse some un- 
 avoidable impediments hinder such in theire ap- 
 peerance.' 
 
 Massachusetts appeared to expect but did not 
 require voting.^ The Georgia constitution of 1777 
 provided that 
 
 every person absenting himself from an election, 
 and shall neglect to give in his or their ballots 
 at such election, shall be subject to a penalty not 
 exceeding five pounds ; the mode of recovery, and 
 also the appropriation thereof, to be pointed out 
 and directed by act of legislature : Provided^ nev- 
 ertheless, that a reasonable excuse shall be ad- 
 mitted.' 
 
 'Plymouth Colony Records, XI., 84, 127, 157. 
 
 ''■ Massachusetts Colonial Records, I., 166, 185, 277. 
 
 ^ Poore's Charters and Constitutions, I., 379.
 
 ;6ici-ci6e of tbe Suftrage. 43 
 
 But the earliest and latest laws on this subject 
 were passed in Virginia. Eight different acts ap- 
 pear. The first was in 1646, as follows: 
 
 That what freemen soever, haveing lawful sumons 
 of the time and place for election of Burgesses, that 
 shall not make repaire accordingly, Such person or 
 persons vnles there be lawful 1 cause for the absent- 
 ing himselfe shall forfeit lOO lb. of tob'o for his 
 non appearance, * * -k- * the said fine to be 
 levyed by distresse in case of refusalL' 
 
 In 1705 it was enacted 
 
 that after publication of writs and time and place 
 of election of burgesses as aforesaid, every free- 
 holder, actually resident within the county where 
 the election is to be made, respectively shall appear 
 accordingly, and give his vote at such election, 
 upon penalty of forfeiting two hundred pounds of 
 tobacco to such person or persons as will inform 
 and sue for the same : To be recovered, with costs, 
 in any court of record within their dominion, by 
 information, bill, plaint, or action of debt, wherein 
 no essoin, protection, or wager of law, privilege, or 
 any more than one imparlance will be allowed.* 
 
 The last acts of the kind appear to be the Vir- 
 ginia statutes of 1785 and 1788. The latter merely 
 applies the principle of the former to elections for 
 
 ' Hening, I., 334. The act of 1662 is similar. Ibid., II., 82. 
 ' Hening, III., 238 ; substantially repeated in 1762 and 1769. 
 Jbid., VII., 521 ; VIII., 308.
 
 44 Bssa^s on ©overnnicnt. 
 
 members of Congress.' The former provides an 
 elaborate system of compulsion. 
 
 Any elector qualified according to this act, fail- 
 ing to attend any annual election of delegates or 
 of a senator, and, if a poll be taken, to give or 
 offer to give his vote, shall pay one-fourth of his 
 portion of all such levies and taxes as shall be 
 assessed and levied in his county the ensuing year : 
 And for discovering such defaulters, the sheriff or 
 other officer taking the poll, shall within ten days 
 after the said election, deliver to the clerk of the 
 county or corporation court, as the case may be, a 
 copy of the poll by him taken, to be kept in his 
 office, who shall suffer any candidate or elector to 
 take a copy thereof, and the said clerk is hereby 
 directed to cause a copy of the same to be deliv- 
 ered to the next grand-jury, to be sworn for the 
 county or corporation, who shall be charged by the 
 presiding magistrate to make presentments of all 
 such persons qualified to vote residing in the said 
 county or corporation, who shall have failed to 
 have given their votes at the said election agree- 
 able to law.^ 
 
 These precedents are of little value to us ; with 
 few exceptions, they apply to attendance at a delib- 
 erative meeting, where opinions were to be openly 
 expressed and controverted ; where a man's argu- 
 ment was as much desired as his vote. The re- 
 quirement to vote for representatives appears to 
 
 ' Hening, XII., 65. 
 
 ^ Hening, XII., 122. Cf. Jefferson's report of the Committee of 
 Revision (1784), p. i.
 
 Bjercisc of tbc Suffrage. 45 
 
 have been applied only in Plymouth, Maryland, 
 Georgia, and Virginia. The number of persons 
 affected was very small. The most crowded town 
 meetine ever held in Boston before the Revolu- 
 tion was that which assembled in 1734 to consider 
 Peter Fancuil's offer of a market-house ; the votes 
 cast were 916, out of a population of 15,000;' in 
 1888 the vote of the Seventeenth Ward in Boston, 
 having a population of 15,000, was nearly 3,000. 
 Yet the experience of the colonies in compelling 
 their few voters, does not seem so happy as to en- 
 courage the application of the system to our more 
 difificult conditions. All these restrictions have 
 long been abandoned. A money fine is not the 
 most successful means of holding the community 
 up to its duties ; people get into a reckless feeling 
 that it is right to do the thing prohibited, if one 
 stands ready to pay the fine. The Beekman, 
 Chilton, Massachusetts,' and Hawes bills seek to 
 remedy lack of interest in voting by a system 
 which must fail for lack of interest in prosecutions. 
 It is idle to expect that the coinmunity which will 
 not vote will punish men for not voting. The sys- 
 tem of fines works well when applied to minor but 
 positive offences ; even the Lombards, who carried 
 out the principle to many fanciful details, kept 
 fines for deeds of commission. If a man maimed 
 
 ' Boston Town records. 
 
 '•^ The text of these three is given by Holls, 41-43.
 
 46 jBse^'ss on Government. 
 
 another, he paid " for the little finger iv solidi ; 
 for the middle finger ii solidi ; for the thumb viii 
 solidi"; there was no fine for failing to shout 
 and clash the shield at the election of a king. The 
 state has a right to require of the citizen any serv- 
 ice necessary to national preservation ; but the 
 state is equally bound not to turn the individual 
 into a machine. 
 
 A second and very ingenious penalty has been 
 put into operation in Illinois. The names of per- 
 sons who fail to vote are put on the jury lists. 
 Apparently nothing could be more automatic and 
 effective. The man who shirks the unpleasant 
 duty of spending an hour in casting his ballot be- 
 fore a public officer, may spend six weeks in decid- 
 ing whether that officer does his duty. However 
 disagreeable this might be for the voter, it is un- 
 fortunately even more disagreeable for litigants 
 and counsel. The system involves the deliberate 
 selection of men who neglect one duty, to perform 
 a more important duty. It obliges men who are 
 too feeble and sick to vote to show cause why 
 they should not inhabit a jury room. Further- 
 more, it furnishes an easy path for those who prefer 
 jury duty to more serious tasks. A professional 
 " heeler " has his disadvantages ; but a professional 
 juryman is a worse evil. Possibly it might be a 
 suitable punishment for a man who refused to ac- 
 cept jury duty, to make him vote a straight ticket 
 at the next election; but jury duty is not a suit-
 
 Bjerclsc ot tbc Sutfrage. 47 
 
 able reward or a suitable punishment for the delin- 
 quent voter. 
 
 A third suggestion for sharpening the conscience 
 of the voter adopts the principle of the Mosaic law : 
 " The soul that sinneth, it shall die." The voter 
 who once omits to vote shall not be allowed to 
 vote thereafter, until he shall have purged himself 
 by paying a fine. The proposition has been ably 
 set forth by Mr. Holls, who supports it with great 
 ingenuity of argument. It is undoubtedly a better 
 system than that of fines or jury duty; it attaches 
 a disagreeable, and perhaps a permanent stigma to 
 the neglect. But as a means of getting out a 
 larger proportion of the voters, or increasing inter- 
 est in public affairs, its efficacy may be doubted. 
 Perhaps the best way to discuss it will be to ana- 
 lyze the reasons for the stay-at-home vote, and to 
 see how far each class of delinquents would be 
 diminished by the measure. 
 
 Bad weather keeps many thousands of voters at 
 home ; compulsory voting would amerce or dis- 
 qualify thousands of men who are kept away by bad 
 roads, or by the rising of the Southern streams, 
 along the beds of which highways are often con- 
 structed. The voter who has a cold, or who just- 
 ly fears a cold, or whose wife justly or unjustly 
 fears it, will be debarred. It is doubtful whether 
 fear of disfranchisement or fine would greatly 
 diminish any of the bad-weather classes. 
 
 Another group is made up of those who will not
 
 4S Essags on ©ovecnmcnt. 
 
 mix in "dirty politics"; who think all parties 
 "packs of scoundrels," and who wish to be left to 
 their comfortable private life. These men are the 
 stock illustrations of what may be called the Sun- 
 day-school literature of the subject — the awful 
 examples held up to the young man who intends 
 to go fishing on election day. That such persons 
 constitute one in a hundred of the voters is hard to 
 believe. They certainly cannot exceed three in a 
 hundred, since that is the total number of wilful 
 abstainers in Presidential elections. If disfran- 
 chised for not voting, how many additional votes 
 will be got, and how many dollars for the public 
 treasury ? 
 
 Much larger numbers neglect- to vote because 
 they know their party to be in a hopeless minority, 
 and that their votes can make no possible differ- 
 ence. One would expect to find many thousands 
 of such men in the absolutely sure States, such 
 as Texas and Vermont, the vote of which has 
 for many years not been in doubt. The Demo- 
 cratic majority in Texas is over 100,000 ; but the 
 minority keeps up a State organization ; and the 
 vote of the State is little smaller in proportion to 
 the population than that of Virginia. All the 
 Southern States have a small proportional vote ; 
 the congressional vote of Tennessee is about half 
 of that Iowa, which has about an equal population 
 and similar industries. In Vermont, which has 
 never gone anything but Republican since there
 
 jBiccxciee of tbc Suffrage. 49 
 
 was a Republican party, the majority takes pride 
 in displaying its own size. The stay-at-homes 
 are about as numerous in close as in sure States, 
 particularly if the opinion gets abroad that one 
 party is reasonably sure to win. Since party 
 managers aim to " poll the full strength of the 
 party" they would probably favor some measure 
 of compulsion. Here comes in one of the serious 
 dangers of the disfranchisement-fine system. The 
 absolutely indifferent voter will lose the vote 
 which he never uses ; the careless but honest voter 
 will lose the vote which he would have used 
 sometimes ; and the careless and dishonest voter 
 will have his fines paid for him, and he will vote, 
 and he will vote "straight." Massachusetts found 
 the state of things so demoralizing that in 1891 
 the poll-tax requirement was struck out of the con- 
 stitution : a State which adopts the proposed sys- 
 tem will eventually abandon it for a similar reason. 
 
 One large class of abstainers would probably be 
 reduced by such a law ; it is the men who are 
 public-spirited and who know that they ought to 
 vote, but who are too busy, and who think that 
 their duty will be performed by some one else. If 
 such men voted without much regard for party 
 when they did go to the polls, they might fre- 
 quently change elections ; in fact, however, their 
 number would probably only swell the total vote 
 on both sides without much altering results. 
 
 In the few States in which registration is re- 
 4
 
 so Essai?B on Government. 
 
 newed by the voter every year, men sometimes 
 abstain from registering to escape jury duty; for 
 the jury lists are often made up from the register. 
 This number is said to be considerable in New 
 York City. Fines, if applied, might perhaps bring 
 out their vote ; a different system of selecting 
 candidates might have the same result. 
 
 Next comes the class, unhappily too large, of 
 those who neither know nor care anything about 
 the election, the candidates, or the result, but who 
 do care to sell their votes. The hope of the re- 
 formers seems to be that such men will get so 
 deeply in arrears of fines that they will disappear 
 out of politics from sheer inability to pay their 
 way back to the suffrage. Is it likely that a man 
 who looks on his vote as a piece of personal prop- 
 erty will forfeit it by neglect ? Or if he does, is 
 it likely that where there is money to pay for 
 his vote there may not also be money to pay his 
 fines ? The black spectre which affects all ques- 
 tions of politics in the South comes in here also. 
 Nobody who understands the condition of the 
 negro can wish that he be incited to vote where 
 he voluntarily refrains. But the negro usually 
 votes if he can ; to prevent him from voting and 
 then to disfranchise him because he does not vote, 
 is not likely to improve the relations of the races. 
 The proposed scheme must have the effect, North 
 and South, of putting a pressure to vote upon the 
 most ignorant and debased.
 
 jBjerctse of tbe Suffrage. 5i 
 
 This brings us to the last and most important 
 class of absentees, those who deliberately withhold 
 their votes because they think that they can exert 
 more influence on public affairs in that way than 
 by casting them. The great evil of the whole suf- 
 frage system is not that votes are few, but that 
 they are unconsidered. If a commission Avent 
 from house to house to get votes, so that there 
 were no trouble to the voters, nineteen men out of 
 every twenty would vote their usual party ticket. 
 Any unusual defection of voters means a deliber- 
 ate lesson to party managers. A similar lesson 
 might be taught by voting for some third-party 
 candidate, or by voting for a good candidate on 
 the other ticket. As a matter of fact, there is not 
 in the United States one voter in fifty who will 
 do either under any circumstances. Neither party 
 feels more confidence in the nominating apparatus 
 of the other side than in its own. American voters 
 rarely pass from one party to another ; they de- 
 pend on the silent but effectual protest of leaving 
 their party in the lurch. The absentee vote of 
 the opposite party permitted the election of Gov- 
 ernor Cleveland in New York in 1882, and of 
 Governor Pattison in Pennsylvania in 1890, and 
 gave the Democrats a majority in the Congres- 
 sional election of 1890. To compel men to vote 
 against their will is to tighten the control of party 
 managers. The defect of the compulsory system, 
 as of many proposed reforms which are expected
 
 52 Bssa^s on Government. 
 
 to restore the Eden period of politics, is that it 
 does not go to the root of the matter. It will be 
 noticed in Table I. that the percentage of votes to 
 voters is about four and a half per cent, less in 
 1892 than in 1800. Comparison with the votes 
 of 1884 and 1888 suggests no steady deterioration ; 
 it is probable that many voters abstained because 
 they were willing to vote neither their usual ticket 
 nor for the opposite party. 
 
 Honest voters are indifferent or refuse to vote 
 because they feel their impotence to affect their 
 own party management ; yet they support their 
 party management because experience shows that 
 the men who fight it must make great exertions 
 and sacrifices, or be set out of politics ; and further 
 because permanent political results can be brought 
 about only through strong and persisting parties. 
 Compulsory voting supplies no new motives, and 
 would not alter those political habits of the Ameri- 
 can people which are the real evil. Compulsory 
 voting cannot create interest in local affairs, or 
 break up the practice of adhesion to unfit leaders. 
 
 Is there not already a sufficient remedy for the 
 stay-at-home vote ? The man who is absent from 
 elections is still a voter, a resident, a man : he has 
 important interests. If appeals to patriotism, love 
 of order and decency be not sufficient, let the voter 
 suffer in the manner suggested by the quaint reso- 
 lution of Lancaster, Massachusetts, in 1669. In 
 addition to a nominal fine the neglectful voters
 
 I2£crciae of tbc Suffrage. 53 
 
 were to lose " their voate in such transactions of 
 the town, that may be acted by the town in their 
 absence." Amplifying the principle of self-inter- 
 est, the true remedy may be formulated thus : 
 
 A BILL 
 
 to provide a suitable punishment for the failure to 
 
 vote. 
 
 Be it enacted, etc. 
 
 Section i. On and after the passage of this act, 
 it shall be the duty of every person duly qualified, 
 to vote at every election, national, state or muni- 
 cipal. 
 
 Section 2. If any person shall neglect the said 
 duty he shall be disqualified from voting at the 
 election at which the neglect occurred, and no 
 longer. 
 
 Section 3. Any qualified voter who fails to vote 
 at any lawful election shall nevertheless be bound 
 by the result of said election as though he had 
 participated therein ; and all persons chosen to 
 office at such election shall exercise the duties of 
 their of^ce as though he had voted ; and all stat- 
 utes passed by persons so elected, acting as a law- 
 ful legislature, shall be binding upon him. 
 
 If it be objected that this is simply a statement 
 of the present practice, the writer makes no reply.
 
 54 
 
 jEssags on Government. 
 
 Table I.— LEGAL VOTERS COMPARED 
 
 Total population 
 
 Males above 21 
 
 Per cent, to total population 
 
 Native born 
 
 Foreign born 
 
 Per cent, of foreign born to total adult 
 
 males 
 
 Foreigners naturalized 
 
 Foreigners not naturalized 
 
 Per cent, of foreign naturalized to 
 foreign born 
 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 Boston 
 1885. 
 
 State. 
 1885. 
 
 3901393 i-942,iii 
 
 "7,713, 572,726 
 
 29.9 29.5 
 
 66,761! 366,499 
 
 50,556 206,227 
 
 43-4 
 28,841 
 
 21,715 
 S7-0 
 
 Total " votables " (having age and sex). 117,713 
 
 Native men 
 
 Native women in Wyoming 
 
 Naturalized foreigners 
 
 Foreigners declarants and voters 
 Foreigners not voters 
 
 Total normal voters 
 
 Exclusions 
 
 Paupers (not polled) 
 
 Prisoners 
 
 Criminals 
 
 Insane 
 
 Residence not secured (1 per cent.) 
 
 Taxes not paid 
 
 Illiterate (or " not voters ") 
 
 Total legal voters 
 
 Per cent, to population of States. 
 Per cent, to adult males 
 
 Total votes 
 
 Per cent, to population. . 
 Per cent, to legal voters. 
 
 66.761 
 28,841 
 21,715 
 
 State. 
 1890. 
 
 2,238,943 
 
 665,009 
 
 29.7 
 
 407,915 
 
 257,094 
 
 36.0 38.6 
 
 98,730] 112,504 
 
 117,096 144,590 
 
 48.5 43-3 
 
 572,726 665,009 
 366,499 407,915 
 
 New 
 
 95.602 
 17,780 
 
 469 
 
 1,246 
 
 500 
 
 268 
 
 *g,ooo 
 
 1,000 
 
 5,297 
 
 98,730 112,504 
 
 8,366| 6.541 
 
 99.131! 139.049 
 
 465,299, 520,319 
 
 84,175 
 
 4.767 
 
 2,950 
 
 1,000 
 
 1,246 
 
 *45.ooo 
 
 1,000 
 
 26,212 
 
 77,822 381,124 
 
 19.9 
 
 66.6' 
 
 19.6 
 66.5 
 
 44,714: 209,668 
 11.4 10.9 
 57-5! 55-0 
 
 285,520 
 12.7 
 
 City. 
 
 State. 
 
 1880. 
 
 1880. 
 
 1,206,209 
 
 5,082,871 
 
 336,137 
 
 1,408,751 
 
 27.9 
 
 29.7 
 
 
 872,153 
 
 
 536,598 
 
 
 38.1 
 
 
 ♦325,700 
 
 336,137 
 
 '2ro,t 
 
 *6o.7 
 
 1,408,751 
 87«.i53 
 
 ♦325,700 
 
 1,248 
 
 *i, 197.853 
 
 5. 894 
 6,639 
 
 1,708 8,230 
 ♦11,978 
 
 ♦1,165,000 
 
 205,3761 1,104,605 
 
 17.0' 21.7! 
 
 ♦94-0
 
 JB^ctcise of tbe Suffiacic. 
 
 55 
 
 WITH THE POPULATION. 
 
 1 
 
 YOKK. 
 
 New England. 
 
 United 
 
 States. 
 
 The States. 
 
 State. 
 
 1890. 
 
 1880. 
 
 1890. 
 
 1880. 
 
 1890. 
 
 1880. 
 
 1890. 
 
 S.997.853 1 
 1,769,649 
 
 4,010,527 
 1,144,919 
 
 4,700.79s ] 
 1,410,191 
 
 50,153,783 
 12,830,349 
 
 62,622,250 
 16,940,311 
 
 49.371.340 
 12,568,891 
 
 61,908,906 
 16.733,527 
 
 29-5 
 
 1,084,187 
 
 685,462 
 
 25.6 
 
 835,979 
 308,940 
 
 30.0 
 958,381 
 451,903 
 
 25.6 
 9,757,862 
 3,072,487 
 
 27 
 
 12.591,852 
 
 4.438,459 
 
 25-5 
 *9,5'2,89i 
 ♦3,056,000 
 
 27.0 
 
 12,437,28a 
 
 4,296,245 
 
 3... 
 
 416,362 
 271,100 
 
 26.9 
 
 31-2 
 
 197.341 
 254,562 
 
 23-9 
 
 * I. 690,000 
 
 *i,382,487 
 
 25.6 
 2,546,037 
 1,802,422 
 
 23.8 
 ♦1,787,000 
 ♦1,263,000 
 
 25.6 
 
 2,518,107 
 1,778,138 
 
 60.7 
 
 
 43-7 
 
 *55.o 
 
 58.5 
 
 ♦58.0 
 
 58.6 
 
 1.769,649 
 1,084,187 
 
 1,144,919 
 
 1,410,191 
 958,381 
 
 197,341 
 
 ",935 
 
 242,627 
 
 12,830,349 
 9.757,862 
 
 * 1,690,000 
 ♦95,000 
 
 16,940,311 
 12,591,852 
 
 2,546,037 
 236,069 
 
 1,566,353 
 
 12,568,891 
 9,512,891 
 
 16,733.527 
 
 12,437,282 
 
 ♦15,000 
 
 416,362 
 271,100 
 
 ♦1,787,000 
 
 ♦90,000 
 
 1,263,000 
 
 2,518,107 
 
 123.774 
 
 1,544.398 
 
 1,500,549 
 
 4,028 
 
 1,155.722 
 
 ♦14,876,852 
 
 15.373.938 
 
 1*11,390,000 
 ♦335,000 
 ♦ 55,000 
 
 ♦15,094,163 
 ♦420,000 
 
 ♦75,000 
 
 
 4,251 
 
 
 22,441 
 47.730 
 
 
 ♦60,000 
 ♦15,000 
 ♦40,000 
 ♦110,000 
 ♦30,000 
 ♦25,000 
 
 ♦75,000 
 
 *20,000 
 
 ♦50,000 
 
 ♦150,000 
 
 ♦10,000 
 
 ♦40,000 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 11,055,000 
 
 ♦14,675,000 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 22.4 
 87.9 
 
 23.7 
 
 87.7 
 
 [1892.] 
 1.336,493 
 22.0 
 90.0 
 
 739,918 
 18.4 
 
 717.225 
 
 X5.2 
 
 9,218,550 
 18.4 
 
 [1892.] 
 12,179,369 
 19.4 
 
 9,210,970 
 18.6 
 83.3 
 
 [1892.] 
 
 12,081,316 
 
 18.9 
 78.8
 
 56 
 
 jBeen^e on ©overnment. 
 
 Table II.— POPULAR VOTE FOR PRESIDENT 
 
 1824 
 1828 
 
 1830 (census year) , 
 
 1832 
 1836 
 
 1840 (census year) . 
 
 1844 
 1848 
 
 1850 (census year) . 
 
 1852 
 
 1856 
 
 I 
 
 1864 
 
 1868 
 
 I 
 
 1872 
 
 1876 
 
 I 
 
 1884 
 1888 
 
 1892 
 
 i860 (census year) 
 
 1870 [corrected] (census year) 
 
 i83o (census year) . 
 
 1890 (census year) . 
 
 Population. 
 
 The Union. 
 
 12,866,020 
 
 17.069,453 
 
 23,191,876 
 
 31.443.321 
 
 38.S58.371 
 
 50.155.783 
 
 62,622,250 
 
 States. 
 
 12,820.868 
 
 17,019,641 
 
 23,067,262 
 
 31,183,744 
 
 38,115,641 
 
 49.371.340 
 
 61,908,906 
 
 Note. — Asterisks denote estimates. In Table I the figures have been verified, 
 and in part compiled, by Mr. Theodore C. Smith. In Table II the figures from 1870 
 to 1876 are corrected according to the Eleventh Census Bulletin, No. 16, p. 3. The
 
 jlEicicise of tbe SutEiagc. 
 
 57 
 
 COMPARED WITH THE POPULATION. (1824-1892.) 
 
 
 Voters, 
 
 Votes. 
 
 
 Voting States 
 e x c luding 
 negroes to 
 1868. 
 
 Males of vot- 
 ing race 
 above 21 in 
 States. 
 
 Normal Vot- 
 ers (half 
 foreigners 
 includ ed 
 to 1870). 
 
 Number of 
 Votes. 
 
 Per cent, 
 of Pop- 
 ulation. 
 
 Per cent, 
 of Legal 
 
 Voters, 
 
 
 
 
 
 352,062 
 1,156,328 
 
 16.9 
 
 17.0 
 17.2 
 16.7 
 
 15-4 
 19.0 
 18.6 
 18.7 
 19.2 
 
 18.9 
 
 78.0 
 80.0 
 
 81.2 
 
 "78.8 
 
 1824 
 
 
 2,329,728 
 
 
 1828 
 
 10,633,323 
 
 2,262,685 
 
 1830 
 
 1,250,799 
 1,498,205 
 2,410,778 
 2,698,611 
 ! 2,871,908 
 
 1832 
 
 
 
 
 1836 
 
 14,317.850 
 
 3.278,385 
 
 3,038,288 
 
 1840 
 1844 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 1848 
 
 19,517,940 
 
 4,684,883 
 *5, 222,314 
 
 4.313.044 
 
 
 1850 
 
 3,144,201 
 4,052,967 
 4.676,853 
 4.166,537 
 5,724,684 
 
 1852 
 
 
 
 1856 
 
 25.965.833 
 "24,250,000 
 "34,282,350 
 
 6,870,152 
 
 5,629,310 
 
 i860 
 1864 
 
 
 
 1868 
 
 9,298,047 
 
 7,627,878 
 •• 
 
 1870 
 
 *4i,3i2,ooo 
 *44, 179,000 
 
 49,371.340 
 "53,664,032 
 "59,300,000 
 
 61,908,906 
 "64,000,000 
 
 6,466,165 
 
 8,412,733 
 
 9.210,395 
 
 10,056,347 
 
 11,387,029 
 
 12,081,316 
 
 1 
 
 1872 
 
 
 1876 
 
 12,571.445 
 
 "11.340,000 
 
 18S0 
 1884 
 
 
 
 1888 
 
 16,733.527 
 
 14,675,000 
 "15,320,000 
 
 1890 
 1892 
 
 
 
 
 estimates of "legal voters" for 1850 and 1852 are from the Compendium of the 
 Seventh Census, Introduction ; the other years are calculated by Mr. Smith. The 
 " legal voters " in 1890 is an exact total calculated from the Census.
 
 III. 
 
 THE ELECTION OF A PRESIDENT. 
 
 On November 8, 1892, the voters of the United 
 States were called upon to indicate their choice 
 for President. It may, therefore, be interesting 
 to consider the manner in which such contests are 
 carried on, and the questions which have arisen in 
 previous presidential elections. 
 
 The " campaign," as the electoral struggle is 
 popularly called, begins when the candidates are 
 nominated, but the preliminaries go back to about 
 a year before the election. In the early part of 
 the century, nominations were often made two or 
 even three years before the election ; but since the 
 adoption of the great nominating conventions in 
 1832 it is usual not to decide upon the candidates 
 until May or June of the electoral year. In only 
 three cases has there been an uncontested elec- 
 tion — Washington, chosen in 1788-89 and 1792; 
 and Monroe's second election in 1820. The in- 
 cumbent of the office, if in his first term, almost 
 always hopes for a renomination. Of the twenty- 
 three persons elected as President, four died in 
 
 (58)
 
 jElcction of ipresi&ent. 59 
 
 office, seven were re-elected, four were defeated 
 for a second term, and four only, Polk, Pierce, 
 Buchanan, and Hayes, did not receive the renomi- 
 nation of their own party. It is noteworthy that 
 not one of the four Presidents who came into office 
 from the Vice-Presidency through the death of 
 the President received a renomination. 
 
 The machinery by which candidates are put 
 forward has now become well established. The 
 voters of each party are supposed by a system of 
 indirect elections to choose delegates to the Na- 
 tional Convention. In fact, the number of voters 
 who participate in this primary process is always 
 small, and in many places is not a tenth of the 
 party strength. Still, the National Conventions 
 are bodies of delegates twice as large as the Senate 
 and House of Representatives put together; count- 
 ing now 808, they are too large to be controlled 
 by a few politicians, and both the great party con- 
 ventions in 1892 nominated candidates much more 
 acceptable to the rank and file of their respective 
 parties than to the political leaders. 
 
 With the candidates each party puts out a plat- 
 form of its principles. By long-established usage 
 it is customary on questions upon which the party 
 itself is divided to introduce a " straddle "—that 
 is, a statement which will bear one construction in 
 one part of the country and another in another. 
 Nevertheless, there have been some cases of very 
 bold and outspoken " planks " in party platforms.
 
 6o Bssags on Government. 
 
 Thus in 1856 the Republican party in its first con- 
 vention denounced " those twin relics of barbarism 
 — polygamy and slavery," and in 1892 the Demo- 
 cratic Convention declared that "we denounce 
 Republican protection as a fraud." 
 
 The engine of the " campaign " for each party is 
 a " National Committee," composed of one mem- 
 ber from each State ; it is the duty of this com- 
 mittee to adopt a plan of campaign ; to organize 
 political meetings, and to circulate political litera- 
 ture ; and to raise and to disburse the necessary 
 funds. The chairman of the committee has very 
 large responsibility, and one of his duties is to pre- 
 vent the candidate from writing entangling letters 
 or making damaging speeches. It is customary 
 for the candidate to efface himself during the cam- 
 paign ; the most notable exceptions have been 
 the public speeches of William Henry Harrison in 
 1840, and of James G. Blaine, in 1884, both of 
 which provoked serious comment. The candi- 
 date, however, may make a speech on accepting 
 his nomination, and is expected to write an elab- 
 orate letter of acceptance, which is considered the 
 key-note of the campaign. Mr. Cleveland made 
 several public speeches during the canvass of 1892. 
 Money is liberally used for three main purposes. 
 The first is the education of the voter by circulat- 
 ing political documents and by holding political 
 meetings. A new device introduced into the last 
 campaign will save large sums of money to the
 
 Election of iprcslC>cnt. 6i 
 
 campaign committees : members of Congress are 
 by custom allowed to print extracts as part of their 
 speeches ; and both Democratic and Republican 
 members in the previous session managed thus to 
 introduce whole books, section by section. Thus 
 Henry George's " Progress and Poverty " is spread 
 at large on the records of Congressional debates. 
 The speeches containing these extracts are circu- 
 lated under the frank of the Congressman who 
 made them. The second use of money is to keep 
 up a semi-military organization in both parties, 
 the chief object of which is to appear a few times 
 during the campaign in torch-light processions. 
 This custom sprang up in i860. The only persons 
 who have a personal interest in the drill and in 
 the cheap gaudy uniforms are half-grown boys, 
 not yet voters — but neither party has felt safe in 
 omitting this means of impressing the imagination 
 of the voters. In the campaign of 1892 this sys- 
 tem was noticeably little used. The third use of 
 money is for the purchase of votes outright. Al- 
 though made more difficult by the new ballot re- 
 form laws in most of the States, it is still practised 
 openly and unblushingly. For reasons which will 
 appear later, the money is spent most liberally in 
 large States having a very close vote. 
 
 Who are the voters whose suffrages are thus de- 
 sired and beguiled ? Under the Constitution 
 " each State shall appoint, in such Manner as the 
 Legislature thereof may direct, a Number of Elec-
 
 62 Bssa^s on (Sovcrnment. 
 
 tors, equal to the whole number of Senators and 
 Representatives to which the State may be en- 
 titled in the Congress." It therefore follows that 
 a President might be elected without any voter 
 directly taking part. In early days many of the 
 State Legislatures appointed the electors them- 
 selves without further reference to their constitu- 
 ents. By common consent this privilege has been 
 given up ; it not infrequently happened that the 
 Legislature which thus cast the vote no longer 
 represented the people of the State. Another 
 method which had more to recommend it was for 
 the Legislature to divide the State into districts, 
 each of which might choose an elector. Between 
 1832 and 1892 no instance occurred in which this 
 device was used. In 1890, however, a Democratic 
 Legislature was chosen in Michigan ; foreseeing 
 that the majority in the State as a whole would 
 be Republican, they passed a lav/ reviving this ob- 
 solete system for that State. The device was suc- 
 cessful, and the electoral vote of Michigan was 
 divided in 1892. So much popular prejudice was 
 aroused by the act that a test case was made up 
 and brought before the United States courts, urg- 
 ing that it was unconstitutional ; but it was de- 
 cided that the Legislature had acted within its 
 powers. The almost universal method is for the 
 Legislature to direct that each voter may cast his 
 ballot for as many electors as the State is entitled 
 to choose. This so-called "general ticket system"
 
 Blectlon of ipiesi&cnt. 63 
 
 is, of course, the French scrutin de liste. This 
 method has serious and disagreeable consequences : 
 a very small preponderance in a State having a 
 large number of voters may decide and usually 
 does decide, the whole contest. In the three elec- 
 tions of 1880, 1884, and 1888 the vote of New 
 York was necessary to the winning candidate; 
 and the majorities in that State were respectively 
 21,000, 1,150, and 14,000, Hence in large and 
 thickly populated States, particularly New York 
 and Indiana, most strenuous and often very cor- 
 rupt efforts are made to secure the largest vote 
 possible on each side. A further result is that 
 Presidents are not infrequently elected who have 
 much less than a popular majority. Many reme- 
 dies have been proposed : the most ingenious is 
 that in each State the total electoral vote should 
 be divided pro rata among the various parties in 
 proportion to their total popular vote. This 
 would give great encouragement to minorities 
 throughout the Union, but would take away the 
 great power now vested in a few voters in large 
 States. As no general change can be made except 
 by a constitutional amendment, there is no imme- 
 diate hope of this reform. 
 
 Who are the voters who cast their ballots in 
 November, 1892 ? Here comes in one of the an- 
 omalies of the American Constitution. The Leg- 
 islatures may make such persons voters as they 
 please. They have chosen, with a few unimpor-
 
 64 JBssags on ©ovcrnment. 
 
 tant exceptions, to bestow the suffrage upon every 
 native man more than twenty-one years of age, 
 convicts, criminals, insane, and defective persons 
 alone excluded. In only one State in the Union is 
 there any longer a property qualification ; tax quali- 
 fications have disappeared except in two States. 
 Three States only, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and 
 Mississippi, disfranchise persons who are not able 
 to read and write, and in the last of these States 
 the provision is liberally interpreted so as to ex- 
 clude blacks and admit whites. Three additions 
 to the usual category of voters must be noticed. 
 In one State, Wyoming, the least important in the 
 Union, women are admitted to the suffrage. In all 
 the States naturalized aliens more than twenty-one 
 years of age vote on equal terms with natives : of 
 4,300,000 such persons 2,500,000 are naturalized. 
 The third addition is made in many States by 
 their admitting to the suffrage persons who have 
 declared their intention of becoming citizens. The 
 total number of voters in 1892 was about 14,675,- 
 000; the total vote reached 12,081,306. The sta- 
 tistics show in general a slow increase in the num- 
 ber of votes cast in proportion to the population — 
 that is, in interest in Presidential elections. The 
 election of 1892 is an exception ; the vote is smaller 
 in proportion than twelve years ago, probably a re- 
 sult of deliberate refusal on the part of many voters 
 to vote their usual party ticket. Of the voters who 
 do not appear at the polls, more than two-thirds
 
 jElcctlon of ipieslDcnt. 65 
 
 can be accounted for by various accidents : loss of 
 legal residence is very frequent in a country where 
 there is so much shifting about. The percentage 
 of voters to population is larger than in Ger- 
 many, a country with compact population, good 
 roads, and great interest in political matters. 
 
 The details of the election are commonly left to 
 State legislation, although Congress has constitu- 
 tional power to make such regulations as it chooses. 
 It has passed only one statute on the subject, mak- 
 ing it possible to appoint Federal supervisors of 
 elections in the great cities. The popular im- 
 pression of that act is that it was intended to 
 give the Republicans some control over the elec- 
 tions in the Democratic city of New York. In 
 1890 the so-called "Force Bill," a general Act pro- 
 viding for Federal control of elections throughout 
 the United States, came very near passing through 
 Congress. It was defeated only by a singular 
 political combination : certain Democratic mem- 
 bers and senators agreed to vote for free silver 
 coinage, if Republican senators would vote against 
 the election bill. The bill has been vigorously 
 attacked, and is now apparently dropped by the 
 Republican party, which made itself responsible 
 for it. 
 
 The only national rule for elections is that they 
 shall all be held on the same day. Since 1845 
 that day has been the Tuesday after the first Mon- 
 day in November. For many years some of the 
 5
 
 66 Essays on (Sorcrnment. 
 
 States continued to hold separate elections for 
 State officers in October. The results were likely 
 to have great influence on the national elections a 
 month later, and hence desperate attempts were 
 made by both parties to carry these States, and 
 large sums of money were used in the purchase of 
 votes. Ohio and Indiana were the States most 
 affected by this system. Almost every State now 
 holds its State election on the same day as the na- 
 tional election. The saving in time and expense 
 is very considerable, but the coincidence of the 
 two systems makes it possible to enter into so- 
 called "deals," "trades," or "combinations." 
 Thus it was popularly believed in New York in 
 1888 that some ten or fifteen thousand Repub- 
 lican voters agreed to cast their ballots for the 
 Democratic candidate for Governor if an equal 
 number of Democratic votes were cast for the Re- 
 publican candidate for Presidential electors; and 
 that the election of David B. Hill as Governor 
 and of Benjamin Harrison as President was thus 
 accomplished. In only one State in the Union is 
 an absolute majority required ; the ticket for 
 Presidential electors receiving the largest total of 
 votes is held to be chosen. Hence second elec- 
 tions are not necessary, and on the morning after 
 election day the result is almost always ascer- 
 tained. 
 
 The electors always live in the State from which 
 they are chosen, and it is customary to put on the
 
 TElcctton of picslDcnt. ^7 
 
 ticket one man from each congressional district. 
 Vacancies frequently occur by the death of elec- 
 tors between the time of their choice and the time 
 of meeting ; the question then arises whether in 
 such a case the candidate having the number of 
 votes next to that of the lowest elector on the 
 successful ticket shall be considered elected. As 
 this means a transfer of the vote from one political 
 party to the other the principle has been strenu- 
 ously resisted, and it is the practice for some 
 State authority to fill the vacancy. In the hotly 
 contested election of 1876 one vacancy was filled, 
 without any distinct statute, by the other electors 
 on the ticket. 
 
 It was originally intended that the choice of 
 electors should be simply a preliminary, and that 
 they should exercise their unbiassed judgment in 
 the selection of a President. Under ordinary cir- 
 cumstances, however, the electors are simply a 
 registering machine. The botiy of electors in 
 each State constitutes an " electoral college," and 
 each such body holds a meeting on the first Wed- 
 nesday of January for the purpose of casting bal- 
 lots. Absentees are almost unknown ; although 
 in 1800 a Maryland elector failed to attend. Un- 
 til 1804 each elector cast two ballots without dis- 
 tinsuishingr between his candidate for the Presi- 
 dency and his candidate for the Vice- Presidency. 
 This led to the celebrated deadlock of 1801, when 
 Jefferson and Burr each received one vote from
 
 68 Bssa^s on Government. 
 
 each of the Republican electors, and there was a 
 tie. Under the system which has obtained since 
 1804, each elector casts one vote for President 
 and one vote for Vice-President. The results of 
 the ballot in each college are then declared, and 
 the returns are sealed up and despatched to the 
 authorities of the United States in Washington. 
 The office of messenger to carry the ballots, espe- 
 cially from the distant States, is much esteemed, 
 since it gives an opportunity for a pleasure trip at 
 the expense of the Government. 
 
 In order to make their votes of any effect, the 
 electors must observe the constitutional qualifica- 
 tions of the President. He must be a natural born 
 citizen of the United States. At the time the 
 Constitution was framed there was an exception 
 in favor of persons already naturalized in the 
 United States ; this clause is supposed to have 
 been inserted so as to make Alexander Hamilton, 
 who was born in Nevis, eligible for the Presi- 
 dency. The only question which has ever arisen 
 out of this clause was a query as to whether 
 President Arthur was not born just over the Ver- 
 mont boundary in Canada. The President must 
 be thirty-five years old. He must have been four- 
 teen years a resident of the United States ; foreign 
 diplomatic service is technically included in such 
 a residence. The Vice-President must have the 
 same qualifications. There is no constitutional 
 reason why both President and Vice-President
 
 Blecttou of iprestOcnt. 69 
 
 should not reside in the same State, although it is 
 customary to choose them from widely separated 
 sections. 
 
 The whole question of qualification is rather 
 one for conventions than for electoral colleges, 
 since the electors vote for persons previously des- 
 ignated by nominating conventions. In 1876, 
 when the election turned upon a single vote, and 
 there was great confusion, it was suggested that 
 an elector should vote for some neutral candidate, 
 and thus bring about a tie which must be settled 
 by the House of Representatives. Not one of 
 the 183 Republican electors paid heed to this 
 suggestion. Some attempt was made at that 
 time to buy an elector's vote ; but in order to re- 
 ceive the bribe the elector must change in the face 
 of the whole country, and there is not the slightest 
 danger that such an attempt could be successful. 
 
 Electors have, however, been obliged to exercise 
 their own judgment, owing to the death of the 
 candidate for President or Vice-President between 
 the time of the election and the assembling of the 
 colleges. The most noted instance was that of 
 1872 : sixty-six Democratic electors were chosen, 
 pledged to vote for Horace Greeley for President 
 and for B, Gratz Brown for Vice - President. 
 Greeley died ; the electors were already in a small 
 minority, and finally forty-two of them voted for a 
 prominent living Democrat, eighteen for Brown 
 for President, and three soberly cast their ballots
 
 70 JEasags on (Bovcrnment. 
 
 for Horace Greelex^, or his shade. Should a can- 
 didate die who had a majority of electors in his 
 favor there is no precedent to decide what shall 
 be done. Either his supporters in the electoral 
 colleges would choose as President the person des- 
 ignated for the Vice- Presidency, or, as is much 
 more likely, a new national convention of the 
 party would be assembled and nominate a candi- 
 date ; and in such a case the nomination would 
 undoubtedly be followed by the electors. 
 
 On the first Wednesday in February the House 
 and Senate assemble together to count the elec- 
 toral vote. The framers of the Constitution ap- 
 pear to have had in mind the simple arithmetical 
 process of adding the results forwarded from the 
 electoral colleges ; but if, as has frequently hap- 
 pened, there are two sets of returns from the same 
 State, or the validity of the single return is dis- 
 puted, there must be some tribunal to decide 
 which is to be counted. The framers of the Con- 
 stitution appear to have overlooked this possible 
 difficulty. On that decision in 1876 depended the 
 result of the election. In 1865 a joint rule was 
 adopted by which, in case objection was made to 
 any vote, it could be counted only by agreement 
 of both Houses. At that time the Senate and 
 House were both strongly Republican, and in 
 1873 the votes of two States were rejected in this 
 manner. When, after the election of 1876, in which 
 Tilden and Hayes were the rival candidates, it
 
 jElectioii of ipvesiDent. 71 
 
 was seen that disputed returns were certain to 
 come in, the House was Democratic, and the Sen- 
 ate refused to continue the rule. In every in- 
 stance the House set up such a construction of 
 the law as was likely to bring in a Democratic re- 
 turn ; and the Senate attempted in every disputed 
 case to bring in a Republican return : there was 
 an absolute deadlock, and threats of civil war. 
 The difificulty was overcome by an extra-judicial 
 " Electoral Commission," the result of whose de- 
 cision the Senate and House had both asrreed to 
 accept. 
 
 An Act of 1887 has attempted to prevent the 
 recurrence of such difficulties. Wherever a State 
 has erected a tribunal with power to decide in 
 cases of disputed returns, the finding of that tri- 
 bunal is to be accepted by Congress. If there is 
 no such tribunal the vote of the State may be 
 thrown out altogether, unless both Houses concur 
 in receiving it. 
 
 Three times the count of electoral votes has 
 shown no choice. Under the Constitution the suc- 
 cessful candidate must have a majority of all the 
 votes. In 1800 Jefferson and Burr had each sev- 
 enty-three ; and, as is required in such cases, the 
 election then was made by the House of Repre- 
 sentatives, the members from each State casting 
 one vote conjointly. At that time the House was 
 Federalist, and both the persons eligible were Re- 
 publicans. Since the Federalists must select from
 
 72 jBsen^s on Government. 
 
 adversaries, at first they aimed to choose Burr, 
 who had been intended by his own party for the 
 Vice- Presidency. Excitement ran very high, till 
 the Federalists yielded and permitted the election 
 of Jefferson. In 1825 the House was called upon 
 to select the President from the three candidates, 
 Jackson, John Quincy Adams, and Crawford; and 
 they chose Adams, although he had fewer elec- 
 toral votes, and fewer popular votes, than Jackson. 
 In 1836 there was no choice for Vice-President, 
 and the Senate chose R. M. Johnson. 
 
 What was the purpose and the effect of this in- 
 direct vote ? It arose out of an unwillingness to 
 submit either to the people direct or to Congress 
 the choice of so important an officer. It was 
 thought that the indirect system would concen- 
 trate attention on personal character and would 
 prevent the election of mere popular heroes. 
 There was a very just distrust of permitting Con- 
 gress to serve as the electoral body ; it was felt 
 that candidates would intrigue, would make 
 pledges in advance, and thus that Congress would 
 be more likely to make the Executive its instru- 
 ment. It must be remembered that the President, 
 once chosen, is, under the Constitution, quite free 
 from any direct interference by Congress ; his po- 
 sition was, therefore, intentionally made different 
 from that of the English Prime Minister. To 
 leave his choice to Congress would have enabled 
 it to put a man in power whom for four years
 
 lElection of ipreslOcnt. 73 
 
 it could not reach, and the natural tendency of 
 that system must have been to bring forward 
 weak Presidents rather than strong. The system 
 of choice by the Legislature has been very suc- 
 cessful in Switzerland, but the present condition 
 of the President in the French Republic shows 
 what might have been reasonably apprehended in 
 America. 
 
 A general popular vote, a plebiscite, was not 
 thought of when the Constitution was framed in 
 1789; there never had been any general national 
 elections ; and it was plain that under such a sys- 
 tem a few populous States agreeing together could 
 out-weigh the rest of the Union. The indirect 
 system was therefore chosen, as retaining the ele- 
 ment of popular government, and at the same time 
 preserving the influence of the small States. 
 
 Many suggestions have been made that a general 
 popular election be substituted for the present sys- 
 tem. The " reform " would bring very serious dif- 
 ficulties. In case of very close votes like that of 
 1880, when there was a popular majority of 15,000 
 out of a vote of more than 9,000,000, it might take 
 many weeks to ascertain the precise vote of each 
 party, and thus to declare the election. The 
 States in which one party is decidedly in the as- 
 cendant would offer great opportunities for fraud, 
 since there is no large and well-organized minority 
 to detect it. Furthermore, of late years it is un- 
 usual for any candidate to have a majority of all
 
 74 Bssags on Government. 
 
 the popular votes, owing to the appearance of 
 third party candidates. 
 
 The main reason for establishing the indirect 
 system was to assure the small States that a Pres- 
 ident should not be forced upon them ; but the 
 unexpected and irregular growth of the Union has 
 caused some curious anomalies. Thus, New York 
 has a population of more than 6,000,000, and 
 chooses thirty-six electors, an average of one for 
 every 168,000 persons. Nevada has a population 
 of about 45,000, and chooses three electors, an av- 
 erage of about 15,000 persons to each elector. It 
 is quite possible for a President to be chosen who 
 has less than a majority of the votes. Zachary 
 Taylor, in 1848, was in a minority of 140,000. 
 James Buchanan, in 1856, General Garfield, in 
 1880, Grover Cleveland, in 1884 and in 1892, and 
 Benjamin Harrison, in 1888, each had less than 
 half the votes cast. Hayes was made President in 
 1877, though he had 250,000 less votes than Til- 
 den ; and in i860 President Lincoln received a 
 majority of the electoral votes, though he had but 
 1,800,000 votes against 2,800,000 cast for three 
 other candidates conjointly. Popular majorities 
 are sometimes overwhelming, as when General 
 Grant had 700,000 more than Horace Greeley in 
 1872; they are often very small. In 1844 Polk 
 had but 38,000, Since 1872 the aggregate vote of 
 the two great parties has been very close. It is 
 evident that sons as they come to their maturity
 
 Blectlon of ipiesiDent. 75 
 
 usually vote as their fathers have voted. The 
 Democratic success in the Congressional election 
 of 1890, and apparently also in the Presidential 
 election of 1892, was due not to the conversion of 
 voters from one party to another, but to the fact 
 that many thousands of Republican electors stayed 
 away in thickly populated electoral districts. 
 
 Intimidation and fraud have played a great part 
 in Presidential elections. In 1874 the Democrats 
 regained possession of the State governments in 
 the South, and of the House of Representatives 
 in Congress, by preventing the blacks from vot- 
 inp' : and six or seven hundred thousand negro 
 voters stayed away from the polls in 1892. The 
 only Presidential elections into which ballot stuff- 
 ing and fraudulent counting of votes have seriously 
 entered are those of 1844 and 1876. The Demo- 
 crats of 1844 carried Louisiana for Polk by in- 
 creasing their vote in one parish from 310 to i,- 
 007. These votes were cast by a crowd of men 
 on a steamer, who moved from polling place to 
 polling place, depositing their ballots in each. 
 
 The complicated electoral machinery takes more 
 account of the State vote than of the popular 
 vote. Usually every State holds its electoral col- 
 lege, but in the very first election of 1788 New 
 York, owing to a quarrel in the Legislature, cast 
 no votes at all. Several times States have at- 
 tempted to vote before they were fairly admitted 
 to the Union. This was the case with Missouri,
 
 ^6 E0sa\>3 Qiw Government. 
 
 which was not finally admitted until after the elec- 
 tion of 1820, but succeeded in getting her vote 
 counted in that election. In 1864 eleven States 
 had no representation in the electoral college be- 
 cause they were engaged in civil war against the 
 Government; and as late as 1872 two of those 
 States were still not allowed to vote. There is a 
 strong feeling of civic pride in casting the vote of 
 a State as a unit, hence the deep-seated popular 
 objection to the choice of electors by districts. 
 The effect of this unit vote is seen by the fact that 
 in nine Presidential elections the person elected 
 could not have been chosen without the vote of 
 New York. It is in this way that the voters of 
 the great States gain what they have lost by the 
 giving of electoral votes to the small frontier 
 States ; and it is this which has given such ex- 
 traordinary political force to the so-called "Mug- 
 wumps." They are a body of a few thousand 
 men, found chiefly in Massachusetts and New 
 York, and drawn, for the most past, from the Re- 
 publican party, who cannot be depended upon to 
 vote for any candidate whom they do not person- 
 ally approve. The retention of 600 of their votes 
 by Mr, Blaine in 1884, would have given him the 
 Presidency. 
 
 Many of the forty-four States in the Union can 
 be depended upon from decade to decade to vote 
 for the candidate of a particular party. Texas has 
 never cast its electoral vote for any but a Demo-
 
 Election of iprcslDent. 11 
 
 crat ; Minnesota, Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode 
 Island, and Iowa have uniformly cast Republican 
 votes for President since the party was founded in 
 1856. In 1892 several States of this character, as 
 Illinois and Kansas, were at last detached. This 
 result was due chiefly to the growth of third party 
 movements. With few exceptions, since the Con- 
 stitution was founded the votes in the electoral 
 college have gone for one of two candidates. From 
 i860 to 1888 there were no electoral votes except 
 Republican and Democratic, although in 1880 a 
 labor candidate got 300,000 popular votes. The 
 third party movements arc often successful in 
 State politics ; they may obtain a majority in the 
 Legislature, or even elect a governor ; but they 
 make no figure in the Presidential election unless 
 they have at least a plurality of all the votes cast 
 in some State. The three great exceptions to this 
 principle have been the elections of 1824, i860, and 
 1892. The first was a personal struggle between 
 four candidates not differing essentially among 
 themselves in political principles. In the election 
 of i860 the Democratic party was split, and the 
 two great elements of the Republican party had 
 not yet got together, so that four candidates re- 
 ceived electoral votes. In 1892 four States and 
 one elector in a fifth State cast their votes for the 
 " nominee" of a " People's Party." The adoption 
 of the system of proportional representation by 
 which each party in each State should receive a
 
 7S iBeen^e on ©ovcininciit. 
 
 number of electors proportioned to its share of the 
 total vote would greatly encourage third parties, 
 since it would enable them to gain a few votes in 
 many States, and their total might give them the 
 balance of power between the two great parties, 
 thus preventing a choice by electors. It would 
 also increase the interest in elections ; at present 
 there is no political object to be served by bring- 
 ing out a large vote in the sure States. Should 
 this system be adopted — and any State has the 
 constitutional right to establish it for itself — a few 
 third party electors from each of the several States 
 would combine into a powerful and compact mi- 
 nority, perhaps able to dictate to the other parties. 
 On the same day as the Presidential election 
 comes the choice of representatives for the first 
 Congress which will sit under the new President ; 
 and in many States the Legislatures are chosen 
 which are later to elect senators. November 8, 
 1892, was, therefore, an opportunity for the expres- 
 sion of popular approval or disapproval of the ad- 
 ministration then in power. The electoral machin- 
 ery is so peculiar that a change in the Presidency, 
 the Senate, and the Plouse, all through one elec- 
 tion, is very unusual; since 1874 there have been 
 but two occasions on which all these three branches 
 of the legislating power have been elected from 
 the same party. The Senate changes so slowly 
 that it practically remains as the bulwark for the 
 defeated party until it can recover its strength. In
 
 jElection of picsiDcnt. 79 
 
 1876, and again in 1880, the House of Representa- 
 tives, elected at the same time as the Republican 
 Presidents Hayes and Garfield, was Democratic. 
 The result, when the Houses are of different par- 
 ties, is a great loss of efificiency ; each House tries 
 to throw upon the other the responsibility for bad 
 legislation, and each tries, to use a current political 
 phrase, "to put the other in a hole" by forcing it 
 to take issue on some question against its will. 
 Hence the control of the Senate by the Demo- 
 crats, a result of the State elections of 1892, is an 
 unusually rapid change, and is promising for good 
 government. 
 
 The Presidential election always arouses greater 
 interest than any local or State election. For at 
 least two months the country is in an uproar ; 
 great political meetings are held ; there are torch- 
 light processions ; throughout the Union there 
 are local committees in charge of the " campaign," 
 and these report to their State committee and 
 through it to the national. Money is raised by 
 the national committee, apportioned among the 
 States, and sub-divided so as to reach the points 
 where it can accomplish most. The last days be- 
 fore the election are days of intense excitement. 
 In 1880, just before the election a facsimile of a 
 letter advocating the use of Chinese labor, at- 
 tributed to General Garfield, was spread broadcast 
 throughout the country by the National Demo- 
 cratic Committee. General Garfield instantly de-
 
 8o Bssags on Government. 
 
 nied that the letter was his, and it was afterward 
 shown to be a clumsy forgery. The Democratic 
 Committee, however, declined to withdraw it, and 
 the result was that in California the Republican 
 vote was so much reduced that five Republican 
 electors failed to be chosen. It was generally felt 
 that this was an unworthy trick, and it is not 
 likely to be repeated. 
 
 On the night of the election, messengers fur- 
 nished beforehand by the rival parties, transmit 
 the results to the nearest telegraph office as soon 
 as the count is made. By midnight the de- 
 spatches begin to come in to the great cities, and 
 a comparatively small number of returns suffices 
 to show whether the tide is setting one way or the 
 other. The candidates usually have private wires 
 leading to their houses, and are furnished with 
 early returns. By three o'clock in the morning 
 the newspapers have a fairly accurate report. The 
 next day the results are known throughout the 
 Union, and within two days the excitement and 
 bad feeling of the campaign have disappeared. 
 Whichever candidate is chosen the people settle 
 down, accept the inevitable, and there is a general 
 feeling of relief that business may go on for a time 
 untroubled by political questions.
 
 IV. 
 
 DO THE PEOPLE WISH CIVIL SER- 
 VICE REFORM? 
 
 President Harrison, in his first annual mes- 
 sage, said : 
 
 " When those holding administrative offices so 
 conduct themselves as to convince just political 
 opponents that no party consideration or bias 
 affects in any way the discharge of their public 
 duties, we can more easily stay the demand for 
 removals." 
 
 Senator Blair, of New Hampshire, is reported 
 recently to have remarked : 
 
 " Civil service reform is a humbug ; the law 
 should be blotted from the statute book; I defy 
 anyone to show one single instance where benefit 
 has resulted from it." 
 
 Mr. George William Curtis, in an address de- 
 livered October i, i88g, asserted that 
 
 " A conservative and patriotic intelligence . . . 
 has already extorted from party a profession of re- 
 6 (8i)
 
 82 Ejjsags on ©ovciument. 
 
 form. It will presently compel a policy of reform. 
 The advance is sure." 
 
 These diverse authorities all tacitly assume that 
 they are expressing the wish of the people upon 
 an important question in their government. It is 
 not a new question. It is now twenty-six years 
 since Mr. Jenckes first began the agitation to 
 which the clumsy name "civil service reform " has 
 become affixed. An important act on the subject 
 is now in the tenth year of its operation. That 
 act, as applied by three presidents in succession, 
 now covers about 43,800 servants of the govern- 
 ment, out of the nearly 180,000 persons employed 
 in all civil capacities by the United States. At 
 the present moment the friends of the reform are 
 urging a further extension to numerous classes of 
 officials. On the other hand, bills for the repeal 
 of the act have repeatedly been introduced by 
 influential members of both parties. 
 
 The writer believes that the evils of political 
 appointments are such as will eventually destroy 
 popular government, if they are not checked ; and 
 that the remedies already applied are good, so far 
 as they go. This essay, however, will be devoted 
 to a different phase of the question. Leaving out 
 of account the eager hopes of the reformers, whose 
 task is not that of raising difficulties, and the ob- 
 jections of enemies, who are prone to lay stress on 
 small defects of detail, the effort will be made to
 
 Clvtl Service IReforin. 83 
 
 find out what the people at large think about the 
 matter, why the reform languishes, and what hope 
 there is of arousing public interest. For, under a 
 popular government, it is the sentiment of the 
 man of average intelligence, education, character, 
 and public spirit that must in the long run decide 
 such questions. 
 
 The difficulty of ascertaining the dominant will 
 of a large number of persons is so great that we 
 shall try first to discover how the chosen represen- 
 tatives of the people look on the question of re- 
 form ; and as every law depends for its final effect 
 upon the executive, let us see how that branch of 
 the government stands. In this case mere neu- 
 trality, a mere perfunctory execution of the law, is 
 worth little. The terms of the Pendleton Act of 
 1883 leave it to the discretion of the president, for 
 the time being, whether any appointments shall 
 be made for merit ; and even that act provides no 
 bar against removals for oolitical cause. The atti- 
 tude of the president may certainly be assumed to 
 be rather beyond than behind popular sentiment ; 
 for the president is a man accustomed to public 
 affairs, and likely to feel the importance of " the 
 king's business." Every president wishes to have 
 a good, honest, successful, and popular administra- 
 tion ; and would, if left to himself, make few 
 changes, save among the advisory officers of the 
 government. But administrative reformers must 
 admit that no president is left to himself. He is
 
 84 jEssags on Government. 
 
 deflected by the consideration of his political debts, 
 by the effort to make sure a re-election, or by the 
 influence of his counsellors. Equally important, 
 though far less noticed, is the personal pressure of 
 friends whom a president likes to gratify. Still 
 stronger is the consciousness of possessing the 
 power to make a career for one's fellow-men. 
 When presidents consume their time in docketing 
 applications for offices, it is because the compari- 
 son of candidates brings a tickling sense of imme- 
 diate power, not brought by the inauguration of a 
 foreign policy or the championship of a reform. 
 A president does what seems to him most impor- 
 tant. For this very reason he is unwilling to for- 
 feit that good-will and support of the members of 
 his party in Congress that is necessary to carry 
 through the statesmanlike measures dear to his 
 heart. It is no wonder that no president, except 
 Grant, has ever attempted distinctly to lead pub- 
 lic opinion in this reform. 
 
 From the heads of departments, who come di- 
 rectly into contact with the working force of the 
 government, we might expect a greater sense of the 
 harm produced by frequent changes ; and many 
 of them are grateful for the relief afforded by the 
 Civil Service act. Yet few of them have ever 
 had the courage, within their own departments, to 
 make the unwritten rule that no faithful and quiet 
 official shall be discharged. If they and if the 
 presidents strictly enforce the law as they find it
 
 Civil Service IRefoim. 85 
 
 on the statute book, and use their discretion 
 gradually to extend the rules, they do as much 
 as the average man expects. 
 
 To measure public sentiment, and to determine 
 the responsibility for action, we must therefore go 
 back from the executors of the law to the makers of 
 the law. Much otherwise useful political philoso- 
 phy is based on the mistaken premise that the mem- 
 bers of Congress are devoid of public spirit, sin- 
 cerity, and honor. The average congressman is 
 more alive to the evils of political appointments 
 than the average constituent. But if congressmen, 
 like presidents, have friends and political ties, they, 
 too, enjoy office-broking, from the very pleasure of 
 earning gratitude, or of doing their " duty to their 
 constituents." Some of them willingly accept the 
 position of keeper of a political intelligence ofifice 
 for their constituents. On the whole, perhaps the 
 strongest reason for the lukewarm support given 
 by members of Congress to the reform, is a liking 
 for political excitement — an absorbing interest 
 which takes the place of the artistic and literary 
 interest of older communities. Though every 
 congressman, once in, may see that if the merit 
 system were altogether established he would be 
 relieved of importunities, and perhaps of factions, 
 he wishes to be re-elected ; and defeat, for want of 
 offices to distribute, is to him political annihila- 
 tion. Neither party has ever taken up adminis- 
 trative reform as a caucus measure; an individual
 
 86 jEssays on (Boveinmcnt. 
 
 may therefore oppose the reform without losing 
 his political standing. No party leader could 
 hope to detach a few votes from the other party, 
 in order to give him a working majority in favor 
 of a telling program of reform ; and therefore 
 no party leader has made the reform his own. 
 From Congress, then, of its own motion, little is 
 to be expected. Congressmen will be nerved to 
 make further extensions of the law, and to vote 
 appropriations, if they believe that the reform is 
 popular. The constitution of the House Com- 
 mittee on Civil Service Reform, both in the Fifty- 
 first Congress (1889-91) and the Fifty-second 
 Congress (1891-93), is therefore encouraging, since 
 it seems to show that both parties are in a respect- 
 ful mood toward the reform as it stands. 
 
 The reformers are not satisfied as things stand; 
 they wish the whole business of the government 
 put on a better footing. Here come in certain 
 neglected peculiarities of the American system of 
 government, for which no person can be held re- 
 sponsible, but which seriously complicate the ques- 
 tion of an advance in the reform. The slogan of 
 the reformers is " Government business on business 
 principles ; " but nobody save the Nationalists 
 believes that the government can conduct its busi- 
 ness as does an insurance company, or a railroad, 
 or a bank. In the first place, its business is not 
 done for a profit ; any express company that 
 should undertake to carry four-pound packages at
 
 Civil Service "Reform. 87 
 
 the same rate to the suburbs of New York and to 
 the Crazy Mountains, would find it necessary to re- 
 organize its system of appointments. The United 
 States Government does a vast variety of business. 
 At Washington it has a great staff of administra- 
 tive officers, accountants, clerks, copyists, and ex- 
 perts, all easily made amenable to the same dis- 
 cipline. In the cities there are custom-houses and 
 post-offices too large to be compared even with 
 the branches of great English joint-stock banks. 
 On the sparsely settled frontiers, and every- 
 where throughout the country, are the small post- 
 offices with inconsiderable incomes. In the foreign 
 countries are the legations and consulates, with 
 their peculiar functions. It is evident that the 
 same system of selection cannot possibly be ap- 
 plied to all these branches of service. Again, the 
 amount of government business is prodigious. In 
 1790 the population was 4,000,000; the revenue, 
 about $3,000,000 ; and the number of officials, per- 
 haps 2,000. In 1830, for 13,000,000 people, 50,000 
 officials collected $25,000,000. In i860, population, 
 revenue, and officials were 31,000,000, $56,000,000, 
 and, perhaps, 80,000, respectively. In 1893 the 65,- 
 000,000 people will raise $400,000,000 through the 
 medium of perhaps 200,000 persons. Indeed, this 
 vast increase of business is one of the principal rea- 
 sons for a reform. The government has long since 
 outgrown its shell, and abuses of little account in 
 1830 will be fatal if not checked before 1930.
 
 88 jBeesL'QS on ©overnmcnt. 
 
 The great variety and amount of government 
 business make it exceedingly difficult to apply 
 the reformed system in a uniform manner to all 
 branches of the service, even by the most varied 
 tests, most skilfully applied. It is not very hard 
 to convince an intelligent man that some better 
 principle of selection can be found than mere po- 
 litical influence. But the problem for the reform- 
 ers is to set forth a practical system for the minor 
 appointments. The principle of competitive ex- 
 amination for clerkships may be considered estab- 
 lished ; filling the higher grades by promotion 
 among tried subordinates, seems to have the ap- 
 proval of men no less influential than the Post- 
 master-General and the President of the United 
 States. The present efficient and untiring Civil 
 Service Commission may be depended upon to 
 make examinations impartial, and to make them 
 sensible. The real cntx of civil service reform is 
 how to provide for the country postmasters, who 
 are by far the largest class of federal officials, and 
 who come most closely of all into contact with 
 the people. To leave the country postmasters to 
 the present system of dictation by members of 
 Congress, is to leave the reform incomplete. There 
 is no constitutional power for electing postmasters 
 or any other national officials save the president, 
 vice-president, senators and members of the 
 House of Representatives. Examinations or other 
 competitive tests can hardly be applied to offices
 
 Ctvll Service Kefovm. 89 
 
 having emoluments so small, and for which the 
 candidates are so few. The country post-ofifices 
 must almost always be carried on by people who 
 have other business, and carried on in their places 
 of business ; it is not with us as in Germany, where 
 the smallest government ofifice brings with it social 
 prestige and a special title of respect, and where 
 there is a chance of transfer and promotion. That 
 this difficult problem can be solved, is shown by 
 the experience of England, where inspectors rec- 
 ommend such appointments, with a view to the 
 greatest convenience to the community ; but when 
 shall we have a staff of inspectors entirely secure 
 from removal if they recommend a man who does 
 not vote with the party in power ? In England, 
 the fact that the telegraph business is done in local 
 post-offices, makes it easier to furnish employment 
 suf^cient to take the whole time of one person. 
 
 The difificulties that we have just been discus- 
 sing are inherent ; they would exist were the peo- 
 ple at large heartily interested in administrative 
 reform. They are more serious because public 
 opinion is apathetic. In the first place, the prin- 
 ciple of rotation in ofifice is firmly fixed in the 
 minds of the American people. It rules the choice 
 of legislators, executive officers, and judges; it ap- 
 pears alike in federal, state, local, and municipal 
 government. When the Constitution was framed, 
 in 1787, it adopted the principles of appointment 
 and removal then common in the States ; brief
 
 90 Eseags on (Sovci-nmeut. 
 
 legislative terms, but re-elections frequent ; elected 
 chief executives ; appoiitted administrative officers, 
 with unrestricted tenure ; judges appointed for life. 
 As the suffrage was extended, a change came over 
 the States ; as party spirit ran high, as men learned 
 to elbow their way into political life, re-elections 
 grew less frequent. In 1790, sixty-four percent, 
 of the members of the Connecticut Legislature 
 had sat in it before; in 1889, only five per cent. 
 Throughout the States, heads of executive depart- 
 ments were made elective ; a system of party pro- 
 scription of all appointive offices was established. 
 Even the judiciary has been made elective in most 
 States. Rotation, rapid rotation, has become the 
 accepted principle of State politics. Where State 
 constitutions set barriers. State constitutions have 
 been easily amended. 
 
 There has been precisely the same process in the 
 United States Government, so far as it could go. 
 Congressmen are less and less certain of re-election. 
 Since Jackson, no appointed official could be sure of 
 his place longer than the term of the president who 
 appointed him. The immense difficulty of amend- 
 ing the federal Constitution has been the sole pro- 
 tection of the judges. To only one other class of 
 federal officers has a like protection been accorded. 
 The experience of the revolutionary and later wars 
 taught the people that the army and navy must 
 have trained and permanent officers, because theirs 
 is a highly technical profession ; they, therefore,
 
 Clvd Service IRcfoim. 9^ 
 
 are by law entitled to a trial by court-martial be- 
 fore dismissal. 
 
 With these exceptions, rotation is established 
 as the principle of national government. Com- 
 paratively few congressmen serve beyond two 
 terms; outside the classified service, few officials 
 see the seventh year of government employment. 
 Taking official service of every kind, municipal, 
 state, and national, throughout the United States, 
 the average time during which men who have en- 
 tered the public service remain in public life, in 
 any capacity, is probably not four years. It is 
 evident, therefore, that the people see no injury to 
 the public interests in frequent changes of officers. 
 
 There is a feeling that public offices of any kind 
 are common property ; that the right to hold 
 them, like the right to pre-empt government land, 
 is a natural incident of citizenship. A still deeper 
 reason for the slow growth of the reform is the 
 lack of confidence in expert knowledge of every 
 kind. Self-confidence is a part of the heritage of 
 a race whose traditions are those of frontier life. 
 The average man likes to feel that he can do any- 
 thing, up to setting a tire or conducting a diplo- 
 matic negotiation. It is not government alone 
 that suffers from this exaggerated self-reliance; in 
 the most technical professions there is an indispo- 
 sition to accept the results of concentrated special 
 study. It is well known that the old Capitol at 
 Washington was designed by a physician whose
 
 92 jEssags on ©oveinment. 
 
 architectural training consisted of two weeks' 
 study in the Philadelphia Library. Nevertheless, 
 in architecture, engineering, law, medicine, and 
 kindred professions, it is coming to be recognized 
 that a careful scientific preparation is indispensable. 
 But in more occult matters, such as plumbing, 
 alms-giving, and government, the people still work 
 by rule of thumb ; nobody seems to consider it 
 unusual that the New York Board of Electrical 
 Control has not one member who is an electrician. 
 Is it strange that most men deem themselves com- 
 petent to take up the administration of a post- 
 office, a custom house, or a bureau of the treasury ? 
 
 There is a similar want of clearness about the 
 relations of officers of the government to the peo- 
 ple. The average man sees no essential difference 
 between an elective officer, an executive officer 
 having a political responsibility, and a simple ad- 
 ministrative officer. He knows that the first 
 class, the elective officers, change as often as the 
 sovereign people change their minds; he knows 
 that in all governments, officers who help to carry 
 out the political policy of the government are 
 changed when an administration changes; why 
 should the third class be more favored ? 
 
 Singularly enough, the argument that frequent 
 change, with the consequent loss of acquired skill, 
 is costly, has very little weight in the country 
 at large. Americans pay the price for the best 
 government, and accept an inferior article. The
 
 Cfvtl Service IRefonn. 93 
 
 reformers find it hard to bring home to the average 
 man the truth that an expensive government 
 causes expense to him. Ever since the civil war, 
 " the government " has seemed to millions of peo- 
 ple a kind of productive abstraction. Indeed, why- 
 should a man concern himself about wastefulness 
 in federal business, when he sees greater wasteful- 
 ness in his local paving and street cleaning or 
 school-house construction ? Prodigality of govern- 
 ment is closely connected with prodigality in pri- 
 vate expenditure ; it is a fault of a country rapidly 
 growing rich. The total burden of federal taxa- 
 ation is but $6 annually for each person, and it is 
 so levied as to be too little felt. In this, as in 
 many other ways, the demoralizing effect of a sur- 
 plus has hindered reform. Again, the actual cost 
 of the federal service and the actual number of 
 persons employed are never stated to the people, 
 and in fact are unknown to the officers of govern- 
 ment. Eventually, as population increases and 
 virgin soil and virgin forests are exhausted, the 
 conditions of life will be more severe, and Ameri- 
 cans will feel the cost of government as they do 
 that of overcoats or of butcher's meat. 
 
 On the other hand, the government service is 
 looked upon by many worthy people as an asylum 
 for the unfortunate. Much of the public indiffer- 
 ence to the reform is due to a culpable good 
 nature, which finds it easier to recommend a man 
 to the government than to give him private em-
 
 94 JEgsa^s on Government, 
 
 ployment. It is rather remarkable that this sym- 
 pathy with the unfortunate does not extend to the 
 present holders of offices and their dependent 
 families. There seems to be little popular feeling 
 that there is a hardship in depriving a man of a 
 place in which he has made himself valuable, and 
 obliging him to learn a new calling. 
 
 It cannot be said that the examination system 
 of testing candidates for appointment is a popular 
 system. It is efficient, is approved by the experi- 
 ence of other countries, and is the only system at 
 present possible which secures an equal chance to 
 every qualified citizen. Still, it is an unfamiliar 
 system, little used in private business. It is for 
 this reason that malicious errors about examina- 
 tion papers and questions circulate, and are doubt- 
 less widely accepted. Any one may disprove the 
 assertions that candidates are examined in the 
 geography of China, or the principles of quadratic 
 equations, by turning to a report of the national 
 Civil Service Commission : but the average man 
 uses no reports save those of 
 
 *' Fama malum qua non aliud velocius ullum.''^ 
 
 There is in the popular mind an intimate con- 
 nection between written examinations and text- 
 books, county superintendents, college rushes, and 
 unpractical professors. Competitive examination 
 is not acclimated, and must establish itself by its 
 own success. There is a widespread delusion,
 
 dlvil Scvvtcc IRefocm. 95 
 
 also, that a man appointed on examination cannot 
 be removed for incompetency. 
 
 Even were the impolicy and wastefulness of the 
 usual system of appointments much more generally 
 felt than they now are, it would still prevail; 
 politics is to many minds an absorbing sport, pur- 
 sued under rules and limitations, as are baseball or 
 boating. The hidden work of politics — the forma- 
 tion of combinations, the elaboration of " slates," 
 the arrangement of " deals " — is a pursuit. To 
 take all appointive United States offices out of 
 politics, would be like removing the championship 
 among league baseball teams from all the uncer- 
 tainties of contest. It is of course an exploded 
 error to suppose that the votes fall off when the 
 spoils are no part of the prizes, and politicians 
 begin to suspect that patronage is at best a two- 
 edged weapon. Nevertheless, three-fourths of 
 the gambling element in politics — chance, " dark 
 horses," "stuffed " ballot-boxes, "bosses," and po- 
 litical " deals " — would disappear if all appoint- 
 ments were made for merit ; and a great many 
 people enjoy the gambling element. The unfor- 
 tunate connection between local and national par- 
 ties, so clearly pointed out by Mr. Bryce, makes 
 federal offices seem an essential part of the stakes 
 in state and municipal contests. In a word, not 
 only parties and politicians, but a great number 
 of the people, like the " fun " of the present sys- 
 tem.
 
 9^ jEssags on ©overnincnt. 
 
 If the question of reform could be separated 
 from all others, it is probable that a decided ma- 
 jority in its favor could be made up ; for the spirit 
 of the American people is a spirit of honesty, 
 thrift, and fair dealing. Here comes in the influ- 
 ence of inertia. It took thirty years to bring the 
 slavery conflict to a crisis, and even then it was 
 not the abolitionist who provoked it. The meth- 
 od of collecting revenue is not reformed; the 
 iniquities and inequalities in the tariff are not 
 corrected ; why should a cold, unimpassioned re- 
 form like that of the civil service, with no sectional 
 representatives to blow the coals, no special inter- 
 ests to make their plea, expect to proceed more 
 swiftly? The present policy of the reformers in 
 urging one small step after another, is very prom- 
 ising ; for every improvement of the law, every 
 extension of the rules, brings political inertia to 
 bear in favor of the reform. The present law is 
 narrow, is imperfect, and is but permissive upon 
 the president ; for that very reason infractions are 
 more seriously felt. 
 
 What, then, is the conclusion to be drawn ? Do 
 the people wish administrative reform ? Yes, they 
 wish it; but very much as they wish virtue and 
 the rights of man. They wish the reform brought 
 about, but brought about by somebody else, with- 
 out responsibility on them or on their legislators. 
 On the other hand, they make it clear to their 
 representatives and to the political parties, that
 
 Civil Service IRetonn. 97 
 
 the reform is not a thing that is safe to oppose. 
 The people wish the executive to enforce it impar- 
 tially. They wish the Civil Service Commission 
 to show pluck ; and the vigorous action of the 
 commission, wherever it finds evasion of the law, 
 will have the hearty approval of public sentiment. 
 There is at least an uneasy feeling that the present 
 system is a poor system. The unwearied efforts 
 of reformers to arouse public sentiment on this 
 subject have been slow but powerful influences in 
 moulding popular feeling. The reform, therefore, 
 seems likely slowly to advance. It can never be 
 complete until the sovereign people forget that 
 there is any other ground for appointment to 
 clerical office, state, municipal, or national, save 
 merit, ascertained by some impartial test. 
 7
 
 V. 
 
 THE CHILEAN CONTROVERSY. 
 
 A STUDY OF AMERICAN INTERNATIONAL POLITICS. 
 
 When, on September 25, 1887, a frontier guard, 
 by a discharge across the boundary between Ger- 
 many and France, killed a French subject, 
 Boiguen, Europe was aghast. Behind the inci- 
 dent, in itself of little importance, stood the pride, 
 hatred, and resentment of the two most powerful 
 military states of the world. Millions of men 
 stood ready to move at a day's notice ; the credit 
 of nations fell ; diplomats and generals conferred ; 
 a war of vast proportions and incalculable conse- 
 quences seemed at hand. Cooler counsels pre- 
 vailed ; the German government disclaimed re- 
 sponsibility and expressed regret ; and the world 
 slowly subsided into peace. 
 
 We in America self-complacently congratulated 
 ourselves that we were exposed to no such alarms ; 
 that wars and the rumors of wars were far from 
 our borders ; that we had no great standing army, 
 and were opposed by none ; that peace was our 
 
 (98)
 
 Zlic Chilean Contiovciss. 99 
 
 portion, and a latent but dignified strength the 
 protection of the nation against aggressions ; that 
 we neither gave offence to our neighbors nor feared 
 offence at their hands. 
 
 On October i6, 1891, a party of more than a hun- 
 dred sailors from the United States ship of war 
 Baltimore went ashore in the Chilean port of Val- 
 paraiso. A few hours later a riot arose, and two of 
 them were killed and eighteen wounded. Sud- 
 denly the same excitement fell upon us as had 
 fallen on the French in 1887. A hundred thou- 
 sand dollars' worth of telegrams passed to and 
 from our minister in Chile ; the press teemed with 
 an evanescent but angry war-talk ; naval prepara- 
 tions were made. After three months of this agita- 
 tion the President of the United States, in an of- 
 ficial message, laid upon Congress the responsibil- 
 ity of deciding whether there were not cause for 
 war. The next day an apology was made by 
 Chile, and the matter quickly gave way in the 
 public interest to the question whether a " blue- 
 nose " skipper should f\y the flag of his country in 
 American waters. 
 
 The Chilean question has therefore ceased to 
 exist, and it is not worth while to discuss its de- 
 tails, or to try to apportion the responsibility in 
 exact measure between the two governments and 
 their respective officials. But the real issue in 
 the whole matter is not the Chilean question ; it 
 is the American question. Whether Chile was or
 
 loo jEsea^s en Government. 
 
 was not belligerent, dilatory, and obstinate is now 
 a matter which chiefly affects the Chileans and 
 their government. What it concerns us to know 
 is whether the United States has taken up a new 
 position toward our American neighbors ; whether 
 any new principle has been introduced into 
 American affairs ; whether the United States is to 
 join the assemblage of the world's great powers, 
 and to take part in general international disputes. 
 
 The purpose of this essay is, therefore, to 
 take up the relations of the United States with 
 Chile in 1891-92 as a study in international poli- 
 tics, using the incidents of the controversy as 
 types of certain tendencies of our national policy. 
 This is in no sense a party question ; there is noth- 
 ing in the attitude of the administration to show 
 that a different party would have followed a dif- 
 ferent policy. It is not a question of individual 
 statesmen : we may differ from the views of the 
 President and Secretary of State, but no candid ob- 
 server will deny their intention of promoting the in- 
 terests of the United States, as they saw them. It 
 is simply a question of what kind of public policy 
 will make our country strongest and most influen- 
 tial, within and without. 
 
 The discussion of such a question is the right 
 of every loyal American. There is a school of 
 political thinkers who hold that criticism of one's 
 country, or the policy of one's country, is like 
 open criticism of a mother by her children. Such
 
 ^be Cbdean Controversy:'-,.' ;'',,' iQi*, ': 
 
 '- ' ■ ■ ■ ^ ^^' ; 
 
 a principle may answer in a" co-Jfitfy liks Gef--, .' ,' 
 many, the ruler of which avows to his military 
 subjects that he is their " war-lord," and that they 
 must shoot down their brothers at his command. 
 We are not sons of our country ; we are our 
 country. Republican government is a political 
 joint-stock company, in which every citizen is a 
 member, with a fundamental right to object, but 
 not to disobey. He may protest at the assess- 
 ments levied upon him. provided he pays them ; 
 he may object to opening up new foreign connec- 
 tions, provided he submits when they are opened 
 up. As the most useful graduates of a college are 
 sometimes those who point out faults in its ad- 
 ministration, and the most useful members of a 
 party are often those who protest against bad 
 leaders, so it is no mark of lack of patriotism to 
 inquire whether our beloved country — which we 
 all believe to be the best in the world — is applying 
 to other nations the principles which we expect to 
 see applied to ourselves. 
 
 The two parties to the Chilean controversy, 
 though very different in power, have many com- 
 mon characteristics. Like the American colonies, 
 the Chileans in colonial times were less subject 
 to the control of the mother country than their 
 neighbors. Like the United States, they achieved 
 their independence early, and have since main- 
 tained the most vigorous and least disturbed of 
 all the Latin-American £rovernments. A decided
 
 i02 i£sen^s on Government. 
 
 p're'fei'e'hce for republican institutions, as they un- 
 derstand them, again connects the two countries. 
 In addition to their Spanish strain, which is the 
 main European stock in Chile, flourishing grafts 
 of English and x\merican blood are evident in the 
 names of several of the Chilean public men : among 
 them are Admiral Lynch, Judge Foster, who made 
 the investigation into the Baltimore affair, and 
 Ricardo L. Trumbull, unofficial envoy to the 
 United States, and a descendant of that Jonathan 
 Trumbull who was the original Brother Jonathan. 
 The Chileans have been a progressive people, im- 
 proving their resources, showing keen commercial 
 ability, and known in the shipping trade as the 
 " Yankees of South America." This enterprising 
 spirit has taken the form of territorial growth. In 
 i88i Chile secured a confirmation of claims to 
 Western Patagonia, and in the same year forced 
 Peru to cede a strip of desert on the border of the 
 two countries, formerly the Peruvian province of 
 Atacama. The region is one of the most arid on 
 the face of the earth. It is so utterly desolate and 
 devoid of streams that there is a story of a Peru- 
 vian admiral who, during the war, found that the 
 guns of his ships commanded on shore the con- 
 denser with which an invading Chilean army was 
 procuring the water necessary for its onward march. 
 A few shots might have destroyed it. The Peru- 
 vian declared that he could fight men, but not 
 leave them to die of thirst ; and so he steamed
 
 Q:be Cf3(lean Coiiti-oversg. 103 
 
 away. Within that desolate region lies one of the 
 great treasures of the earth — a nitrate deposit of 
 almost inexhaustible extent, awaiting only the ap- 
 plication of sufficient capital to enrich the country 
 which owns it. In this great mass of " portable 
 property " lies one of the obscure sources of the 
 Chilean war, and perhaps of American firmness. 
 The two parties to the civil war in Chile were 
 each connected with a syndicate of capitalists for 
 the development of the nitrate beds, and if war 
 had broken out between the United States and 
 Chile, the nitrate beds might have eventually be- 
 come security for an indemnity. 
 
 In situation and in population the two countries 
 are very different. Chile occupies the razor-edge 
 of the Andes, a long narrow strip hemmed in be- 
 tween the ocean and the mountains. Her area of 
 three hundred thousand square miles is but one- 
 eleventh that of the United States. Her popu- 
 lation of two millions seven hundred thousand 
 is hardly one-twenty-fourth as great as our own. 
 The direct trade between the two countries is 
 small — only about five million dollars a year, in- 
 cluding exports and imports; and the opportuni- 
 ties of conflict between the nations seemed in 1890 
 as far away as the causes of that war which the 
 French peasants informed Hamerton was about 
 to break out " between Italy and Lapland." 
 
 That a conflict arose is due in part to changes in 
 the United States, in part to changes in Chile, in
 
 104 Bssags on Government. 
 
 part to the personal character and influence upon 
 each other of the statesmen of the two countries. 
 It is now ahnost fifty years since the United 
 States began to appear as the arbiter of affairs 
 in the Western world. The Monroe Doctrine of 
 1823 was, to be sure, only an announcement of 
 "hands off" to other nations. With the intrigues 
 for the annexation of Texas and then of Califor- 
 nia, from 1836 to 1846, begins the tendency to 
 consider the Latin-American countries of North 
 and South America as a field for American diplo- 
 macy. Attempts were made to annex Cuba, to 
 support expeditions for the conquest of parts of 
 Central America, and to secure a canal site across 
 the Isthmus. In 1865 the French were warned 
 out of Mexico, and they obeyed. During the last 
 quarter century, however, as the Latin-American 
 peoples have gained strength and steadiness, our 
 policy has been to attract them by peaceful means, 
 by offering them privileges of trade, by opening 
 up communication with them. President Arthur 
 sent a Commission to report on the best means of 
 entering into relations with them ; the Fifty-first 
 Congress, 1889-91, offered a reciprocity scheme 
 and provided for subsidizing steamer lines to 
 reach them. In 1890 a Pan-American Congress 
 was held in Washington to further the growing 
 relations of trade and friendship. To this general 
 policy there have been but two exceptions : in 
 t88i the United States came into diplomatic col-
 
 XLbc Cblleau Coiitiovcrsg. 105 
 
 lision with Chile; in 1891 Chile came into diplo- 
 matic collision with the United States. 
 
 These two Chiles were not precisely the same. 
 In 1 88 1 that country was flushed with the success 
 of a fierce war against Peru, in which the latter 
 nation was abjectly defeated and placed at the 
 mercy of Chile. Acting, doubtless, under a nat- 
 ural feeling of sympathy with a distressed peo- 
 ple. President Garfield consented that the United 
 States should step in as mediator. His long and 
 fatal illness gave to his Secretary of State, Mr. 
 Blaine, unusual power, and he instructed our Min- 
 ister to Peru, Mr. Hurlburt, to protest against 
 annexation of Peruvian territory by Chile. The 
 communication was complicated by the assertion 
 of the United States that a large claim based on 
 nitrate discoveries ought to be provided for by 
 Chile. The protest was ineffectual, and before 
 the United States could press the point further, 
 President Arthur had appointed a new Secretary 
 of State, Mr. Frelinghuysen, who reversed the 
 previous policy and permitted the Chileans to 
 dictate the terms of a treaty to Peru — and very 
 harsh and brutal terms they were. The Chileans 
 went on with their own internal affairs. As the 
 supremacy of their navy had led to their victory 
 over Peru, they built several new war vessels, 
 among them the fast protected cruiser Esmeralda, 
 at one time the best vessel of her class in the 
 world. They continued as a republic, but a re-
 
 io6 iBesn^e on (Bovernmcnt. 
 
 public rather in the mediaeval than the modern 
 sense. Although in form the government is like 
 that of the United States — leaving out the Fed- 
 eral features— the political affairs of the country 
 are in the hands of a comparatively small number 
 of men of wealth and station. The number of 
 votes for President is usually about two per cent, 
 of the population, against about eighteen per cent, 
 in the United States. In 1890 there came about a 
 division in the ruling class. The President, Bal- 
 maceda, was opposed by a combination which had 
 a majority in Congress, and was determined that 
 none of his adherents should be elected President 
 to succeed him. They cut off the appropriations; 
 he raised money in defiance of them. The result 
 was an appeal to arms by the Congressional party 
 in January, 1891, and a consequent civil war. 
 The navy sided with the Congressionalists, the 
 army with Balmaceda. For many months the 
 contest was doubtful ; but in the end the Con- 
 gressionalists were victorious, thanks to their abil- 
 ity, by means of their fleet, to place a little army 
 anywhere on the coast, and to the preference of 
 the majority of the Chileans for their cause. They 
 captured Santiago, the capital, August 30, 1891, 
 and thus established their claim to be recognized 
 as the Government of Chile. 
 
 The three chief actors in that part of the drama 
 which concerns the United States were the Presi- 
 dent of the Chilean Republic, the Secretary of
 
 Zbc Cbilcan Controversy. ^°7 
 
 State in the United States, and the Minister of 
 the United States, first to the Bahnacedan and 
 then to the restored Chilean government. Mr. 
 James G. Blaine was a statesman of great public 
 experience, and his somewhat ardent temperament 
 was in 1891 much moderated by experience. His 
 favorite policy, since he came into office in 1889, 
 had been to cultivate friendly relations with our 
 Latin-American neighbors. Of the three men he 
 showed throughout most calmness and good tem- 
 per, and, so far as appears in the published corre- 
 spondence, he manifested dignity without haste. 
 President Balmaceda was a man of a type famil- 
 iar in Latin-America ; unscrupulous, cruel, deter- 
 mined, able, a would-be dictator. Like most men 
 of his class he had obscure relations with holders 
 of government concessions, and he probably at- 
 tempted to bolster himself up by making them 
 liberal promises. In despair at his failure and in- 
 ability to escape, after the collapse of his govern- 
 ment, he committed suicide, September 30, 1891. 
 Patrick Egan was treasurer of the Irish Land 
 League in Ireland, and left the country hastily 
 after the Phoenix Park murders of 1882. Those 
 who know him speak well of his character and his 
 business experience ; and no connection with the 
 murders has ever been traced to him. The ap- 
 pointment of Mr. Egan as minister to Chile, in 
 1889, was, however, upon its face unsuitable and 
 impolitic. He was a very recently naturalized
 
 io8 Bssags on Government. 
 
 citizen of the United States. It has been the 
 practice of our government to send to the less im- 
 portant missions obscure men of little or no pub- 
 lic experience. To Chile, however, as the most 
 promising of all our Southern neighbors, it was 
 especially desirable to send some one who under- 
 stood the language and the people, and whose 
 station at home was such as to make his appoint- 
 ment a compliment to the nation to which he was 
 accredited. The selection of Egan was particu- 
 larly unfortunate in view of the commercial con- 
 nections of Chile with England, which was cer- 
 tain to bring him into unpleasant controversies. 
 Other civilized nations send ministers who may 
 favorably affect the people among whom they go ; 
 the United States alone seems to suppose that a 
 minister who is popular in the country to which 
 he is accredited, must gain that popularity by be- 
 traying the interests of his own country. Espe- 
 cially is this true of the Minister to England. Mr. 
 James Russell Lowell was accused of un-American- 
 ism, because he was in a position to serve his coun- 
 try well ; and Mr. E. J. Phelps is believed to have 
 failed of the appointment of Chief Justice because 
 he had been acceptable to Great Britain. Notwith- 
 standing these drawbacks, Mr. Egan was favorably 
 received by the Balmaceda government. When the 
 tide changed, and he was left to represent us to the 
 Congressional government, difificulty began, and he 
 became the central point of the whole controversy.
 
 Mr. Egan's first mistake was that, while show- 
 ing courtesies to both parties, he plainly sympa- 
 thized with Balmaceda and expected his triumph. 
 In this he was supported by the unofficial and offi- 
 cial influence of the United States. An English 
 correspondent, a partisan of Balmaceda, says that 
 " the Americans had . . . stood almost alone 
 in evincing sympathy with the cause of the Presi- 
 dent," and that he found " the officers [of the Balti- 
 more], from the captain downward, very distinctly 
 partisans of the government. They regarded the 
 alleged causes of the revolution as mere flimsy 
 pretexts." This impression was reflected to the 
 United States. It was, of course, right to con- 
 tinue relations with Balmaceda, who held the 
 capital and chief port and controlled the army. 
 When envoys of the Congressional party appeared 
 in Washington, the government very properly re- 
 fused to recognize them as representatives of an 
 independent nation, and declared that it " feels 
 bound to maintain its attitude of impartial for- 
 bearance." In his message of January 25, 1892, 
 President Harrison says, with justice : " The con- 
 duct of this government during the war in Chile 
 pursued those lines of international duty which 
 we had so strongly insisted upon on the part of 
 other nations when this country was in the throes 
 of a civil conflict. We continued the established 
 diplomatic relations with the government in power 
 until it was overthrown, and promptly and cor-
 
 no lEesass on ©overnmcnt. 
 
 dially recognized the new government when it 
 was established." 
 
 There was, nevertheless, an undercurrent of feel- 
 ing in official circles and in the press that the Con- 
 gressionalists were opposing the " man of destiny," 
 and that their defeat was to be desired. This 
 feeling rose to great excitement when it was an- 
 nounced that the Itata, a merchant steamer char- 
 tered by the Congressional ists, on May 5, 1891, 
 had slipped out of a California port with arms 
 on board. It was a doubtful point whether the 
 arms might not have been sent in the most open 
 manner, without furnishing cause of complaint 
 from the Chilean government. It was as certain 
 as points of international law can be, that the Itata 
 and her crew could be dealt with only if they again 
 entered an American port ; but a United States 
 cruiser was sent in chase, and the Congressional- 
 ists were glad to give up the arms rather than to 
 incur further ill-will from the United States. A 
 decision of the United States courts has since 
 been rendered to the effect that there was no 
 ground for detaining the Itata. 
 
 As the struggle went on, two other incidents 
 showed an unfriendly spirit toward the Congres- 
 sional party. The telegraph cable which formed 
 the northward connection from Valparaiso, and 
 which was of great importance to Balmaceda as a 
 means of connection with the United States and 
 Europe, landed at Iquique and then went on north-
 
 Cbc Cbdcan Contiovcres. i ' ' 
 
 ward. It was the property of a company char- 
 tered in the United States. Iquique was in the 
 hands of the Congrcssionalists, who thus con- 
 trolled the connection. On Mr. Egan's recom- 
 mendation, the United States gave naval protec- 
 tion to the cable company while they cut their 
 cable outside Iquique and spliced a direct off-shore 
 connection. The right appears to be with the 
 cable company, but the Congrcssionalists believed 
 that Egan used his influence with the home gov- 
 ernment to secure a favor for Balmaceda. 
 
 A much more serious incident came just at the 
 end of the war. The Congrcssionalists felt strong 
 enough to land an army and march on Santiago. 
 It was of the greatest importance to them to make 
 a secret and unexpected movement, landing either 
 north or south of Valparaiso, and thus eluding the 
 Balmacedist army. As they had control of the 
 sea, there was no possibility of the Balmacedists 
 watching them in steamers. On August 20th 
 it was rumored in Valparaiso that the Congrcs- 
 sionalists were landing in Quintero Bay, some 
 twenty miles north. According to John Trum- 
 bull, then in Valparaiso, the United States cruiser 
 San Francisco at about noon steamed out of the 
 harbor northward, returning about five o'clock. A 
 port boat, carrying the United States consul, put 
 out to the ship ; as soon as it returned it was an- 
 ■ nounced that eight thousand men had been landed. 
 Government troops were at once forwarded by rail
 
 112 Bssags on <3ovcnimcnt. 
 
 to meet the invasion, and next morning the gov- 
 ernment organ announced, as " from trustworthy- 
 news brought by the United States war-ship San 
 Francisco," that the force landed was such as to 
 make it clear that it was not a feint, and that the 
 landing party would not be re-embarked. After 
 Balmaceda's fall the following telegram was found 
 among his papers : 
 
 Valparaiso, Aug. 21, 1891, 9.36 a.m. 
 
 Mr. President — The American admiral has 
 left me only this moment, and he believes, as I do, 
 that a re-embarkation is not possible. 
 
 [Signed] ViEL. 
 
 The information did not prevent the Congres- 
 sionalists from taking Santiago, but the feeling of 
 soreness left in their minds may perhaps be made 
 clearer by an illustration. When the expedition 
 of 1862 was sent to the Gulf, it was of the highest 
 importance to the Confederate army to know 
 whether the attack was to be on Mobile or on 
 New Orleans. If a British ship had steamed out 
 from Mobile to investigate, and on her return, with 
 or without the officers' knowledge the news had 
 been circulated that the fleet had entered the Mis- 
 sissippi, what would our government have done? 
 
 To this damaging charge Admiral Brown has 
 replied what we must believe to be the truth, that 
 he gave strict orders that no one on his ship 
 should divulo-e information. His error was in
 
 G^be Cbilean contioversg. ii3 
 
 supposing that such information could be kept 
 under such circumstances; he put himself and his 
 ship's company in a position to favor one party 
 over the other. His connection with the Balma- 
 cedist official may 'also be explained without re- 
 flecting on his candor, but not without making 
 the United States, through its officers, responsible 
 for the breach of neutrality. The temper of the 
 navy was later shown by a telegram from Com- 
 mander Evans of the Yorktown, January i6, 1892, 
 addressed to the Secretary of the Navy and 
 through him made public. He says that he has 
 "requested the American Minister to state to the 
 Minister of Foreign AfTairs that I am responsible 
 to my own government, and not to that of Chile, 
 in such matters, and that I consider his criticism 
 offensive and will not accept it ; " and he spoke of 
 the conduct of the Chilean Minister of Foreign 
 i\ffairs as " unworthy of the representative of a 
 serious government." In this case he was promptly 
 disavowed by Secretary Blaine ; but he was not 
 reprimanded by his official superior, Secretary 
 Tracy, of the Navy Department. 
 
 For all these matters Mr. Egan can hardly be 
 held responsible ; but, throughout the period of the 
 war, the Congressionalists appear to have looked 
 upon him as a partisan of Balmaceda. In his de- 
 spatches Mr. Egan attempts to show that he was 
 trusted by Congressionalists, inasmuch as they 
 besought his good offices with Balmaceda ; it is 
 8
 
 iH JEssags on ©cvciniucnt. 
 
 equally possible that they applied to him because 
 they knew he had been in favor with the dictator. 
 It appears that he expressed the opinion in June, 
 1 891, to an American naval officer, that " the Gov- 
 ernment at Santiago cannot be disturbed." He 
 was the agent — perhaps simply the channel — -of 
 various impudent requests of Balmaceda, among 
 them one for the purchase of a man-of-war from 
 the United States Government, and for leave to 
 send four million dollars in silver to Europe in an 
 American cruiser. It was also very unfortunate 
 that Mr. Egan's son was made agent of a railroad 
 company which has a claim for five and a half mill- 
 ions against the Chilean Government. Of course 
 Mr. Egan supposed that he was dealing with a 
 Government which would soon crush out the 
 revolution ; but he must take the responsibility of 
 thus incurring the ill-will of the Congressional 
 party when it came into power. While, therefore, 
 there is no published evidence of a failure of Mr. 
 Egan to obey instructions, or of such inexcus- 
 able carelessness as that of Admiral Brown, it is 
 impossible to agree with President Harrison that 
 " the history of this period discloses no act on the 
 part of Mr. Egan unworthy of his position or that 
 could justly be the occasion of serious animadver- 
 sion or criticism." 
 
 In considering the quarrel with Chile, it must be 
 kept in mind that there were three very distinct 
 periods of diplomatic relations with the Chilean
 
 Government : first, to the time of Balmaccda's 
 overthrow, August 30, IcSqi ; then with the recon- 
 structed Government, while Senor Matta was 
 Minister of Foreign Affairs, to January i, 1892; 
 and third, with the same Government after a Cab- 
 inet change, under the Foreign Secretaryship of 
 Pereira. In the second period, with one impor- 
 tant exception, Mr. Egan seems to have conducted 
 himself with dignity and sense. Their representa- 
 tive, Senor Ricardo S. Trumbull, says that the 
 Congressionalists were too busy in restoring their 
 Government, and too glad to get into power, to 
 raise difficulties with the United States Minister. 
 What the Chilean Government had no intention of 
 doing, the populace of Valparaiso accomplished ; 
 and Chile was suddenly altered from a country 
 with a grievance against the United States, but 
 ready to forget, to a country against which the 
 United States had a grievance which it would not 
 forget. 
 
 October 16, 1891, about two months after the 
 overthrow of Balmaceda, a large party of sailors 
 on shore leave from the United States ship Balti- 
 more was assaulted by a mob, two were killed 
 and a large number — eighteen — wounded; one 
 Chilean was hurt. Of the crew of the Baltimore 
 more than half were foreigners ; but they all wore 
 the uniform, and were entitled to the protection 
 of their government. The evidence as to the ori- 
 gin and conduct of that riot has been reviewed
 
 ii6 J6disa^s on Government. 
 
 by many competent tribunals : by the Chilean 
 courts on the spot ; by Captain Schley, of the 
 United States Navy, on the spot ; by a later in- 
 vestigation in San Francisco ; by the newspaper 
 press all over the country ; and finally, in an elab- 
 orate messasre of the President of the United 
 States. A reading of the correspondence leaves 
 little reason to doubt that the riot was inspired by 
 a violent prejudice against American sailors on the 
 part of the lower stratum of the population. There 
 seems no evidence that it was the result of an 
 elaborate plan. There is no evidence that the po- 
 lice participated — in fact they put an end to the 
 affair with no gentle hand ; and many of the sea- 
 men were roughly hustled ofi to jail, as the Chileans 
 assert, to keep them out of danger. The attack 
 was indefensible and cowardly, and plainly re- 
 quired the Chilean government to disavow respon- 
 sibility, to punish the aggressors, to express re- 
 gret, and to promise an indemnity. Unfortunately 
 that government felt itself weak, and had not got 
 over the sting of the Itata and Ouintero Bay in- 
 cidents. It therefore took refuge in a course of 
 diplomacy very like that of Secretary Blaine in 
 March, 1891, when some Italian prisoners were 
 lynched in a prison in New Orleans. It made a 
 non-committal expression of regret, declined to 
 take responsibility as a government for the act of 
 a mob, and promised investigation. In this whole 
 matter, so far as appears in the published corre-
 
 Zbc Cbilean Contcoversg. 117 
 
 spondence, Mr. Egan behaved with coohiess and 
 circumspection. The government in Washington 
 gave him some discretion in phrasing his notes 
 to the Chilean government ; but he appears to 
 have confined himself throughout to almost a ver- 
 bal transcript of his instructions ; and there is not 
 an unbecoming expression in this part of his cor- 
 respondence. His attitude and language seems 
 much more moderate than that of some of the 
 newspaper attacks upon him. Chile was in a con- 
 fused and distressed condition ; and the State De- 
 partment at Washington showed a corresponding 
 forbearance. An expression of regret for the at- 
 tack was at once demanded, but the matter was 
 left in abeyance till the tedious process of the 
 Chilean courts had worn itself out. In a word, 
 the Chileans, like all weak powers engaged in dip- 
 lomatic controversies with stronger, desired to 
 gain time ; and they were not pressed for three 
 months. 
 
 Meanwhile another question had come up in 
 which Mr. Egan showed less discretion, and his 
 government supported him in unreasonable 
 claims. During the war several of the Congres- 
 sional ist party had taken refuge in the American 
 Legation, which had sheltered them from the Bal- 
 macedists. The privilege depends on a general 
 principle of international law, but a principle only 
 applied in less civilized parts of the world. The offi- 
 cial residence of the ministers of one country in
 
 ii8 Bssags on ©oveinincnt. 
 
 the country to which he is accredited is always con- 
 sidered a bit of his home territory ; neither he nor 
 his servants may there be molested, nor may the 
 officers of the law enter it. In countries like the 
 dependencies of Turkey, Japan, and China, Spain 
 and the Latin-American States, fugitives from jus- 
 tice are usually not to be sheltered in the embas- 
 sies. To this rule there is one exception. But 
 even this exception to the sanctity of the ambas- 
 sador's house is by tacit consent given up in the 
 case of political refugees. Governments rise and 
 fall rapidly, and the dictator of to-day may be the 
 outlaw of to-morrow. The privilege is not sup- 
 posed to be perpetual : the fugitive is protected 
 till he can escape, or till the government relents, 
 or till his party comes in again. In this manner 
 Mr. Egan received two partisans of the Congres- 
 sionalist party. Under this privilege, when the 
 crash came, he received Seiiora Balmaceda and 
 about sixty other persons. Other legations did 
 the same : Balmaceda himself was for a time 
 sheltered by the Argentine Minister. 
 
 Party spirit was now unusually exasperated in 
 Chile, and when it showed no signs of relenting, 
 and the fugitives still remained, the government 
 grew uneasy and tried various expedients for 
 bringing them out. Egan was importuned to 
 turn them out-of-doors, and very properly refused. 
 Some of them appear to have been indicted for 
 ordinary crimes; but he still maintained, as he
 
 trbe Cbilcan Contvoversg. 119 
 
 had aright, that they were not ordinary criminals. 
 An attempt was made to impeach some of them, 
 but this was equally unavailing. Meanwhile the 
 government tried blockading the house, on the 
 ground that persons were constantly in communi- 
 cation with the fugitives, and were conspiring from 
 this place of safety against the government. Mr. 
 Egan denied the conspiracy, and insisted that his 
 residence should not be besieged. His govern- 
 ment supported his position, and the blockade 
 was raised. The house was still watched to pre- 
 vent escapes, and vexatious incidents kept up the 
 ill-feeling between the government and the em- 
 bassy. Foreign Minister Matta wrote despatches 
 in a vein so discourteous that no man of spirit 
 could bear it, and Mr. Egan replied sharply. 
 
 So far our Minister must stand justified ; but 
 he now advanced another doctrine, which was in- 
 defensible and could not fail to be offensive : he 
 claimed as a part of the right of asylum the safe 
 departure of the refugees out of the country ; the 
 aroma of United States territory which protected 
 the refugees in the legation was also to waft them 
 through the seventy miles to the sea-coast and so 
 upon a British vessel. In a despatch of October 
 22, 1891, Mr. Egan said to the Chilean Govern- 
 ment: "There cannot, therefore, be cause for sur- 
 prise on the part of your Excellency if the govern- 
 ment of the United States should interpret as an 
 act of but slight courtesy and consideration, that
 
 I20 Bseave on Government. 
 
 the Chilian Government, having the power in its 
 » hands to make this friendly manifestation, should 
 not wish to do so, in accordance with the respect 
 due to the invariable practice and international 
 policy of Chili." This laying down of a new 
 principle in international law, for it was not the 
 invariable practice and international policy of 
 Chile, would be inexplicable but for one short sen- 
 tence in Mr. Egan's letters to Secretary Blaine : 
 he says that he acted strictly in the spirit of the 
 department in its instructions in the Barrundia 
 case. 
 
 The title of a recent work of great learning and 
 value is " Digest of the International Law of the 
 United States." If there be such a thing as inter- 
 national law peculiar to one country, it is to be 
 found in the Barrundia case. On August 27, 
 1890, Barrundia, a criminal fugitive from Guate- 
 mala, was a passenger on an American merchant 
 steamer which touched at a Guatemalan port. 
 The deck of a merchant vessel is in all civilized 
 countries simply a part of the territory in which it 
 lies. The local authorities, therefore^ came off to 
 capture Barrundia, he resisted, and was shot and 
 killed. An American vessel of war was lying near 
 by, and its deck was, under international law, a 
 bit of American floating territory ; but the Com- 
 mander, Reiter, on the advice of the American 
 Minister, declined to interfere. Had the affair 
 happened in Marseilles and had he interfered, our
 
 ^be Cbilean Controvei-sg. 121 
 
 Government would have apologized or there would 
 have been war. Had an English cruiser interfered 
 to prevent the capture of an American on board an 
 English merchant vessel in New York Harbor, the 
 commander of any fort would have been justified 
 in turning his guns on the man-of-war. As it 
 was the territory of a weak Latin-American State 
 which was in question, the officer of the American 
 ship received the severest naval penalty short of 
 cashiering. The principle of the Barrundia case 
 is simply, that American ships may violate the 
 territorial rights of weak American States ; and it 
 was to this principle that Mr. Egan refers. Sec- 
 retary Blaine does not appear to have supported 
 Mr. Egan's assertion of the right of safe-conduct, 
 but approved his stand in protecting the refugees. 
 Eventually, rather than provoke a quarrel on the 
 subject, the Chilean Government permitted some 
 of the refugees to leave the country, and on Jan- 
 uary 25, 1892, it was announced that they had 
 reached Callao in the U. S. cruiser, Yorktown. 
 
 The compliance of the Chilean Government was 
 not because it accepted the Barrundia principle, 
 but apparently because it had become involved in 
 two other controversies, in each of which it had 
 put itself in the wrong. On December 13, 1891, 
 Seiior Matta, the Chilean Foreign Minister, irri- 
 tated by a passage in President Harrison's message 
 and Secretary Tracy's accompanying report to 
 Congress, sent out a circular to the Chilean am-
 
 122 fissags on (Boveinmeiit, 
 
 bassadors ; it was published in the Chilean papers 
 and was intended to be a defiance. He declared, 
 " that the statements on which both report and 
 message are based are erroneous and deliberately 
 incorrect. . . . There is, moreover, no exact- 
 ness or sincerity in what is said at Washington." 
 The delay in the investigation of the Baltimore 
 affair was, he said, " owing to undue pretensions 
 and refusals of Mr. Egan himself." His own atti- 
 tude " has never been one of aggressiveness, nor 
 will it ever be one of humiliation, whatever may 
 be or has been said at Washington by those who 
 are interested in justifying their conduct, or who 
 are blinded by erroneous views. . . . We feel 
 confident of the right, the dignity, and the final 
 success of Chile, notwithstanding the intrigues 
 which proceed from so low [a source] and the 
 threats which came from so high [a source]." 
 
 It was, perhaps, fortunate for Mr. Egan to be 
 thus coupled with the President in a general de- 
 nunciation of the government of the United States. 
 The note was to the last degree insulting, and 
 would have justified a withdrawal of our Minister 
 and a severance of diplomatic relations. The at- 
 tempt was made later to set up the claim that it 
 was a " domestic communication " which could 
 not be the subject of diplomatic complaint. Mr. 
 Blaine declined to accept the view that a nation 
 is to take no notice of an insult not directly com- 
 municated, and refused to receive as a sufificient
 
 tTbe Cbilean Contioversi2. 123 
 
 apology a statement that the Chilean Government 
 would strik-e out the offensive words. 
 
 The second difficulty was caused by the per- 
 sistent delay in the official investigation of the 
 Baltimore affair. " In view of the fact that the 
 Government of Chile was still provisional," saj's 
 President Harrison, " and with a disposition to be 
 forbearing and hopeful of a friendly termination," 
 he waited for the report of the Chilean courts ; a 
 preliminary statement of the result was not re- 
 ceived in Washington till January 8, 1892 ; indict- 
 ments were found against several Chileans, but 
 the court appeared to gloss over the real cause of 
 the trouble. 
 
 In' the elaborate review of the difficulty made 
 in his message of January 25, 1892, President 
 Harrison says : " The communications of the Chil- 
 ian Government . . . have not at any time 
 taken the form of a manly and satisfactory expres- 
 sion of regret, much less of apology." This state- 
 ment is accurate as to the attitude of Chile up 
 to the end of Matta's administration. To Mr. 
 Egan's protest and demand for an apology, phrased 
 in the terms of his instructions on October 26th, 
 Senor Matta replied on October 28th, with a de- 
 fiant and abusive note. The assault on the Balti- 
 more was, he said, " deplorable ; " but he appeared 
 to leave it to others to deplore it. He said that 
 Egan's note, " emits appreciation, formulates de- 
 mands, and advances threats that, without being
 
 124 JEssags on (Bovernment. 
 
 cast back with acrimony, are not acceptable, nor 
 could they be accepted by this department, neither 
 in the present case, nor in any other of the like 
 character ; " and he roundly asserted the incontesta- 
 ble right of Chile to judge of the Baltimore affair 
 in her own courts and in her own way. Senor 
 Montt, the new Chilean Minister at Washington, 
 did on December nth speak of " the lamentable 
 events at Valparaiso, which my Government had 
 deeply deplored ; " and he promised " that if Chil- 
 ean citizens were guilty they should be punished." 
 Yet on December 13th was issued Senor Matta's 
 ofificial circular, which has already been discussed. 
 When, in January, the Chilean foreign depart- 
 ment passed into the hands of Senor Pereira, 
 a change is instantly visible ; on January 4th 
 Senor Montt at Washington of^cially mentioned 
 the occurrence which " Chile has lamented and 
 does so sincerely lament." Four days later he 
 announced that he had received special instruc- 
 tions to state "that the Government of Chile has 
 felt very sincere regret for the unfortunate events 
 which occurred in Valparaiso on the i6th of Oc- 
 tober ; " and he added that his Government " cord- 
 ially deplores the aforesaid disturbance." Minis- 
 ter Montt had already suggested arbitration as a 
 means of settling the dispute. Surely this might 
 have been accepted as the apology due for the un- 
 official attack on the sailors of the Baltimore, leav- 
 ing for settlement only the question of the punish-
 
 Zhc Cbilean Controversy. 125 
 
 ment of the guilty, and an indemnity for the killed 
 and injured. About the same time the watch over 
 the refugees was relaxed. There remained, so far 
 as the Chileans understood, only one matter to be 
 adjusted, and they proceeded to make amends for 
 that. On January 16th the Chilean authorities 
 notified Mr. Egan that they would withdraw any 
 offensive passages in the Matta circular, and had 
 instructed their Minister in Washington to ex- 
 press regret. The apology, thus expressed both in 
 Washington and Santiago, was stiff and ungrace- 
 ful, perhaps inadequate ; but it was made in good 
 faith. On January 20th, evidently feeling that all 
 was now serene, the Chileans ventured, acting on 
 a hint of Mr. Blaine's, to ask for Egan's with- 
 drawal as a persona non grata. 
 
 What, therefore, must have been the dismay of 
 the Chileans on January 23d, to receive an official 
 notice, which the newspapers dubbed an " ulti- 
 matum," containing the statement that the United 
 States Government was not satisfied with the 
 result of the judicial investigation at Valparaiso 
 and still asked " for a suitable apology;" that for 
 the Matta note there must be still another "suit- 
 able apology," without which the United States 
 would terminate diplomatic relations ; and that 
 the request for Mr. Egan's withdrawal could not 
 at that time be considered. 
 
 It was a bitter draught for any government ; 
 but threats of war were resounding through the
 
 126 jEssage on ©overnnicnt. 
 
 United States ; American naval vessels were hur- 
 riedly being made ready; coal and supplies were 
 going into the Pacific. There was power behind 
 the note, and Chile prepared to bend to the storm. 
 The " ultimatum " appears to have reached the 
 Chileans on Saturday, January 23d. On Mon- 
 day, January 25th, they sent an answer which 
 could not possibly be read as anything but a com- 
 plete and abject apology on all the three points. 
 
 Mr. Roosevelt tells us that during his legislative 
 experience in Albany, the anti-Tammany men sent 
 in a list of the offices which they claimed as their 
 "ultimatum." The Tammany men, who were 
 good diplomats but poor Latinists, responded with 
 what they called an " ipse dixit." In this case, 
 while the " ultimatum " proceeded from the State 
 Department, the " ipse dixit " was a message is- 
 sued by the President of the United States, on 
 the day when the Chilean answer was being for- 
 warded. It rehearsed the whole controversy at 
 great length, submitted copious correspondence, 
 and ended with the significant phrase : " In my 
 opinion I ought not to delay longer to bring these 
 matters to the attention of Congress for such 
 action as may be deemed appropriate." 
 
 It is not for mortals to peer into the secrets of 
 Olympus, or to consider the influences of Secre- 
 tary Neptune of the Navy Department, or of Sec- 
 retary Minerva, the stately Goddess of diplomacy. 
 Nor are the materials at hand to verify the popu-
 
 Z\K CDilcan Controversy. 127 
 
 lar belief that President Harrison took the Chilean 
 affair out of the hands of Secretary Blaine, and 
 overruled his counsel. It is an unprofitable con- 
 troversy as to whether the authorities in Washing- 
 ton knew that an answer was on its way : if they had 
 read the correspondence they knew that an answer 
 must come, and that the Chilean Ministry must 
 send a peaceful answer. It is therefore difficult to 
 understand the purpose of the President's message. 
 On January 26th the Administration became at 
 last aware that its effect had been merely to deep- 
 en the humiliation of Chile. For the Baltimore 
 incident Senor Pereira declared that " he does not 
 for a moment hesitate to condemn in vigorous 
 terms the act committed on the i6th of October, 
 or to offer such reparation as is just." As for the 
 Matta note, he " deplores that . . . there were 
 employed through an error of judgment the expres- 
 sions which are offensive in the judgment of your 
 Government," and "absolutely withdraws the said 
 expressions," As to Egan, he agreed to " take no 
 positive step without the accord of the Govern- 
 ment of the United States." It is related of a 
 wily Russian diplomatist, that having sent in an 
 ultimatum he afterward made a new proposition 
 as an " ultimatissimum." The apology seems the 
 ultimatissimum of humility. Thus the matter 
 ended. The United States carried every point 
 and conceded but one — the disavowal of the fiery 
 note of Commander Evans,
 
 128 j£s£;ai26 on (Bovcinmcnt. 
 
 This summary review of events must not be un- 
 derstood to ignore the substantial grievances of 
 the United States. Our sailors were assaulted, 
 apparently because they were our sailors ; inves- 
 tigation was delayed a quarter of a year ; Minis- 
 ter Egan, Secretary Blaine, and President Harrison 
 were all treated by Senor Matta with unbearable 
 insolence. These were all things demanding an 
 apology ; failing an apology, after due and formal 
 request, the proper remedy in such a contest with 
 a weak nation is to withdraw our ambassador. It 
 is not a proper remedy to threaten war, or to pre- 
 pare to spend perhaps two thousand lives of our 
 own subjects in order to hasten reparation for the 
 loss of two. 
 
 It is, of course, unfair to hold the Administration 
 responsible for the foolish and vaporing war talk of 
 the newspapers ; but one of the interesting features 
 of the whole display is the semi-publicity of deli- 
 cate negotiations. Both the Chilean and Ameri- 
 can Governments have disregarded the funda- 
 mental maxim of diplomacy — not to show one's 
 whole hand to the adversary. Important de- 
 spatches, like the Matta note, have been given 
 to the press. Semi-official interviews have been 
 granted to reporters and published. England is 
 held to be at a disadvantage as against other Eu- 
 ropean powers, because Parliament may at any time 
 compel ministers to state the progress of negotia- 
 tions. Our President is wisely armed withdiscre-
 
 Zbc Cbilean Controversy. 129 
 
 tion to withhold information even from Congress ; 
 and the partial statements made public through 
 irregular channels have fed rather than allayed 
 the excitement. 
 
 Another weak spot in our system brought out 
 by this controversy is the lack of harmony be- 
 tween executive departments. In the Bering Sea 
 question a few years ago, Secretary of State 
 Bayard and Secretary of the Treasury Manning, 
 gave contradictory orders. The President inter- 
 fered and established a policy. In the Chilean 
 affair the Secretary of State and Secretary of the 
 Navy seem to have been at cross - purposes, and 
 the President did not straighten the matter out. 
 Plainly, if we are to have any consistent foreign 
 policy it should be intrusted to the Secretary of 
 State to administer, and the army and navy should 
 be subordinated. Naval commanders are highly 
 educated men, but they are soldiers; the com- 
 mand of a powerful ship and the possession of a 
 grievance are together too much for their self- 
 control ; they must be placed under some indis- 
 putable authority, or we shall get into trouble all 
 over the world. 
 
 The controversy further illustrates the inconven- 
 iences of modern civilization. The Pasha of INIany 
 Tales objected to the art of writing because, he 
 said, when a man paid his tax he had to give him 
 a receipt ; and then when he tried to collect the 
 tax a second time, he was confronted by that pa-
 
 130 Bssags on ©ovenimcnt. 
 
 per. Many times must Minister Egan have 
 wished that the Congressional ists had cut the 
 cable at Iquique. Modern diplomacy puts the 
 Foreign Minister at one end of the telephone, and 
 the Secretary of State at the other. The swift- 
 ness of communication also permits quarrels to 
 roll up with alarming swiftness. Under the old 
 system of mail connection it would have been 
 morally impossible for a President to send in a 
 hostile message on the day when the mail steamer 
 was expected with an apology. 
 
 The effect of the somewhat theatrical message of 
 President Harrison was to inflict an unnecessary 
 humiliation on Chile. Spanish-Americans have 
 good memories. Mexico still cherishes resent- 
 ment for the war begun against her forty-five j^ears 
 ago ; and forty - five years hence the Chileans 
 are likely to remember the Balmaceda affair 
 as Americans remembered the impressment of 
 American seamen by Great Britain. We have 
 the apology, but with it we have the ill-will. 
 
 Nor is the ill-will likely to be confined to Chile. 
 Peru doubtless rejoices at the discomfiture of her 
 old enemy, but other powers are likely to see in it 
 a reason for holding aloof from the United States. 
 We are in danger of entering into the bullying pol- 
 icy which has made Great Britain unpopular the 
 world over. We must protect our ships, our men, 
 our flag, and the honor of our country on all seas 
 and in all ports. But to leave out of account the
 
 Zbc Cbilcan Contcoversg. 131 
 
 pride and sensitiveness of the Spanish race, in mak- 
 ing reclamations and exacting apologies, is simply 
 to build up a hostile wall round about us. We 
 are not so powerful that we can afford to make 
 unnecessary enemies. 
 
 More important than all the rest is the effect of 
 an ill-considered foreign policy on our own politi- 
 cal prosperity. No one who has examined the 
 diplomacy of the last ten years can fail to be 
 struck with the inclination of the Government to 
 set up new principles of international law which are 
 not only not acknowledged by other nations, but 
 which are likely to be wrested to our own hurt. 
 We have asserted an interest in Samoa which 
 gives us a kind of a protectorate over a South Sea 
 Island ; for many years we strove against a similar 
 British claim in Belize. At one time we claimed 
 Bering Sea as our territory, forgetful of the other 
 seas in other parts of the world which, on the 
 same principle, may be closed to us. We have as- 
 serted that an American ship is a part of American 
 territory ; and deny that the same principle may 
 be applied to American ships in foreign ports. 
 We have claimed safe-conduct for refugees in our 
 Latin - American legations ; it is impossible to 
 admit a corresponding right in their legations 
 in Washington. The fault of our diplomacy in 
 the Chilean relations, as elsewhere, is a strict rat- 
 ing of our own rights and privileges and an under- 
 estimate of those of other powers. Sixty-five mill-
 
 132 B66as0 on (Bovenimcnt. 
 
 ions of people with a powerful navy may without 
 personal danger ignore commonly received princi- 
 ples of international law. But in the end we have 
 gained petty advantages, made unnecessary ene- 
 mies, and put weapons into the hands of power- 
 ful nations to use against us in the future. The 
 United States is established as the arbiter of the 
 Western world ; our dignity does not require so 
 much self-assertion ; as Bryce says, " We do not 
 need a steam-hammer to crack nuts."
 
 VI. 
 THE COLONIAL TOWN MEETING. 
 
 " At a Meeting of the Freeholders and other In- 
 habitants of the Town of Boston Duly Qualified 
 being Regulerly Assembled in A Publick Town 
 Meeting at the Town House in Boston on Tues- 
 day September the 14"' 1731 : 
 
 " After Prayer by the Rev* m"" John Webb, 
 
 " Habijah Savage Esq' was Chose to be Mod- 
 erator for this Meeting 
 
 " Proposed to Consider About Reparing m' 
 Nathaniell Williams His Kitchen &c — 
 
 " In Answer to the Earnest Desire of the Hon- 
 ourable House of Representatives — 
 
 " Voted an Intire Satisfaction in the Town in 
 the late Conduct of their Representatives in En- 
 deavoring to preserue their Valuable Priviledges, 
 And Pray their further Endeavors therein — 
 
 " Voted. That the Afair of Repairing of the 
 Wharff leading to the North Battrey. be left 
 with the Selectmen to do therein as they Judge 
 best—" 
 
 The above record of an apparently brief and un- 
 eventful assembly of the voters of Boston is an 
 epitome of the colonial town meeting. The legal 
 forms under which it was summoned and debate 
 
 (133)
 
 134 jiE00as6 on Government. 
 
 went on were usual throughout New England. 
 The devout opening and orderly procedure were 
 characteristic of the times and the people. The 
 three items of business illustrate the triple func- 
 tions of the town meeting in the seventeenth 
 and eighteenth centuries : it acted as a legislature 
 of the town, as an organ for the expression of 
 opinions on matters of state, and as an electoral 
 and directing assembly. 
 
 Since the early settlers of New England were of 
 about the same degree of education and polit- 
 ical experience in all the New England colonies, 
 and since the physical and ecclesiastical condi- 
 tions were much the same, towns and town meet- 
 ings bore a marked similitude to each other in 
 Plymouth, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, 
 Rhode Island, New Haven, and Connecticut. In 
 one colony the colonial legislature perhaps inter- 
 fered more, in another less; there were many local 
 variations ; but there was a distinct type of town 
 meeting. 
 
 At first the town meeting was held as often as 
 the people had occasion ; but the frequent meet- 
 ings were found so burdensome that selectmen 
 were soon established for the routine business, 
 and the town assembled only three or four times a 
 year; "Town Quarter Day" was the term in 
 Providence. In troubled times the meetings were 
 held more frequently ; in the twelve months of 
 1774-75 the people of Boston assembled on thirty-
 
 Colonial <Io\vn Meeting. i35 
 
 one different days, besides many adjournments 
 from morning to afternoon. Yet, whatever the 
 exigency, the people did not come together of 
 their own motion ; an elaborate machinery was 
 provided, partly by custom, partly by law. The 
 selectmen must summon a meeting on the request 
 of a certain number of voters ; if they neglected 
 the duty, the next justice of the peace must call 
 it. Two attempts, in 1688 and 1774, by law, to 
 prevent the summoning of town meetings in Mas- 
 sachusetts, were alike unsuccessful. A further 
 preliminary was the circulation of notice by the 
 town constable by personal service from house to 
 house. 
 
 Another indispensable preliminary was the 
 " warrant," or list of subjects, to come up at the 
 ensuing meeting. It was headed " In His Maj- 
 esty's Name ; " and by town rules, later enacted 
 into colonial law, no question could be brought 
 before the meeting which was not stated in the 
 list. The voters, however, had not the present 
 privilege of staying away from a meeting if they 
 were not interested in the subjects to come up ; 
 town votes often inflicted a fine or other penalty 
 on absentees. 
 
 Who could participate in the meetings, when 
 duly summoned ? Here comes in one of those 
 complications which make colonial institutions so 
 difficult to understand. There were at least four 
 different kinds of town meeting, and the voters in
 
 136 J£33ag6 on (Bovcrunicnt. 
 
 one did not necessarily have the suffrage in an- 
 other. In the first place many of the towns were 
 founded by a sort of local stock company called 
 the " Proprietary." The members or proprietors 
 originally held all the land in the town, and in- 
 deed made up the body of settlers. They assigned 
 tracts of land to themselves, then admitted other 
 persons to the Proprietary, and then sold or 
 granted land to non- members, who had no share 
 in the residue of the undivided lands. The pro- 
 prietors were summoned by warrant to meetings 
 which in early days were practically town meet- 
 ings ; for nearly a century the " Hundred Proprie- 
 tors" of Providence and the rest of the community 
 were at loggerheads over these special privileges. 
 
 A second kind of town meeting was held by 
 those inhabitants who were freemen of the colony. 
 They had a status in colonial affairs resembling 
 that of the proprietors in town matters ; they 
 alone in the beginning could take part in the affairs 
 of the great company, the colony ; as that body de- 
 veloped into a commonwealth, they were the only 
 persons possessed of full colonial citizenship, and 
 thus were the only voters for colonial officers. 
 Since all elections must be held in town meeting, 
 special meetings were summoned, at which none 
 but the freemen appeared. 
 
 The third and more common sort of meeting 
 was for the transaction of ordinary business, and 
 was from the beginning open to the freemen and
 
 Colonial ^own ^eetin^. i37 
 
 to others admitted by the towns to local citizen- 
 ship. The distinction between " freemen " and 
 " inhabitants " gradually disappeared in local mat- 
 ters, so that any grown man, born or naturalized 
 in the colony, might acquire the suffrage, provided 
 he had the property qualification. The possession 
 of real estate or of a very considerable personal es- 
 tate was everywhere a requisite. In at least one 
 case, Boston in 1740, the town declared the pay- 
 ment of a personal tax essential. 
 
 The fourth sort of town meeting, in which jurors 
 and county officers were chosen, does not differ 
 much from the ordinary meeting, and that business 
 was usually performed at the ordinary meeting. 
 
 The result of the various limitations on the suf- 
 frage was that the persons qualified to participate 
 in a town meeting were fewer in proportion than 
 at present. At a very crowded town meeting in 
 Boston in 1734 there were but 916 voters, out of 
 a population of about 15,000; in a ward of the 
 present city of Boston having the same population 
 the vote would now be about 2,300. So long as 
 the towns possessed the right to admit local 
 voters, they often exercised it by preventing peo- 
 ple from settling among them and thus acquiring 
 political rights. When William Lincoln in 167 1 
 tried to rent a farm in Lancaster he received the 
 following notice : 
 
 " In his maijesties name you are Required to 
 withdraw yourselfe and family, and to depart the
 
 138 Bssags on ©ovenimcut. 
 
 towne forthwith, in Regard the towns men vterly 
 disclames you an inhabitant." 
 
 Out of the limited number of persons entitled 
 to participate in town affairs, those who were able 
 and willing to attend constituted a town meeting. 
 The place of assemblage was at first any conveni- 
 ent spot ; many of the Providence meetings took 
 place " under the buttonwood tree" or in one of 
 the too numerous taverns. In the earlier and 
 poorer towns the church was the usual place of 
 meeting ; but in course of time the well-to-do 
 towns built town houses. The Boston town 
 meeting was frequently obliged, for want of space, 
 to adjourn from Faneuil Hall to a church. 
 
 Once assembled the people were called to order 
 by the town clerk. To this important officer, usu- 
 ally chosen in each successive year for a long pe- 
 riod, are due the written records from which we 
 obtain most of our knowledge not only of the town 
 meeting, but also of many important colonial in- 
 stitutions. 
 
 The next formality was usually a prayer by the 
 minister. The warrant was then produced — if the 
 constable had not forgotten it — and duly read. 
 The character and importance of the business thus 
 indicated differed according to the size of the town 
 and the exigency of the times. In the larger 
 commercial towns like New Haven, Providence, 
 Salem, or Boston, it included rather a wider range 
 of legislation than now comes before the govern-
 
 Colonial Zown /llbcctiiia. ^39 
 
 ment of a great city. In the small farming towns 
 it mifjht be no more than a few items like this : 
 
 '&' 
 
 " These may notifie the propriety of Lancaster 
 that Jonath moor Requests that the Contery Rode 
 or Hiway — may Run by his door in to Hog 
 swampt Rode." 
 
 The next proceeding was often the reading of 
 important colonial laws ; especially in Massachu- 
 setts the "Laws against Immorality " were read 
 for many years before each meeting by order of 
 the General Court. Then came the choice of 
 moderator, who was elected by those present, usu- 
 ally for a single meeting. This was an office which 
 honored any citizen who held it ; among the Bos- 
 ton moderators w^ere Sevvall, Gushing, James Otis, 
 Sam Adams, and John Hancock. The moderator 
 was chosen by a "handy vote" — i.e., a show of 
 hands — or sometimes by ballot. His duty it was 
 to " consider what is necessarie to be done. And 
 to see that order be atended." In various towns 
 fines were imposed on persons who attempted 
 to speak without the recognition of the mod- 
 erator. 
 
 The title of the chairman suggests that there 
 was often something to moderate. Town meet- 
 ings were meant for debate, and often tended to 
 turbulence. One of the good citizens of Provi- 
 dence is known to have called another " Jackanapes 
 boy in our Towne meeting." Roger Williams, in
 
 140 jessags on Government. 
 
 one of those scathing letters in which that excel- 
 lent man delighted, says to an adversary : 
 
 ** In all our Towne meetings js jt not notoriously 
 knowne y^ you are so far from being swift to hear & 
 slow to speake (according to God's command vnto 
 vs) ; y* what euer is propounded or by whomsoeuer, 
 you are ordinarily y*" first y^ lets fly vpon jt, & be- 
 tweene yo"" selfe & some other begins y"" Dispute & 
 Contentyon: y' other neighbo" though able, an- 
 cient and Experienced, shall scarce find an Inter- 
 im, to utter thejr thoughts in y'' Case & Business." 
 
 Whether stormy or peaceful, the meetings in the 
 country among farmers could not be long protract- 
 ed ; but in Boston the town meeting of 1700, ac- 
 cording to Sewall, " Had Candles broke up at 8 
 [P.M.]. Began at 10 [a.m.]." Meetings were not 
 always so well kept up. Sewall says of the meet- 
 ing of 1687 : 
 
 " Town was generally dissatisfied, partly said 
 were not all warn'd and partly at the work it sett, 
 so most of them that were there went away and 
 voted not." 
 
 In its procedure the town meeting did much to 
 develop the parliamentary forms now in use in the 
 United States. Petitions vv^ere numerous, and in- 
 deed furnished a convenient means of bringing a 
 question before the assembly for deliberation. 
 Committees " to consider the matter and to ripen 
 things concerning it," as the Providence town
 
 Colonial Cown /Iftcctiiifi. Hi 
 
 meeting put it, were freely employed. There is, 
 however, little trace of appeal to technicalities or 
 of endeavor to gain advantage out of involved 
 usages. Debate seems to have been allowed so 
 long as anyone had anything to offer. Little rec- 
 ord of the speeches remains ; rarely a representa- 
 tive or a petitioner or a candidate for office came 
 in with a set speech, but in general the remarks 
 seem to have been pointed and sensible. Sam 
 Adams was powerful, not as an orator, but as a 
 member of committees. 
 
 When debate was ended the question was taken. 
 Usually the vote was viva voce ; occasionally it 
 was by show of hands ; in grave matters " papers," 
 i.e., ballots, were employed. The latter was the 
 method in election of representatives and colonial 
 officers. As the voters grew more numerous it 
 was found necessary in Boston to hedge the ballot 
 about with check lists and other precautions. A 
 distant suggestion of the Australian ballot system 
 is discernible in the motion in 1740 that every 
 man be required to write his name on his paper. 
 About this time there occurred several attempts at 
 ballot-box stuf^ng. While the Boston town meet- 
 ing was considering the question of granting a strip 
 of the Burying Ground for an enlargement of 
 Kings Chapel, in 174S, it is recorded that : 
 
 " The Inhabitants proceeded to bring in their 
 Votes, & when the Selectmen were Receiving 'em 
 at the Door of the Hall they observed one of the
 
 142 JEssags on ©ovcrnmcnt. 
 
 Inhabitants Viz^ : John Pigeon to put in about a 
 dozen with the word Yea wrote on all of 'em." 
 
 He was fined five pounds and the vote was 
 taken a second time. 
 
 Every proposition mentioned in the warrant and 
 voted affirmatively by the town meeting was bind- 
 ing on the town, and even in cases of very small 
 majorities the minority usually acquiesced. Occa- 
 sionally, however, a minority protested. Thus, in 
 1 705- 1 706, that part of the people of Lancaster 
 opposed to the site selected for the new meeting 
 house appealed to the General Court, and thereby 
 succeeded in delaying the settlement of the matter 
 for a year and a half. 
 
 So far in the investigation we have reasonably 
 safe grounds for an estimate of the town meeting. 
 There were, however, in those days, as in our own, 
 certain unrecorded and obscure influences which 
 tended to control the popular assemblies, or at 
 least seriously to affect their action. In the first 
 place, the proprietors, where they existed, had un- 
 due weight. By 1750, however, this power had 
 nearly everywhere passed away. Under a system 
 which brought the town constantly into contract 
 relations with its own citizens private advantage 
 must often have been a lever in directing the ac- 
 tion of a town meeting. Upright old Sewall, in 
 171 1, declined an election as moderator "because 
 of the Treaty that was to be about the Burying
 
 Colonial Zowm /iRecting. i43 
 
 Place." The " treaty " was a pending proposition 
 for the town to buy a piece of his land. In the 
 Providence Town Council, in 1728, the laying out 
 of a highway was abandoned. 
 
 " One or two members of y*^ councill being sus- 
 pected and, charged by petition, of being interested 
 in y® land adjoining where y*^ highway was laid." 
 
 An occasional hint indicates that the prelimi- 
 nary caucus was not unknown, and that " slates " 
 were sometimes arranged. More corrupt influ- 
 ences were little known ; the standard of conduct 
 was high, and every man and his opinion were tol- 
 erably well known to every other voter. 
 
 One of the most obscure points in the history of 
 the colonies is the degree of influence possessed 
 by local magnates in local affairs. In Massachu- 
 setts the colonial offlce-holders — judges, financial 
 officers, and others — exercised a power and patron- 
 age which greatly exasperated the popular party 
 and was a very important cause of the Revolution. 
 Many rich men found the only path to civic 
 honors through the uncertain favor of the town 
 meeting. John Hancock was not above cultivat- 
 ing his neighbors with demagogic arts ; an inter- 
 esting instance is his invitation to his debtors to 
 bring in the depreciated currency in payment, be- 
 cause he " preferred " it. 
 
 Whatever the influence of ofifice or wealth, there 
 was one individual in each community who was
 
 144 JEssags on Government. 
 
 powerful in town meeting as elsewhere — the min- 
 ister. He was often the only educated man pres- 
 ent and he was armed with his ecclesiastical dig- 
 nity ; his persuasions or his logic must often have 
 changed the votes of town meeting. In 1776, the 
 Rev. Thomas Allen, of Pittsfield, was so energetic 
 in local politics and political sermons that he in- 
 fluenced a county convention to refuse to acknowl- 
 edge the authority of the courts of the Common- 
 wealth. It is not possible here to discuss that 
 subtler influence of leaders springing out of the 
 less distinguished part of the community, of whom 
 Sam Adams is the type. These men used the 
 town meeting not so much for their own advance- 
 ment as for instilling great political principles into 
 the minds of the people ; they were the first 
 American politicians. 
 
 What were the functions of the town meeting ? 
 The great importance of the institution lies in its 
 exercise of the three different kinds of authority 
 which appear in the extract at the head of this 
 article. To the people themselves the most im- 
 portant function of the town meeting was the 
 regulation of local affairs, and into them it went 
 with great thoroughness and minuteness. 
 
 In 1664 the town of Ipswich solemnly legislated 
 against a well-known canine propensity : 
 
 " It is ordered that all doggs for the space of 
 three weeks after the publishinge hereof, shall 
 have one legg tied up. ... If a man refuse
 
 Colonial Zown ififteetiiuj. i45 
 
 to tye up his dogg's legg and he bee found scraping 
 up fish in the corne field, the owner shall pay I2s 
 besides whatever damage the dogg doth." 
 
 From this record of thorough legislation by the 
 town meeting, it may be interesting to turn to the 
 remarkable political functions which characterized 
 it and of which there is a typical example in the 
 quotation at the beginning of the article. Earliest 
 of recorded powers of this nature is the election of 
 town officers — first, a constable ; soon after, select- 
 men; later, a variety of other of^cers. Soon the 
 choice of town officers was relegated to one annual 
 meeting, usually the most important of the year. 
 Sometimes the meeting summarily dismissed offi- 
 cers whom it had previously chosen. County and 
 colonial officers were also voted for in town meet- 
 ing, the votes being sealed up and sent to colonial 
 officials to be counted. For many years jurors 
 were also elected. 
 
 One of the marks which most distinguished the 
 colonial town meeting was its right to choose rep- 
 resentatives to the colonial Assembly. In all the 
 New England colonies this was one of the func- 
 tions which did most to make the town meeting 
 a school of national politics. For many years 
 towns in Massachusetts could choose non-resi- 
 dents; but the practice died out. Not only did 
 the towns choose representatives ; they instructed 
 them, sometimes in a specific vote, oftener through 
 a committee. No punishment could be inflicted
 
 146 JEssags on Government. 
 
 on a representative who ignored his instructions, 
 but he was not likely to be re-elected. 
 
 These instructions were supplemented by many 
 direct expressions of the town's opinions on pub- 
 lic questions. The action of the town meeting of 
 Boston from 1763 to 1775 is a familiar part of the 
 history of our country : it hectored the governor ; 
 it appointed agents in London to procure the veto 
 of obnoxious colonial acts ; it incited other towns 
 to insubordination ; it put forth declarations of 
 the rights and wrongs of the colonists. Nor was 
 such action confined to that period or to the great 
 towns ; similar resolutions had been passed nearly 
 a century before. As early as 1687 the town of 
 Ipswich voted that it " was against the rights of 
 Englishmen to have rates laid upon them without 
 their consent in an Assembly or Parliament." At 
 a time when newspapers were infrequent and un- 
 influential, the town meeting was a nucleus around 
 which crystallized the slow formation of public 
 opinion. From town to town spread an organized 
 opposition, first against the royal governors, then 
 against the King. The instructions to the repre- 
 sentatives bade them stand fast. Through the 
 towns it was easy, when the Revolution broke up 
 the old colonial governments, to lay the founda- 
 tions of a new political system.
 
 vri. 
 THE COLONIAL SHIRE. 
 
 On the Eastern Shore of Virginia, some months 
 ago, the writer was told that a certain man wished 
 to be elected " Commonwealth for Accomac 
 County." The desired office, it appeared, was 
 that of County Prosecuting Attorney for the Com- 
 monwealth of Virginia. The connection in the 
 popular mind between the local office and the 
 state's authority dates back to the earliest colonial 
 history; for Accomac was one of the seven shires 
 created in 1634 by the first American act estab- 
 lishing counties. With the county we are all 
 familiar; the powers of county government, for 
 evil as well as for good, were illustrated by the 
 Tammany Ring frauds, under Tweed's direction, 
 in the County of New York. We have county 
 courts, county commissioners, county sheriffs, 
 county attorneys, county taxes, county regula- 
 tions. To be sure there are now at least four 
 types of county government in operation : the 
 word means a very different thing to men from 
 Massachusetts, Alabama, Michigan, and Wiscon- 
 
 (147)
 
 148 fissags on Government. 
 
 sin. Nevertheless all the varied forms may be 
 traced back to one prototype, the English shire ; 
 and the varieties were developed in colonial times. 
 The colonial shire marks therefore a transition, and 
 in the process the shire increased in importance ; 
 so that our present counties are more powerful 
 than that from which they sprang. 
 
 By the Act of 1634 the seven shires of Virginia 
 were to be " governed as the shires in England." 
 What was the shire which the emigrants had 
 known, and what was its government ? The Eng- 
 lish shire was the principal political and adminis- 
 trative subdivision of the kingdom. It was a ju- 
 dicial district, each shire having a court of its own 
 for minor offences ; it was a military district, the 
 able-bodied men in each forming a division of the 
 militia; it was an executive district through which 
 the laws of the kingdom were kept in force, and 
 taxes were collected; it was a legislative district, 
 with the power to tax itself for local purposes, and 
 to make local laws ; finally, it was a political divi- 
 sion, within which certain officers were elected. 
 
 The shire was, of course, not the only self-gov- 
 erning subdivision : there were boroughs and cities 
 and parishes, all laying their own local taxes and 
 having their own local authorities ; but the shire 
 differed from them, at the time of the settle- 
 ment of the colonies, by having lost its earlier 
 popular government. The only direct share of 
 the people in county government was in the as-
 
 ^be Colonial Sbfre. i49 
 
 sembly of the freeholders — perhaps a tenth of the 
 adult men — to choose two unimportant county 
 ofificers, and also to choose county members of 
 Parliament, the so-called " Knights of the Shire." 
 The government was in the hands of of^cers com- 
 missioned by the crown. The sherifT collected 
 taxes and executed directions of the courts; the 
 lord lieutenant commanded the milita; but the 
 principal officials were the justices of the peace. 
 Their joint meetings, called " quarter sessions," 
 were not only judicial courts but a sort of local 
 legislature. They levied county taxes and ad- 
 ministered the shire. They were usually not law- 
 yers, but the principal gentlemen resident in the 
 county. They probably represented the voters as 
 well as elective of^cers could have done, and there 
 seems to have been little dissatisfaction with the 
 system in England, 
 
 This, then, was the institution which Virginia 
 in 1634, and the other colonies soon after, attempt- 
 ed to transplant. It was quickly seen that the 
 conditions were very different : instead of a dense 
 population with few land-owners and a recognized 
 aristocracy from which to choose justices of the 
 peace, the colonies had large territories, thinly 
 populated, many owners of land, and, except in a 
 few colonies, no permanent aristocracy. The ma- 
 terials for the English county government could 
 not be found in the colonies. Moreover there 
 had been other units of local government estab-
 
 150 jBsea^Q on Government. 
 
 lished before the counties were framed : the towns 
 in New England and the middle colonies, hun- 
 dreds in Maryland, parishes in Virginia and South 
 Carolinia, were already exercising some of the 
 powers of the English shires. The county came 
 in as a sort of interloper, in some colonies always 
 inferior to the towns, in some dividing power with 
 them, in some putting them into an inferior posi- 
 tion, in some driving them out altogether. The 
 English shires were all substantially on the same 
 model, and could be altered with great dif^culty ; 
 the colonies freely tried experiments and copied 
 from each other. Thus Virginia in 1662 tried to 
 make the shire and parish independent ; in 1679 
 to have a sort of dual shire-and-township govern- 
 ment; and later to make the county supreme. 
 
 The result of experiment and custom was that 
 at the time of the Revohition there were four dis- 
 tinct types of county government in the colonies, 
 and each of the present States of the Union has 
 adopted one of these types. In New England the 
 county was subordinated to the town. County 
 of^cers were elected, to be sure, but their powers 
 were few. South Carolina and Maryland ad- 
 hered in general to this type. It will be noticed 
 that these were all colonies of comparatively small 
 area, with the population gathered more or less 
 closely on the sea-coast or along navigable rivers ; 
 and they were all commercial. Local government 
 in divisions smaller than a county was therefore
 
 Zbc Colonial Sbire. 15^ 
 
 easy. The New England system still prevails in 
 that part of the country and in some Western 
 states. 
 
 The second type of the colonial shire was de- 
 veloped in New York ; here there was a county 
 government and in addition a board of supervi- 
 sors, each member of which was chosen by a town- 
 ship. The system still prevails in New York and 
 has been adopted in Michigan, Illinois, Wisconsin, 
 and Nebraska, 
 
 A third form of development is seen in Penn- 
 sylvania. Here the towns had at first been su- 
 perior, but they were afterward subordinated to 
 the county. The most remarkable thing about 
 the Pennsylvania system is that the county ofificers, 
 although exercising large powers, were nearly all 
 elective. The Pennsylvania model was followed 
 by most of the new Northern states, and has been 
 the most influential in the West. 
 
 The fourth type was highly developed in Vir- 
 ginia. It is historically the most interesting to 
 us, because it was least like our present county 
 governments, and most like the English prece- 
 dent. Hence, the county was the recognized 
 agent for most of the purposes of local govern- 
 ment ; the parishes existed, but were compara- 
 tively unimportant. To this type New Jersey 
 and North Carolina inclined ; it still prevails in 
 most of the Southern states and in some of the 
 Western. For the introduction of the system
 
 152 Beeags on ©ovevmnent, 
 
 there is a geographical reason : the plantations 
 were widely scattered, there were no considerable 
 centres of population ; a large area, unsuited to 
 town government, must be taken together in order 
 to collect a sufficient population to form a local 
 government. The average population of a Vir- 
 ginia county at the time of the Revolution was 
 probably less than that of a Massachusetts town. 
 Still more significant was the fact that county 
 government in Virginia was out of the hands of 
 the people and exercised by officers appointed by 
 the governor. As in England, so in Virginia, 
 county administration was a reversal of the princi- 
 ple of popular government. 
 
 Amid so many variations it is of course quite 
 impossible to describe in detail the form of colo- 
 nial county governments. Much more than the 
 towns and parishes the shires were subject to colo- 
 nial legislation. They were created, united, and 
 subdivided, often without their consent. In the 
 New England colonies there were few, in Rhode 
 Island but three; in Virginia, in 1781, there were 
 seventy-four. Nor was there any standard of size. 
 In 1778 Virginia erected the county of Illinois out 
 of the vast region between the Mississippi and 
 Ohio and the Great Lakes, a space now occupied 
 by more than five states, and having a population 
 of fifteen millions. In like manner county offices 
 were created and then destroyed. Besides the 
 general laws prescribing their duties, county of-
 
 trbe Colonial Sbtrc. i53 
 
 ficials were subject to special directions from the 
 colonial authorities. Thus, in 17 13, Governor 
 Spotsvvood of Virginia gave orders that on the 
 next Sunday a proclamation should be " opened, 
 read, and published at the principal church of each 
 parish, immediately before divine service by the 
 sheriffs of the respective counties, their officers or 
 substitutes on horseback." Although there vvas 
 nowhere any colonial central office for dealing 
 with county officials, their appointment by the 
 governor in many colonies gave the general ad- 
 ministration sufficient control. Occasionally spe- 
 cial provision was made for their discipline. It 
 was enacted in Virginia that 
 
 "Whatsoever justice of the peace shall become 
 soe notoriously scandalous upon court dayes at the 
 court-house, to be soe farre overtaken in drinke 
 that by reasen thereof he shalbe adjudged by the 
 judges holding court to be incapable of that high 
 office and place of trust, proper to inherett in a 
 justice of the peace, shall for his first such offence 
 be fined five hundred pounds of tobacco and cask." 
 
 Under the Virginia type of shire government 
 — to a less degree under the Pennsylvania and 
 New York types — the county system tended to 
 strengthen the central colonial government, and 
 particularly the governor's authority. 
 
 Had the body of county voters had more power, 
 they might have counteracted the centralizing ten- 
 dency; but nowhere did they elect all the county
 
 154 Bssags on Government. 
 
 officers; and only in Pennsylvania did the elective 
 officers have considerable powers. The appointive 
 officers were usually worthy men, but the interest 
 of the people in their own taxation and governor 
 was diminished by their inability to change their 
 officers. 
 
 There was, to be sure, one institution which 
 might have become a school of political discussion, 
 like the town meeting: in Virginia, Maryland, and 
 New York the people of the county assembled to 
 elect members of the lower house of the colonial 
 assembly. But the voters were few, through the 
 general limitation of the suffrage to freeholders ; 
 and they had no power of legislation ; the element 
 of patient and general discussion was wanting. 
 Nor was the choice precisely free ; it was expected 
 that men of recognized social standing should be 
 selected. A Virginia gentleman, about 1700, wrote 
 to one of his friends that a member elect would 
 " not be allowed to take a seat in the house where 
 none but gentlemen of character ought to be ad- 
 mitted." 
 
 One device which might possibly have solved 
 the difficulties of county government was never 
 tried ; perhaps an elective county council might 
 have taken the place of the appointed commis- 
 sioners. In New York there was a representative 
 board of supervisors side by side with the appoint- 
 ive ; but the supervisors had no powers except in 
 regard to taxes. The only suggestion of a general
 
 tibe Colonial Sbfrc. 1S5 
 
 county council which has come under the writer's 
 notice was made by the town of Beliingham, 
 Mass., in 1773, as follows : 
 
 " We think it may be proper for the Town to 
 vote that we desire Boston to promote in each 
 Town within this Gov't Subscriptions of Peti- 
 tions to the Gen Court to make a Law to estab- 
 lish Assemblies in each County to grant County 
 Taxes and do such other Business as is proper 
 for Counties to act, with Restrictions suitable 
 thereto." 
 
 The colonial shire officers were much the same 
 in function as those in England ; but they had dif- 
 ferent names, and there was a tendency to increase 
 the number. Still there was never such a multi- 
 plication of offices as in the town. The sheriff was 
 the executive ofificer of the courts, but a separate 
 officer or officers usually received the taxes. His 
 service met with obstacles still familiar in the 
 West. Here are some of the returns made to 
 writs which had been given to Virginia sheriffs to 
 serve : 
 
 " Not executed by reason there is no road to 
 
 the place where he lives." 
 
 " Not executed by reason of an axe." 
 
 " Not executed because the defendant's horse 
 
 was faster than mine." 
 
 Throughout all the colonies the most important 
 county officials were the members of the board
 
 156 jessa^s on ©overnment 
 
 variously called " commissioners," " court of ses- 
 sions," and — more commonly — " county court." 
 This board was founded on the English " quarter- 
 sessions," and was the prototype of our present 
 county commissioners. The word " court " does 
 not indicate that its only functions were judicial. 
 To our forefathers a " court " was an assembly, 
 with the power of deciding disputes between its 
 members, and also authorized to pass votes bind- 
 ing on all those entitled to attend. The great 
 commercial companies held " courts," which were 
 only stockholders' meetings. The first legislative 
 assembly in America, gathered in Virginia in 1619, 
 after passing the earliest set of colonial laws, pro- 
 ceeded to try an offender and to sentence him 
 
 " To stand fower dayes with his eares nayled to 
 the Pillory . . . and every of those fower 
 dayes should be publiquely whipped." 
 
 The county courts possessed a similar combination 
 of judicial, administrative, and legislative author- 
 ity. 
 
 The character of the members of the county 
 boards is therefore a most important element in 
 American government. Their sessions took the 
 place in county affairs of the town meeting in 
 town affairs. Although justices, they were usually 
 not lawyers, but the leading men of their county ; 
 in the agricultural colonies they were likely to be 
 the large planters or large farmers ; in the com-
 
 (Tbe Colonial Sbtrc. i57 
 
 mercial colonies, professional men and merchants. 
 They might and often did at the same time hold 
 town or parish or colonial office ; indeed the colo- 
 nial councillors — members of the upper house — 
 were often fx officio entitled to sit on the board of 
 the county in which they resided. In Virginia, 
 where the system was most developed, the mem- 
 bers had the unwritten right to nominate persons 
 to fill vacancies. Hence arose many struggles 
 with governors who appointed their own favorites. 
 Thus 
 
 " Wm. Johnston Gent, being asked whether he 
 would accept & swear to the Commission of the 
 Peace ; now Produced, answered, That he would 
 not accept and Swear to sd : Commission because 
 Anthony Stroder, William Hunter, and William 
 Lyne are put in the Commission without a Rec- 
 ommendation from the Court." 
 
 As in England, service on the county board was 
 without compensation; but it was an honor much 
 desired. One objection to Mr. William Lyne was 
 that he had begged for a commission from the 
 governor. It was usual to serve for many years, 
 and there was bitter complaint in 1698 because 
 the governor of Virginia 
 
 " Renews that commission commonly every 
 year, for that brings new fees, and likewise gives 
 him an opportunity to admit into it new favorites, 
 and exclude others that have not been so zealous 
 in his service."
 
 158 )£6sag6 on (Sovcrnmcnt. 
 
 In Virginia the county court was most devel- 
 oped and had most power, because in that colony- 
 most stress was laid on shire government. When- 
 ever the powers of the shire were diminished it 
 was usually the county court which was shorn, and 
 not the sheriff or other county officers. Every- 
 where the judicial power of the English "quarter- 
 sessions " was retained, and in many colonies ex- 
 tended. In Virginia the county court tried for 
 piracy and treason. Usually the causes were less 
 serious, and often they descended to petty suits 
 over a few shillings or to such criminal cases as the 
 following : 
 
 " Geo. Dill fined [by a Massachusetts court] 
 40' for drunkenes, & to stand att the meeting hous 
 doar next Lecture Day, w'" a Clefte Stick vpon 
 his Tong, and a Pap[er] vpon his hatt subscribed 
 for gross p'mcditated lying." 
 
 The following was the judgment of a Virginia 
 court : 
 
 " That if Mister Holmes does not quit worrying 
 Mister Jones and making him curse and swear so, 
 he shall be sent to jail." 
 
 The military functions of the shire were also 
 common to all the colonies ; it is probable that 
 the first counties were organized in order to pro- 
 vide a defence against the Indians. The militia- 
 men of a shire usually constituted a separate regi-
 
 ^bc Colonial Sblrc. I59 
 
 ment or other military body ; and where there 
 was a shire " lieutenant " or " commander " under 
 whom stood the militia, his office was considered 
 the most honorable connected with the county. 
 
 The next function of the English shire, the ex- 
 ecutive and administrative duties, were in some 
 colonies entirely withdrawn from the county gov- 
 ernment. In most, however, including Massachu- 
 setts, the county court or commissions collected 
 taxes, supervised enforcement of colonial laws, 
 and even saw to it that the towns or parishes per- 
 formed their duties. Nowhere, except possibly in 
 the New York and Pennsylvania types of county 
 government, can the county be considered as a 
 confederation or an aggregate of towns or parishes. 
 The same people were collected both under the 
 town or parish and the county governments ; but 
 the counties could not create towns or parishes and 
 could not legislate for them. 
 
 Other legislative powers were abundant in 
 counties of the Virginia type, and were not want- 
 ing in most of the other colonies. The power of 
 the shires to tax themselves for shire purposes was 
 almost universal ; and in one colony or in another, 
 the counties provided for roads, bridges, the poor, 
 prisons, inspection of commodities, the appoint- 
 ment of minor officials, and many other matters. 
 
 At the beginning of the Revolution the counties 
 suddenly assumed a political importance which 
 they had never enjoyed before and have never had
 
 i6o jEssags on ©ovcinmcnt. 
 
 since. When the old colonial governments crum- 
 bled in 1774-76, the counties formed temporary 
 centres of resistance and even of government. In 
 the Continental Congress of 1774 sat delegates 
 chosen by the counties of New Jersey, Maryland, 
 and Virginia. Many county conventions met and 
 passed patriotic resolutions. The most celebrated 
 instance is the action of the committee of Meck- 
 lenburg County in North Carolina, which on May 
 20, 1775, passed several resolutions to the effect 
 that there was no longer any royal authority in 
 North Carolina, and that the people of Mecklen- 
 burg County had no government except the 
 county ofificers whom they elected. A few years 
 later the people of the County of Kentucky held 
 conventions and threatened to withdraw from Vir- 
 ginia. A very singular and little known episode 
 in the history of the shire is the attitude of Berk- 
 shire County, Massachusetts. From 1775 to 1780 
 it refused to submit to the authority of the Com- 
 monwealth. During the whole five years no court 
 was permitted to sit; and threats of secession 
 were openly made. 
 
 County government is less important now than 
 it was in colonial times ; on the one side state and 
 national legislation reach further into details; on 
 the other side, cities have arisen and have dwarfed 
 the counties. Nevertheless the general acceptance 
 of a system of elective county officers has thrown 
 new powers into the hands of the people ; the
 
 tTbe Colonial Sbtre. i6i 
 
 precedents set by the colonies have been followed, 
 and the four types of county government have fur- 
 ther developed. The great merit of the colonial 
 shires was that they kept alive the spirit of healthy 
 local growth and vitality, without which it would 
 have been impossible either to form or to preserve 
 the Union. 
 
 II
 
 VIII. 
 THE RISE OF AMERICAN CITIES. 
 
 Of late years there have been many able dis- 
 cussions of the problems of city government in 
 the United States.* Most of these discussions, 
 however, have turned upon the forms of municipal 
 
 * Of these may be instanced: Von Hoist's Constitutional Law, 
 g I02 ; Bryce's American Commonwealth, chaps, l.-lii. ; Wood- 
 row Wilson's The State, g§ 1030-1037 ; Publications of the 
 American Economic Association, vol. i., Nos. 2, 3, vol. ii., No. 
 6 ; Johns Hopkins University Studies, vol. iv., Nos. 4, 10, vol. v., 
 Nos. I, 2, 3, 4, vol. vii., Nos. i, 3, 4 ; Publications of the Ameri- 
 can Statistical Association, New Series, Nos. 2, 3, 6 ; W. M. 
 Ivins, in the Political Science Quarterly, vol. ii., pp. 291-312 ; 
 Seth Low and James Parton, in the Forum, vol. ii., pp. 260, 539 ; 
 A. R. Spofford's'The City of Washington and the Growth of Cities 
 in the United States ; Simon Sterne, in Lalor's Cyclopaedia of 
 Political Science, vol. i., pp. 460-468 ; E. L. Godkin, in the En- 
 cyclopaedia Britannica, vol. xvii., pp. 462-464 ; Ford's American 
 Citizen's Manual, Part L, pp. 66-83 ' ^- J- Parker's Study of 
 Municipal Government in Massachusetts ; Atkinson and Penrose, 
 Philadelphia ; R. J. Ely, Taxation in American States and Cities ; 
 Wilder, Universal Problem ; John Fiske, Civil Government, ch. 
 v. ; Census Bulletins, Eleventh Census, Nos. 14, 52, 64, 82, 176, 
 206. 
 
 (162)
 
 Bmeiican Cities. 163 
 
 governments and the dangers discernible in their 
 workings ; the existence and growth of cities have 
 been assumed as a matter of course. Neverthe- 
 less, the fact that we have so many cities to gov- 
 ern is one of the most astonishing in history. A 
 little more than a hundred years ago, the whole 
 population of the United States was under four 
 millions, of whom hardly a hundred thousand 
 lived in cities. There were in 1890 four hundred 
 and forty-three cities, with a total population of 
 more than eighteen millions. Since 1790, the 
 population of the United States has increased near- 
 ly sixteen times ; while the cities have increased 
 in number more than seventy times, and the urban 
 population nearly a hundred and forty times. 
 
 In the causes and development of this phenome- 
 nal growth may perhaps be found an explanation 
 of some of the complicated problems of city gov- 
 ernment. This essay will therefore be devoted to 
 three inquiries : i. What causes have determined 
 the sites and distribution of American cities ? 2. 
 What has been the growth of their population ? 
 3. What is noticeable about the status and social 
 condition of people in cities ? 
 
 At the outset, what is meant by the term 
 " city ? " The English usage, by which no place 
 is strictly a city which has not a cathedral and a 
 bishop, is no longer applicable even in England. 
 To use the term for every place having a so-called 
 *' city " charter would include many an unimpor-
 
 1 64 JBeen^e on Government. 
 
 tant Charles City or Falls City. In New Eng- 
 land there are often several centres of population 
 still united under the old town government, but 
 the aggregate is not a city in name. For conven- 
 ience, the definition of the Tenth Census will be 
 adopted : a city is any aggregate of eight thousand 
 or more persons living under one local government. 
 Before noticing the rate of growth of particular 
 cities, it is desirable to consider what causes have 
 planted and nourished our chief centres of popu- 
 lation. The reasons which can be given for the 
 site of most ancient and mediaeval cities are here 
 singularly inapplicable. An Athenian or Salzbur- 
 ger suddenly placed in our midst would declare 
 that this strange people had deliberately avoided 
 the most eligible sites, and had exposed them- 
 selves to ruin. The intelligent Athenian or can- 
 did Salzburger must quickly see, however, that 
 the conditions of life in the New World have been 
 different. Our cities have grown up in a time of 
 peace. Steam-power, artificial roads, and the use 
 of large craft have changed the character of manu- 
 factures and commerce. The political importance 
 of cities has diminished, and their commercial im- 
 portance has increased. Little as he might admire 
 the external appearance of some of our cities, even 
 Alexander or Wallenstein might share the admira- 
 tion which Bliicher expressed when taken through 
 the streets of London after Waterloo : " Mein 
 Gott, was fiir eine Stadt zum plundern ! "
 
 Bmciican Cities. 165 
 
 Most ancient or mediaeval cities, as Jerusalem, 
 Athens, and Rome, were grouped about a hill ; or 
 on an island, as were Paris, Rhodes, and Venice ; 
 or on a promontory, as Constantinople ; or, if in 
 flat land, they were not immediately on the coast, 
 as London, Pisa, Cairo. The reason was a simple 
 one: they felt themselves in danger of attack, and 
 sought the most defensible situations. It is not 
 too much to say that not one city in the United 
 States owes its growth to its protected situation, 
 Quebec stands like a Hon on its rock ; but there is 
 not, and never has been, one first-class fortress or 
 citadel within our present limits. So far is this 
 the case that, of the twelve largest cities in the 
 United States, seven are exposed to attack by sea 
 and insufficiently protected." Military authorities 
 assure us that a bombardment is by no means the 
 serious affair that people suppose. Nevertheless, 
 the prosperity of the coast cities may at any time 
 receive a terrible blow, because other than mili- 
 tary reasons have determined their site. 
 
 A second great reason for the location of cities 
 applies as efficaciously now as at any former time : 
 it is the convenience of commerce. The sage ob- 
 servation that Providence has caused a large river 
 to flow past every great city is as nearly true now 
 as it was when Memphis, Babylon, and Cologne 
 
 * New York, Brooklyn, Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore, San 
 Francisco, and New Orleans are exposed ; even Chicago, Buffalo, 
 and Cleveland are on a frontier.
 
 i66 lEssa^s on Government. 
 
 were built. As nature has determined the position 
 of some cities by furnishing a bold and therefore a 
 defensible site, so she has selected that of others 
 by inequalities in the beds of streams. The site of 
 many American cities is on a river at the head or 
 foot of navigation, usually just above or below a 
 fall. This is the case with Louisville and Buffalo. 
 St. Paul marks the commercial head of the upper 
 reach of the Mississippi, as Troy marks that of the 
 Hudson, and Duluth and Chicago the head-waters 
 of the St. Lawrence. More often the large city 
 grows up at the mouth of a river or near its 
 mouth. This is the case with many of our lake 
 cities, as Cleveland and Milwaukee ; so St. Louis 
 stands on the first high land below the confluence 
 of the Missouri and Mississippi ; Baltimore owed 
 its early growth to the Susquehanna trade ; New 
 Orleans and New York are famous examples of 
 great river towns. 
 
 The history of the world has shown that it is 
 much less important for a city to have the length 
 of a great river behind it than to have a good 
 harbor before it. Newburyport at the mouth of 
 the Merrimac, Saybrook at the mouth of the Con- 
 necticut, have long since fallen out of the race 
 with Boston on the Charles, Philadelphia on the 
 Schuylkill, and Providence on the Moshassuck. 
 It is the harbor that counts most, and not the 
 river navigation. The further up into the land a 
 harbor penetrates, the more valuable it is. In
 
 Bmciican Cities. 167 
 
 America, as elsewhere in the world, the point 
 where the tidal water of an estuary meets the fresh 
 water of a river is marked by nature for the site of 
 a settlement. Hence the foundation of the great- 
 ness of London, Hamburg, Bordeaux ; hence the 
 importance of Norfolk, Charleston, Baltimore, and 
 Philadelphia. New York and San Francisco alone 
 of our large cities lie at the mouth of an estuary. 
 
 The depth of harbors was for many years of less 
 consequence than their accessibility and protection. 
 From the little havens of the Cinque Ports issued 
 the wasp's nest of vessels which protected the 
 coast of England. From Duxbury, Falmouth, and 
 Perth Amboy sailed the East Indiamen of a cen- 
 tury ago. The increasing size and draft of sea- 
 going steamers have caused a concentration of 
 trade into the few large and deep harbors, and 
 this is doubtless one cause of the disproportion- 
 ate growth of the large cities in the United 
 States. As the coast from Nova Scotia to New- 
 Jersey contains the best harbors in the North At- 
 lantic Ocean, the cities of that region have a nat- 
 ural advantage over their Southern rivals. On 
 the other hand, the ports from New York to 
 Norfolk, and the lake ports, have an advantage in 
 their nearness to supplies of coal ; and the advan- 
 tage increases as steamers take the place of sailing 
 vessels. 
 
 Sixty years ago New England seemed likely to 
 lose her commercial importance, because the
 
 i68 JEesags on ©ovciiiment. 
 
 mountains cut her off from direct communication 
 with the West : it is not enough for a place to 
 have a harbor and good communication with for- 
 eign countries in order to grow into a city ; it 
 must also have direct and easy connection with a 
 rich country in the interior. Verona, though an 
 interior city, has for ages lain at the mouth of the 
 easiest Alpine pass. Trieste is the port for South- 
 ern Germany. For the same reason, Baltimore, 
 Charleston, and Philadelphia, Chicago and St. 
 Paul, have had a better opportunity for growth 
 than Boston. 
 
 New York, in spite of her magnificent harbor, 
 suffered from a mistake of the geologic forces. A 
 glance at the map shows that the great lakes were 
 meant to drain into the Hudson ; and their waters 
 still protest, as they thunder down Niagara, 
 against an unnatural diversion to an estuary frozen 
 one-half the year. To remedy the mistake of 
 nature, the State of New York constructed the 
 Erie Canal, finished in its first form in 1825 ; and 
 the astonishing growth of the city is the fruit of 
 that undertaking. Philadelphia, Washington, and 
 Richmond vainly tried to imitate this triumph ; 
 but Baltimore rivalled it by the early construction 
 of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad. 
 
 The effect of our railroad system has been to 
 make available the best harbors, wherever found, 
 and to make large areas of rich country tributary 
 to the cities upon them. Boston could scarcely
 
 Bmeiican Cities. 169 
 
 live from New England products alone. New 
 York depends for daily bread on Ohio, Michigan, 
 and Minnesota. Of the seven largest cities in the 
 country, five are the larger Atlantic ports — Bos- 
 ton, New York, Brooklyn, Philadelphia, Balti- 
 more; and they are among the most distant from 
 the centre of food supply. The second city of the 
 seven, Chicago, illustrates another great change in 
 modern, as compared with ancient, commer- 
 cial conditions : Chicago is a great trade centre. 
 Its site was determined by the fact that a little 
 creek made the most convenient harbor at the 
 head of Lake Michigan ; railroads diverged from 
 it, railroads were built to it. It has become a 
 distributing point for the States to the west of 
 it. St. Paul and Minneapolis in the Northwest, 
 St. Louis and Kansas City in the Southwest, owe 
 their growth to the same cause. Their site was de- 
 termined by their position on rivers, but except 
 the trade down the Mississippi from St. Louis to 
 New Orleans, the western river trade is now of 
 small importance. The present growth of the 
 interior cities is due to the network of connecting 
 railroads. 
 
 In the series of commercial reasons just dis- 
 cussed for the growth of cities, there is evident 
 a tendency to concentrate trade. The few places 
 which combine good harbors or a central situation 
 with lake or river navigation, with established 
 trade routes, with artificial means of transit, and
 
 I/O Bssags on ©ovctnment. 
 
 with cheap coal, must more and more gather to 
 themselves foreign and internal commerce. It is 
 for these reasons that New York is and must al- 
 ways be the chief city in the Western hemi- 
 sphere. 
 
 The coast cities, however, owe only a part of 
 their prosperity to their situation as points of ex- 
 change for foreign products. We sometimes lose 
 sight of the fact that all our greater commercial 
 cities are also great manufacturing cities. The 
 first nine cities in population are the first nine in 
 value of manufactured products. New York in 
 1880 led in manufactures of clothing. Phila- 
 delphia was second only to Lynn in shoes, and 
 surpassed Lawrence in mixed textile goods. It 
 is not merely that these cities manufacture more 
 because they have more people : they have more 
 people because they manufacture to advantage. 
 
 When manufacturing began on a large scale in 
 the United States, certain inland cities grew up, 
 because they had an advantageous water-power. 
 Rochester and Minneapolis, and especially the 
 towns on the Connecticut and Merrimac, owe 
 their prosperity to the shrewdness of men who 
 caused water to fall in an orderly manner through 
 their overshot and turbine wheels, rather than 
 tumultuously over rocks. It is a very singular 
 fact that the advantage of water-power sites for 
 manufactures is at present very slight. A high of- 
 ficial in the Amoskeag Corporation — said to be the
 
 Bmerican Cities. 171 
 
 largest concern engaged in textile manufacturing 
 in the world — has said that, if Manchester, N. 
 H., the seat of the works, were not already built, 
 it would not be built for the sake of utilizing that 
 important water-power. There are many mag- 
 nificent mill-sites in the North Carolina mountains 
 still unused and likely to be unused for many 
 years. Where coal is cheap, steam-power is, on 
 the whole, more convenient : hence the growth of 
 Fall River, New Bedford, and Providence ; hence, 
 also, the possibility of manufacturing in the large 
 coast and inland cities in competition with the 
 water-powers. We all recognize that Pittsburg 
 owes its prosperity to the soft coal near by ; we 
 less often reflect that Baltimore, Philadelphia, and 
 New York enjoy a similar advantage over the New 
 England cities. 
 
 The success of manufactures and the consequent 
 distribution of population into manufacturing 
 cities depends, perhaps, less on the natural advan- 
 tages of a place than on the skill and industry of 
 the people. The great ease of transporting per- 
 sons over large distances — an absolutely new thing 
 in the history of the world — makes it possible to 
 mass skilled laborers in cities. The coast cities en- 
 joy the advantage of receiving such laborers direct 
 from abroad, and thus in many cases they have the 
 first choice. There is a corresponding disadvan- 
 tage. Almost all the immigrants into the United 
 States land at one of four ports — Boston, New
 
 ^7^ Bssags on (Boveinment. 
 
 York, Philadelphia, Baltimore ; and these cities 
 fail to sift into the country beyond, some elements 
 which cause them much perplexity. 
 
 For the prosperity of the country it is far less 
 important that population should grow than that 
 it should grow intelligent. In this respect the 
 coast cities have some advantage : the people of 
 the great seaports have always the inestimable 
 stimulus of direct intercourse with the world 
 abroad ~ and at home; hence the population of 
 New York is more likely to absorb new ideas than 
 the population of Lowell or Cincinnati. In man- 
 ufacturing cities, on the other hand, social and 
 political problems are more difficult. Here it is 
 possible to employ the labor of women and chil- 
 dren ; the taxes are more likely to fall upon the 
 large corporations, and to be spent by men who 
 have little property; the manufacturing cities, even 
 the smaller ones, are more closely peopled than 
 those whose greater interest is commerce. 
 
 A distinct class of cities, numerous and popu- 
 lous, has grown up in the last thirty years, away 
 from the coast and from water-powers, but around 
 mines of coal and metals, or near deposits of pe- 
 troleum. Of these Pittsburg and its neighbor 
 Alleghany are the most important. Places like 
 Altoona, Cumberland, Scranton, Wheeling, and 
 Lima are rapidly following them. Wherever there 
 is coal, manufactures spring up, and populous 
 cities; around mines of other minerals have grown
 
 Bmciican Cities. i73 
 
 sometimes strange and phenomenal places. Pit- 
 hole, Pennsylvania, once a ragged, unpromising 
 hill farm, became a city of thirty thousand people ; 
 and a few years later its handsome brick hotels 
 and banks were inhabited by two people, and its 
 railroad was torn up. A similar fate seems likely 
 to overtake Virginia City, Nev., and may possibly 
 overtake Leadville. 
 
 In addition to the geographical reasons which 
 have just been enumerated, there are certain other 
 physical causes which assist the aggregation of 
 people in a particular spot. That place which 
 lies near a good water supply has a better chance of 
 growth ; a city which is easily drained ought to be 
 more healthy ; and a city which has a beautiful and 
 well-improved site, and a system of parks, attracts 
 people of leisure. These causes have a smaller in- 
 fluence than they deserve : Philadelphia has now 
 more than a million of people whose chief drink 
 is Schuylkill water, and a part of whom grow up 
 in spite of surface drainage. On the other hand, 
 cities with fewer natural advantages cheerfully 
 spend large sums on aqueducts or systems for 
 pumping sewage. The less fortunately situated 
 cities have often the best water and the best pleas- 
 ure grounds. It is almost inconceivable that, of 
 all the wealthy cities on the Atlantic coast, not one 
 has a water-front park of any size. The growth 
 of the population has been unexpected to itself ; 
 and the inestimable privilege of a beautiful sea-
 
 174 Bssa^s on (?oveinment. 
 
 front has forever passed away. With the excep- 
 tion of Washington, Chicago, and Boston, hardly 
 any American city is now making adequate pro- 
 vision for parks for the next generation.* 
 
 One of the causes which had most effect upon 
 the growth of ancient and mediaeval cities has very 
 little operation in the United States. Corinth, 
 Perugia, Augsburg, were little independent States ; 
 Syracuse, Florence, or Nuremberg could, on occa- 
 sion, put an army of fifty thousand men into the 
 field. The city was the unit of political life : cities 
 grew because the people were freer there than in 
 the country. No such tendency has ever shown 
 itself in America. Beyond a few angry sugges- 
 tions, during the Civil War, that New York City 
 be created into a separate State, there has been no 
 attempt to make a city a commonwealth ; no one 
 moves from Boston to Philadelphia to escape a 
 tyrant's rule ; no County Democrat is exiled be- 
 cause Tammany has the upper hand ; the cities 
 are subordinated to the States. It is hard to see 
 how it could be otherwise ; but that dependence 
 upon the States has brought a danger into our 
 municipal system : the well-meaning people of the 
 cities have come to look to the State government 
 as a deus ex macJiina ; they expect more from a 
 change of charter than from a change of heart. 
 
 * On this subject there is an interesting monograph by E. R. L. 
 Gould, in the Publications of the American Statistical Association, 
 New Series, Nos. 2, 3.
 
 ainciican Cities. '75 
 
 It is probable that if the people of New York 
 City were left to themselves, and could get no re- 
 lief from Albany, they would have to-day a better, 
 cleaner, and more economical government; and 
 that the much more satisfactory government of 
 Boston would be improved if the responsibility 
 for it were thrown wholly upon the Bostonians. 
 
 When a city is once started, it is likely to grow 
 from the mere force of gravitation. It is more 
 than a figure of speech to use the terms which sug- 
 gest the superior attractiveness of city life. What 
 else is "politics" than what the people of the 
 7r6X.t9 do ? What is the " urbane " man but the 
 dweller in the 2irbs, and the " pagan " but the un- 
 converted dweller in the fields ? Nor is it the 
 higher and more intelligent class which is most at- 
 tracted by city life : where one person is drawn to 
 a city by schools, churches, concerts, libraries, and 
 theatres, five are drawn by the excitement and stir 
 and activity of a city. One of the greatest prob- 
 lems of modern times is how to get people out 
 of the exhausting or despairing life of cities into 
 the quiet and comfort of villages. And while the 
 country life of Newport, Lenox, and Manchester- 
 by-the-Sea, attracts a certain class for a season 
 annually more extended, an increasing number of 
 well-to-do people leave the smaller towns in which 
 they are first in wealth and influence, to engage in 
 a doubtful struggle for recognition by people of 
 greater wealth and social power in the great cities.
 
 176 jEesa^s on Government. 
 
 One city in the Union, the most beautiful of all, 
 and the capital of the nation, owes its growth in 
 considerable part to its attractiveness for people 
 who can live anywhere they like. 
 
 The importance and the beauty of Washington, 
 however, are chiefly due to another cause of 
 growth, the last here to be discussed. It is dis- 
 tinctly an artificial city, a creation rather than a 
 growth. There have been times when the will of 
 a despot has caused the walls of a new city to 
 rise : Alexander built almost as many cities as he 
 destroyed. The will of the sovereign American 
 people has also established cities, and of these 
 Washington is the principal one. Some city was 
 likely to grow up on the lower Potomac, but that 
 it should be Washington rather than Alexandria is 
 due only to the combination of political forces 
 which determined the site of the national capital, 
 — to the quarrel over the assumption of State 
 debts, the arrival of the North Carolina members, 
 and the compromise arranged between the astute 
 Hamilton and the too-confiding Jefferson. Sev- 
 eral considerable cities have been built up in like 
 manner by votes of State legislatures or conven- 
 tions. Harrisburg would be no more important 
 than Lancaster but for its prestige as the Penn- 
 sylvani acapital; Columbus, O., has few natural 
 advantages ; Jefferson City, Mo., would be a ham- 
 let if the legislature had never met there. The 
 smaller centres are powerfully affected by such
 
 Bmcrican Cities. i77 
 
 political distinctions. A few years ago, the peo- 
 ple of a Kansas county were seen with arms in 
 their hands settling the location of the county 
 seat, or boldly moving houses from one would-be 
 metropolis to another. 
 
 The site of Indianapolis was fixed near the cen- 
 tre of gravity of Indiana ; but its growth is due to 
 another artificial cause, peculiar to new countries 
 like America. It is the centre of a great system 
 of radiating railroads; and it has grown, while 
 Cairo, at the confluence of the Ohio and the Mis- 
 sissippi, has decayed. To create a city by con- 
 verging railroads upon a spot in the wilderness is 
 not always possible ; but, when such a centre is 
 formed, it draws population to itself. There was 
 a time when the established towns objected to the 
 noise and bustle of railroads, and compelled them 
 to avoid their limits; for this reason the Boston & 
 Lowell Railroad was obliged to steer between old 
 towns like Woburn and Wilmington. Now towns 
 strive, compete, and tax themselves to bring a 
 railroad ; and Woburn and Wilmington are glad 
 to have even branch connections. The location of 
 the first repair and construction shops makes the 
 nucleus of a town or an addition to an existing 
 town. A positive and even whimsical influence 
 has been exerted by railroads in their choice of 
 termini. An interesting example of this power of 
 a railroad over urban growth was shown a few 
 years ago in the building of the Yellowstone 
 
 12
 
 178 Bssa^s on Government. 
 
 branch of the Northern Pacific. An enterprising 
 man had secured the quarter section at the bottom 
 of the valley where the road must end. Failing 
 to make terms with him, the company took up 
 the upper end of its track, and established its ter- 
 minus two miles farther down. But in the long 
 run the railroads must go to the cities, and not 
 the cities to the railroads. Racine and Dunkirk 
 are discouraging examples to the company which 
 proposes to create a city by bringing the end of a 
 line of rails to its site. 
 
 In their effect upon the older cities, possessed 
 already of inalienable advantages, railroads have 
 been more important than in the creation of new 
 cities. When the AUeghanies were pierced, West- 
 ern commerce poured down into the termini of 
 the railroads. The keen eye of Calhoun early saw 
 that the ship must come to meet the car, and 
 he earnestly advocated a great railroad from 
 Charleston northwestward. But Baltimore, and a 
 little later Philadelphia, had Western lines years 
 before Charleston or Mobile or Savannah or Nor- 
 folk or Richmond, and even before New York, 
 Boston, Portland, and Montreal. The passes now 
 occupied by the New York Central, Pennsylvania, 
 Baltimore & Ohio, and Chesapeake & Ohio Rail- 
 roads, are as much trade routes as the Suez Canal 
 or the Bosphorus : no rival roads can compete on 
 equal terms ; and no neighboring cities can outstrip 
 the termini of these great trunk lines.
 
 Bniciican Cities. i79 
 
 Another form of artificial stimulus to city build- 
 ing has had little influence in the United States. 
 A colonized and colonizing country, no cities have 
 been built up by distinct, elaborate schemes of col- 
 onization. Settlements like Marietta have not 
 grown to the dignity of cities. Settlements like 
 Rugby have failed for want of adaptation to the 
 circumstances. 
 
 The principles upon which the growth of cities 
 depends, as described in this essay, may perhaps 
 be seen more clearly by applying them to a few 
 specific cases. New York was first settled because 
 it was an island — a state of things which the peo- 
 ple have since attempted, at great cost, to remedy. 
 It is susceptible of defence against modern forms 
 of attack, though at present its defences are little 
 more substantial than that fear of torpedoes and 
 rumor of a novel steam craft which kept the 
 British out in 1814. It has the best deep harbor 
 on the Atlantic coast, easy of access for the larg- 
 est vessels in the world. It is the Mecca of most 
 imports. It lies at the end of a magnificent chain 
 of internal navigation, reaching to Chicago and 
 Duluth, and it is the centre of some of the greatest 
 railroad systems in the world. Furthermore, it is 
 the recognized financial centre of the United 
 States. Commercially, therefore, it has no rival 
 in the United States, and can never have any till 
 the hills sink down behind Boston and Philadel- 
 phia, as they do in the Mohawk Valley. The
 
 i8o Besags on Government. 
 
 nearness of coal, and the abundant supply of labor 
 of all kinds, give it a great advantage as a manu- 
 facturing city. New York, with its adjuncts, 
 Brooklyn, Jersey City, and other near cities, has 
 nearly three and a half million people, and is al- 
 ready the second centre of population in the 
 world. It has few artificial advantages : it is not 
 the capital of the State or nation ; it is divided by 
 arms of the sea from two of its three systems 
 of railroads ; it does not attract people by the 
 character of its government. It is the largest city 
 because it has the largest opportunity. 
 
 Boston, despite its great natural advantages, is 
 a great city chiefly because of the character of its 
 leading men. Like New York, it is defended from 
 foreign enemies only by a sense of what is proper 
 among gentlemen. The harbor is fine, though 
 not easy to enter for large vessels. Its eminence 
 depends less on the Western business than on the 
 fact that it is the supply point for considerable 
 parts of New England. Indeed, it is the intimate 
 connection with the business of all New England 
 which makes Boston so important : as a manufact- 
 uring centre it is first in nothing, and only third 
 in curried leather and women's clothes. But it is 
 the centre of administration for the New England 
 mills, and every yard of goods manufactured pays 
 its tribute. It gets its share of immigration from 
 abroad, and more than its share of people from 
 other communities in the United States. The
 
 Bmevican Cities. i8i 
 
 natural beauty of the city is an attraction, greatly 
 aided by the park and other improvements. More 
 than any other city in America, it draws people to 
 it by the excellence of its schools and libraries, 
 and by the public spirit of its citizens. 
 
 Chicago is great both from natural and artificial 
 causes. It is not exposed to foreign attack. The 
 head, in that direction, of the magnificent lake 
 water-ways, it is practically the Western terminus 
 of the Erie Canal, and the most important station 
 on the great trade route from New York to the 
 Pacific Coast and Eastern Asia. Still more impor- 
 tant, and the foundation of the wealth of Chicago, 
 is the great valley of the upper Mississippi, the 
 most fertile large area now occupied by man. 
 Special manufacturing advantages it does not 
 possess, save that Ohio and Pennsylvania coal 
 form a return cargo for its grain fleet. These com- 
 mercial reasons completely compensate for the nat- 
 ural disadvantages of the place, and the tremen- 
 dous energy and skill of the people of Chicago 
 have made it, and will keep it, the second city in 
 the Union. It was this energy which early caused 
 the railroads to stretch out like antennce to the 
 West, and which then foresaw the necessity of a 
 like connection with the East. It is fortunate for 
 the people of the city, and of other cities likely 
 to imitate it, that this restless vigor is now hast- 
 ening to beautify a city of which the site has few 
 natural advantages. Handsome houses, beautiful
 
 1 82 jessage on (Boveinmcnt. 
 
 parks, imposing public buildings, great libraries — 
 in these Chicago bids fair to surpass most of her 
 older rivals : and in the Columbian Exposition 
 Chicago has become the teacher of the nation in 
 architecture, as in energy. 
 
 The second series of questions to be examined 
 in this essay concerns the numbers of the people 
 in American cities.* 
 
 The total number of "cities" within the census 
 definition — an aggregation of eight thousand or 
 more persons living under one local government — 
 is shown in the Appendix. The increase has been 
 much more irregular than that of the total popu- 
 lation of the country. From 1790 to 1840, the 
 increase was comparatively slow. In the next 
 decade, 1840-50, as many cities were added as in 
 the previous half-century. The explanation is to 
 
 * On this subject, the most valuable source is, of course, the 
 Census Publications. Mr. E. C. I.unt, in the A'ey to the Publica- 
 tions of the United States Census, 1790-1880, published in 1888 
 by the American Statistical Association, has prepared a valuable 
 comparative index to the forty odd volumes and to much other sta- 
 tistical literature. For the purposes of this paper, four volumes 
 of the Tenth Census (1880) are especially useful. They are: 
 Vol I., on Population ; Vol. II., on Manufactures ; and Vols. 
 XVII. and XVIII., on Social Statistics of Cities. A part of the 
 tables are reproduced in the briefer Compendium of the Tenth 
 Census. Some of the material is restated in Scribner's Statistical 
 Atlas, with illustrative charts (Newr York, 1885). From the 
 Eleventh Census of 1890, we have as yet only the partial bulle- 
 tins, especially No. 52. 
 
 For cities outside the United States, the most convenient sum- 
 maries are found in ^IwWiiW-iDictionary of Statistics (&A. of 1S91).
 
 Bmeiican Cities, 183 
 
 be found in two facts, — the development of the 
 first system of Eastern and trans- Appalachian rail- 
 roads, and the beginning of immigration on a large 
 scale.* The same causes increased the cities from 
 85 to 141 during the decade 1850-60. The 
 Civil War rather stimulated than retarded the 
 growth of cities of all sizes, and raised the total 
 number by 85. A steadier growth of 60 in the 
 years 1870-80 made the total of 286; in the 
 next decade, 1880-90, the number increased by 
 more than one-half, to 443. 
 
 In the same appendix (Table I.) is found a class- 
 ification of cities by size. Nearly two-thirds (278) 
 may be classed as small cities, having less than 
 20,000 people. The cities of medium population, 
 from 20,000 to 40,000, make up about one-fifth of 
 the whole number. The large cities, having more 
 than 40,000 people, were 74 in number in 1890, 
 and have been for some decades pretty steadily a 
 sixth of the total number. 
 
 The change in proportions has brought about a 
 corresponding change in the average size of our 
 cities.t In 1800, it was 35,000. In 1850, it had 
 fallen to less than 32,000. In 1890, it was 41,000. 
 Or, to state it in other terms, the medium and large 
 cities attract more than their share of the total 
 
 * The lailioad mileage was, in 1830, 23 miles; in 1840, 818; 
 in 1850, 9,021. Immigration rose from 23,322 in 1830 10310,004 
 
 in 1850. 
 
 f See Appendix, Table II.
 
 1 84 B63a^6 on Government. 
 
 growth of city population. In the Eastern and 
 Middle States, the formation of centres of popu- 
 lation is about completed. Henceforth popula- 
 tion will grow about them rather than form new 
 nuclei. 
 
 The 443 cities in 1890 are, of course, to be 
 found most abundantly in the most populous 
 parts of the country — New England, the middle 
 coast States, the region just south of the Great 
 Lakes. But the distribution of cities is far from 
 being the same as that of the population. New 
 England, with less than one-thirteenth of the total 
 population of the country, has quite one-fifth of 
 the cities and about one-eighth of the urban pop- 
 ulation. New York, New Jersey, and Pennsyl- 
 vania, taken together, contain one-fifth of the peo- 
 ple of the United States, about one- fourth of the 
 cities, and two-fifths of the urban population. The 
 six coast States from Virginia to Florida contain 
 one-ninth of the population, one-fifteenth of the 
 cities, and one twenty-fourth of the urban popu- 
 lation. In 1890, as many people lived in Brook- 
 lyn alone as in all the cities of those six States. 
 A still more striking contrast exists between New 
 Jersey and Mississippi. The two States had in 
 1880 almost exactly the same population (1,100,- 
 000). Of these there lived in New Jersey cities, 
 500,000; in Mississippi cities, 11,814. 
 
 Not only do the large cities gain on the smaller, 
 but the cities, as a whole, gain fast on the popula-
 
 Bmerican Cities. 185 
 
 tion outside of the cities.* In 1790, the city popula- 
 tion was but one thirteenth of the total. In i860, 
 it was 5,000,000 out of 31,000,000, or nearly one- 
 sixth. In 1890, it was 29 per cent. This is a 
 most significant and fundamental fact ; for it 
 means a gradual change of the basis -on which our 
 institutions rest. The republic was founded for a 
 country largely agricultural, with a diffused popu- 
 lation, having means of easy subsistence. It will 
 soon need to stand, and will stand, for a popula- 
 tion of which one-half lives in towns of 4,000 in- 
 habitants or upwards. The present proportion of 
 urban population is by no means alarming. It is, 
 to be sure, more than that of Italy, or France,t 
 and is not much under that of densely populated 
 Belgium or Holland. But it is rather less than 
 that of Australia, where the conditions are very 
 similar, and about half that of England. Im- 
 proved methods of agriculture, systematized trans- 
 portation and distribution, make it possible to 
 feed and to keep in content masses of popula- 
 tion which would have broken down any medi- 
 aeval government. 
 
 Next in importance to the question of the total 
 population in cities is the question of the compar- 
 ative growth of great cities.:}: Here, as in the 
 
 * See Appendix, Table II. 
 
 f An elaborate comparison is made in Mulhall's Dictionaty of 
 Statistics, p. 36. 
 
 \ Tlie statements in this and succeeding paragraphs are based on
 
 1^6 Bssags on Government. 
 
 former case, may be clearly seen the effect of the 
 development of water-ways from 1820, and of 
 railroads from about 1830. Up to 1820, Philadel- 
 phia was the first city in the Union ; and in that 
 year it was found to be the first American city 
 having a population of more than 100,000 — a dis- 
 tinction shared with twenty-seven others in 1890. 
 The Erie Canal was finished in 1825 : the effect is 
 seen in the rapid leap of New York from 108,000 
 in 1820 to 209,000 in 1830. Thenceforward it has 
 been the undisputed metropolis of the Union. By 
 the census of 1890 New York had 1,515,000 peo- 
 ple. This is generally considered an understate- 
 ment, and the growth of the three years from 1890 
 to 1893 must have brought the total up to a num- 
 ber little short of two millions, or about as much 
 as the population of all the New England and 
 Middle States in 1790. Philadelphia has kept a 
 steady upward course, and numbered in 1890 more 
 than a million. But Philadelphia, unlike New 
 York, has greatly extended her limits of late years, 
 and thus has swept in adjacent centres of popula- 
 tion. 
 
 Brooklyn is a phenomenon among the world's 
 cities. Lined with wharves, it can hardly be 
 called a commercial city ; abounding in factories, 
 it is not eminent for manufactures. Its indepen- 
 dent life is dwarfed by that of its great neighbor ; 
 
 the Tenth Census, Vol, I., Population, and on the Eleventh Cen- 
 sus, Bulletins Nos. 52,357.
 
 Bmeiican Cities, 187 
 
 and the social and political activity of this city of 
 806,000 people is decidedly less than that of its 
 nearest rival, Chicago. The table shows clearly 
 the rocket-like growth of this latter American 
 wonder. In 1820 Chicago had no population 
 worth considering; in 1840, it timidly appears in 
 the census with 5,000. Lake navigation, the 
 stimulus of Eastern and Western railroads, the 
 Civil War, the control of the trade of the great 
 North-west, have brought Chicago up to the sec- 
 ond rank of American cities, from which it is not 
 likely ever to be displaced. 
 
 St. Louis now slightly surpasses Boston in num- 
 bers. Its growth has been retarded by the slower 
 development of the South-west as compared with 
 the North-west, and by the decline of the Missouri 
 navigation and the decay of the Mississippi trade. 
 New Orleans has suffered from the same cause. 
 
 The next two cities, Baltimore and Boston, 
 have been close rivals in population for a hundred 
 years; they have been much alike in situation, in 
 relation to the country back of them, and in en- 
 terprise. Boston had 18,000 to Baltimore's 13,000 
 in 1790. From 1800 to 1870, Baltimore drew 
 ahead. In 1880, notwithstanding the fire of 1872, 
 Boston had taken a leap, and maintains what 
 seems likely to be a permanent superiority. 
 
 Besides the cities mentioned, there are three 
 centres likely henceforth to be of very great im- 
 portance. San Francisco, in 1890 the eighth city
 
 1 88 Bssa^s on ©overnmcnt. 
 
 in the Union, enjoys the only really good harbor 
 between Puget Sound and the Straits of Magel- 
 lan. Were the fertile country back of it as broad 
 as that back of New York, it would rival the me- 
 tropolis. It must certainly become one of the 
 world's great cities. Kansas City has advanced 
 from 32,000 in 1870 and 56,000 in 1880 to 133,000 
 in 1890. By its direct connections eastward, it is 
 drawing business which would otherwise go to St. 
 Louis, and is becoming an intermediary of the 
 South-western trade. The same state of things 
 exists in the North-west. St. Paul and Minne- 
 apolis together had 33,000 in 1870, 58,000 in 1880, 
 and 300,000 in 1S90. They have thrust them- 
 selves between Chicago and the far North-west, 
 and are likely to form one of our greatest cities. 
 They, too, have secured direct Eastern roads ; but, 
 as these roads pass through Canada, the rapid 
 growth of the dual city is leading to serious com- 
 plications of international trade. A growth such 
 as these cities show is without parallel in the his- 
 tory of the world. The same influences of rail- 
 roads and of vast movements of commerce, have 
 been at work abroad. London, Berlin, Paris, have 
 gained enormously; but Paris, which may have at 
 present a population of 2,300,000, had 550,000 in 
 1800, and nearly 2,000,000 in 1870.* 
 
 In this eager current of growing population 
 there are some eddies. Even in America, some 
 
 * Encyclopcedia Britannka, 9th edition, vol. xviii. p. 277.
 
 Bmcrican Cities. 189 
 
 considerable cities are stationary or moving back- 
 ward. Tills has been the case with some of the 
 smaller New England seaports, and would have 
 been the case with all, but for the sagacity of the 
 New England men who turned into manufactures 
 the profits of the India trade and of whaling. In 
 1870, Newburyport had 11,000 to Brockton's 
 8,000; in 1880, Brockton had gained 19,000, and 
 Newburyport but 2,000. Milford, Mass., in the 
 two decades, 1870-1890, fell off from 9,900 to 
 8,800. Oswego, N. Y., has gained only 500 in 
 twenty years. 
 
 That the tremendous growth of our cities, par- 
 ticularly of the greater ones, is very unfavorable 
 for municipal government, hardly needs assertion. 
 The increase of numbers means that the people and 
 the city government never keep pace with their 
 own necessities. Cities outgrow their charters, as 
 boys outgrow suits of clothes. The digestive 
 organs of the civil body are constantly overtaxed ; 
 comprehensive schemes of improvement become 
 too small. New-comers never feel the same pride, 
 the same sense of ownership and responsibility; and 
 the influx of strangers hastens that crowding of 
 experienced men out of public life which is one of 
 our most disagreeable public ills. But the problem 
 must be met. The good citizen of Boston must 
 make plans for a population of a million, and for a 
 growth of municipal skill sufficient to control that 
 number. New York must maintain a popular
 
 I90 B0tiag3 on (Bovcnuncnt. 
 
 government able economically to care for four mill- 
 ions. The danger to free institutions keeps pace 
 with the growth of the population of great cities. 
 
 The third part of our inquiry relates to the de- 
 rivation of city population.* There are three 
 sources from which our cities are fed : first, from 
 their own natural increase; second, from an influx 
 of native Americans from outside; third, from an 
 influx of foreigners. A fourth element, which 
 needs to be taken into account in some cities, is the 
 colored population, which corresponds in many 
 respects to the foreign element. 
 
 The proportion of foreigners to the total popula- 
 tion of the country was in 1890 about 15 percent. ; 
 but the proportion in the 124 cities and towns of 
 25,000 and upward was no less than 29 per cent. 
 In other words, cities and towns, which contain 
 about one-fourth of the population, have nearly 
 half the foreigners. The proportion holds good 
 throughout the various groups of cities. In 1880 
 the medium cities of 75,000 to 200,000, taken 
 together averaged 27 per cent; while the smaller 
 cities, from 75,000 to 40,000, average only 24 per 
 cent. This relative disproportion no longer ap- 
 pears. 
 
 * The figures following are based on the Tenth Census, Vol. I. 
 (Population), and the Eleventh Census Bulletins, Nos. 52, 83, lOO, 
 165, 357. In the original article is also a table of predicted popu- 
 lations, which shows the difficulty of estimating the growth of 
 cities between Censuses,
 
 amciicaii Cities. 191 
 
 The case is even worse with certain individual 
 cities. Boston had 30 per cent, in 1880 and 33 per 
 cent, in 1890. New York in 1880 had 40 per cent., 
 a proportion increased, on the face of the Census 
 of 1890, to 42, and probably even larger than the 
 figures show. In some of the New England fac- 
 tory towns, the foreigners were as many as 48 
 per cent. In Holyoke and Fall River, Mass., they 
 had increased to about 50 per cent, in 1890, and 
 are probably increasing. Chicago has been popu- 
 larly supposed to be more than half foreign, but 
 the Census of 1890 shows only 40 per cent., or less 
 than New York. 
 
 The absolute numbers of foreigners in cities vary 
 in ratios widely different from their total popula 
 tion. Thus in 1890 Atlanta and Cambridge had 
 almost the same population. In Atlanta there were 
 1,871 foreigners, in Cambridge 23,851. The for- 
 eign populations of Manchester, N, H., and Wash- 
 ington were about the same, but the latter city has 
 more than five times as many people as Manches- 
 ter. Of the smaller cities. Bay City, Duluth, and 
 Paterson are notable for large numbers of foreign- 
 ers. The great interior cities, St. Paul, Minne- 
 apolis, Milwaukee, Detroit, Cleveland, Buffalo, 
 Cincinnati, had within their borders each from 
 50,0(X) to 100,000 foreigners. St. Louis has 1 1 5,000, 
 San Francisco has 127,000. But these numbers 
 are insignificant beside the 158,000 of Boston, the 
 267,000 of Brooklyn, the 269,000 of Philadelphia,
 
 192 B0sa\:s on (Borcnimcnt. 
 
 and the vast multitudes of 450,000 in Chicago, and 
 640,000 in the city of New York. 
 
 If we go a little farther into the details of nativ- 
 ity,* some curious facts appear as to the prefer- 
 ences of different peoples for particular cities or 
 kinds of cities. The Orient sends 25,000 to San 
 Francisco, but only about 6,000 to the fifty other 
 cities of greatest population, taken together. The 
 Scandinavians show no preference for the great 
 cities, except Chicago, St. Paul, and Minneapo- 
 lis ; elsewhere they are as frequent in the country 
 as in the towns. In the ten largest cities dwell 
 775,000 Germans, who make up 1 1 per cent, of the 
 population. This is nearly thrice their average 
 throughout the country. Boston is least beloved 
 by them ; New York, Chicago, Brooklyn, St. 
 Louis, and Cincinnati most. There are more 
 Germans in New York than in Leipsic. A fourth 
 of all the French in the United States may be 
 found in the ten great cities, which have but a tenth 
 of the total population. Of the 1,870,000 Irish, 
 no less than 625,000 inhabit the same ten cities; 
 and 270,000 more dwell in the next forty cities. 
 Nearly half the number of this race have therefore 
 chosen cities of more than 55,000 people. Within 
 the ten cities, one person in thirteen is Irish; out- 
 side them, one person in thirty-three. The natives 
 of Great Britain are as frequent outside the cities 
 as in them. Of the 980,000 British Americans in 
 * See Appendix, Table V.
 
 Bmcrfcan Cities. i93 
 
 the country, few are found in large cities, but a 
 much greater number in the smaller manufacturing 
 places, where the French Canadians congregate. 
 The Russians, Hungarians, Bohemians, Poles, and 
 Italians were few in number as late as 1880. Since 
 that time there has been a great immigration of all 
 these races. In New York there are 49,000 Rus- 
 sians; in Cleveland, 10,000 Bohemians; in Chi- 
 cago, 34,000 Poles; in Brooklyn, 10,000 Italians. 
 These are examples of many such colonies, in which 
 few persons understand English. 
 
 It is evident from the above analysis that the 
 large cities, which most need efficient government, 
 are precisely those which receive an undue propor- 
 tion of immigrants ; and they are, moreover, most 
 attractive to those immigrants who are least accus- 
 tomed to self-government and least amenable to 
 mild restraint. 
 
 That ignorant immigrants are not the only hin- 
 drances to good city government is shown conclu- 
 sively in the case of Southern cities. New Orleans, 
 though a seaport of large trade, has but 14 per cent, 
 of foreigners. Baltimore, by far the largest and 
 most energetic of Southern cities, has but 15 per 
 cent. In all these cities, the colored element takes 
 the place of the foreign. The native white popu- 
 lation of Baltimore is about the same in proportion 
 as that of Boston — a little over two-thirds of the 
 whole — and smaller in proportion than that of 
 Philadelphia, where it is nearly three-fourths. In 
 13
 
 194 B0saB0 on (Bovcvnmcnt. 
 
 a few of the smaller Southern cities, the blacks 
 actually outnumber the whites. This is the case 
 with Selma and Montgomery, Alabama; with Wil- 
 mington, North Carolina, where the black popula- 
 tion in 1890 made up about 56 per cent., and not- 
 ably with Charleston, where they were about 60 
 per cent. For reasons better understood in the 
 South than in the North, the negro vote seems to 
 cause little difificulty in municipal elections. ' 
 
 The proportions of foreign and of colored ele- 
 ments have been much studied. Less attention 
 has been paid to the very important question. How 
 many dwellers in cities were born in other parts of 
 the United States ? For a definite answer to that 
 inquiry, figures are not attainable. But the Census 
 of 1880 showed how many people in each of the 
 greater cities were born in another State than that 
 in which the city is situated. As people born in a 
 city who afterward reside elsewhere, to some ex- 
 tent offset those born within the same State who 
 afterward came into the city, these figures may be 
 taken as representing approximately the drift of 
 the native born toward the cities.* 
 
 The great cities which have proved most attrac- 
 tive to people from other States are Chicago and 
 Boston. While such American immigrants formed 
 in 1880 but one-fifteenth of the population of New 
 York and one-ninth of that of Philadelphia, they 
 made one-fifth in Chicago. The case of Boston 
 
 * See Appendix, Table IV.
 
 Hmciican Cities. ^95 
 
 is even more striking; 52,000, or one-seventh of 
 the population, had been born in other States 
 than Massachusetts. The census for Massachusetts 
 for 1885 shows that 40,000 people have come into 
 that city from other parts of Massachusetts. The 
 astonishing result is that of 362,000 people at that 
 time in Boston, only about 135,000 were born in 
 the city itself; 90,000 were native Americans, else- 
 where born; and 114,000 were foreign born. The 
 city most remarkable of all for this magnetic 
 quality is Washington. Of the native whites liv- 
 ing there in 1880, one-third were born outside 
 the city. 
 
 The movement thus vaguely indicated is only 
 one of the three great elements in the rapid 
 growth of the cities — a rapid natural increase, due 
 to easy conditions of life; a rapid immigration; 
 and an influx from the surrounding country. But 
 the first two of these causes harm only the cities 
 themselves : if a city's children increase faster 
 than its schools and workshops, the curse falls on 
 the city ; if immigrants outvote and control the 
 native whites, the injury stops with the city limits. 
 The farmer's boy or the mill-hand who comes 
 to the city brings force and energy, of which he 
 deprives another part of the country. The cities 
 draw not only the worst, but the most promising 
 elements. The desertion of the New England hill 
 farms is due chiefly to the better opportunities of 
 the city. The nation gains, for the same persons
 
 196 Bssa^s on ©overnmcnt. 
 
 have a larger field ; but the process means that the 
 political control of the farmers must some time 
 fail, and that the people of the cities are eventually 
 to be the great controlling force in the affairs of 
 the nation. 
 
 From the statistics analyzed in the preceding 
 paragraphs, it is evident that in no important 
 American city is there any danger that the foreign 
 will outnumber the native-born element. Even in 
 New York the proportion has risen little above 
 forty per cent. Nevertheless, a closer examination 
 will show conclusively that most of the great cities 
 are now dominated by foreigners, and will be 
 dominated by their descendants. In Boston, for 
 example, there were, in 1885, 275,000 persons 
 American born to 132,000 foreign born ; but 137,- 
 000 of the natives were minors ; while of the 
 foreigners only 12,000 were minors. The number 
 of foreign-born and native adults of voting age was 
 almost exactly the same for each element. The 
 children of the 120,000 foreigners are certain in the 
 future to be as numerous as those of the natives. 
 Indeed, the 120,000 native-born persons must in- 
 clude thousands of sons and daughters of foreign 
 parents. The future of Boston, therefore, depends 
 not upon the children of the Puritans, but upon 
 the children of the stranger. 
 
 The excess of adults over the normal proportion 
 in our cities is indeed startling. In the United 
 States, as a whole, notwithstanding the large im-
 
 Hmerican Cities. i97 
 
 migration of adults, the number of persons be- 
 tween the ages of fifteen and twenty is still larger 
 by a fourth than that of persons between the ages 
 of twenty-five and thirty.* In Boston, however, 
 the number of persons aged from twenty to twenty- 
 nine years is greater by 18,000 than that of per- 
 sons aged from ten to nineteen years.f We 
 should know without statistics that this must be 
 the effect of immigration. The statistics tell us 
 of the thousands of recruits from the country and 
 the many more thousands from abroad. At every 
 age, adult foreigners in Boston are hardly less 
 numerous than adult Americans ; and from the 
 ages of forty to sixty they are more numerous. 
 That government is not entirely in the hands of 
 foreigners is due to the fact that they are of many 
 nationalities, and cannot be brought into the same 
 parties or political combinations. In New York, 
 however, the domination is much more evident, 
 both because of a higher state of political barbarism 
 and because of greater relative numbers. The ap- 
 pended Table VI. shows in round numbers the state 
 of things in 1875. At all the ages above twenty- 
 nine the foreigners are vastly more numerous. Of 
 five persons above the age of thirty-five years whom 
 one might meet hap-hazard on the streets in 1875, 
 the chances were that four were born abroad. 
 That the leaven of the American system of gov- 
 
 * Tenth Census, I. , 548, 549. 
 
 f See Appendix, Tables VI. and Vll., for figures on this subject.
 
 198 B06ag5 on ©oveinmciit. 
 
 ernment working in this mass can keep the body 
 politic from decay, is a most striking proof of the 
 power of an intelligent minority and of free insti- 
 tutions. 
 
 In the cities, as in other parts of the country, 
 the proportion of foreign-born persons must very 
 soon decrease. The stream of immigration in the 
 fifties added two and a half per cent, yearly to our 
 numbers. At present, though still great in vol- 
 ume, it adds less than one per cent. It is probable 
 that New York will never again have such a large 
 proportion of foreigners. But it must be admit- 
 ted that, it is the children of foreigners who are 
 next to assume control, and their children who will 
 maintain it. The precise statement as to the num- 
 ber of native persons in New York City, one at 
 least of whose parents was a foreigner, is not yet 
 made public. It is probably not far from one-half 
 the population. New York, then, in 1890, must 
 have had seventy per cent, to eighty per cent, of 
 foreigners and children of foreigners. The wealth 
 and greatness of the city distinctly show that 
 energy and skill are not confined to the native 
 elements. The real question seems to be how far 
 the sons of foreigners will become Americans, how 
 far they will adopt the language, habits, interests, 
 political aptitudes, which are presumed in the 
 citizens of a free republic. In New York in 1890, 
 besides the 190,000 Irish, the German, Scandi- 
 navian, and English elements were about 300,000.
 
 Bmcrican Cities. i99 
 
 There seems reason to hope that the last three 
 groups, at least, will speedily be absorbed, and 
 that their children will be Americans, and noth- 
 ing else. 
 
 Inspection of the tables showing the status of 
 Boston and New York brings out a very remark- 
 able phenomenon. As in many parts of the East, 
 the women decidedly outnumber the men ; but 
 this excess is due almost entirely to foreigners. In 
 Boston the native males in 1888 were 127,500, and 
 the native females were 130,500. The foreign- 
 born males were 59,000, and the foreign females 
 73,600. Or, to put it into more popular form, two 
 American girls out of a hundred could find no 
 American husband ; but thirteen foreign-born girls 
 out of a hundred could find no mate among 
 foreign born men. Not only is this excess pecul- 
 iar to the foreign element, but is especially notice- 
 able in the ages from fifteen to twenty-nine. In 
 New York, the surplus of foreign-born women 
 over men between those ages alone was 17,000. 
 The only plausible explanation is that large num- 
 bers of foreigners come into the cities to enter 
 domestic service; and that in large manufacturing 
 cities there is more employment for the poorly 
 paid labor of women than is possible in smaller 
 places. A still more unaccountable complication 
 in New York is the excess by 5,000 of native 
 girls of fifteen to nineteen over boys of the same 
 age. It is not possible from the statistics to learn
 
 200 jEssa^B on Government. 
 
 whether this is caused by an exodus of young 
 men or by the coming into the city of American 
 girls. 
 
 The questions both of age and of sex have a 
 serious bearing on the welfare of cities. At pres- 
 ent the great cities have an abnormal proportion 
 of adults. During the next forty years the pro- 
 portion of children will steadily increase. Schools 
 already crowded, and systems of education which 
 ought to be outgrown, will become even more in- 
 adequate. The great problem how to deal with 
 homeless children will be still greater. The ex- 
 cess of foreign-born women will have an important 
 bearing on the new question of woman suffrage. 
 The effect of that change, if carried to its full and 
 logical extent, must inevitably be still further to 
 increase the proportion of the foreign vote. 
 
 Allusion has already been made to the political 
 effect of the colored population of Southern cities. 
 The social effect is even more marked. There is, 
 of course, no prospect that the dark race will be 
 absorbed ; and the problem is therefore a per- 
 manent one. Even in cities like New York or 
 Boston, in which not one person in sixty is 
 colored, distinct colored quarters have been 
 formed and will be continued. In the Southern 
 cities there is a lack of that harmony of feeling 
 between the races which is the essential of stable 
 society, and especially of good government. 
 
 We may now summarize briefly the conclusions
 
 amcrican Cities. 201 
 
 reached in this study of the conditions of city 
 planting and city growth in the United States : 
 
 The situation of cities depends chiefly on natural 
 causes ; but, once planted, the larger places have 
 power to profit by artificial stimuli, such as im- 
 migration and railroads. 
 
 The great cities of the future must grow up out 
 of present cities, large or small. There will be no 
 more surprises. 
 
 The tendency of systematized transportation is 
 to cause the larger cities to gain faster than small 
 ones. 
 
 The tendency of modern life is to cause the 
 urban population to gain faster than the general 
 population. 
 
 Since no sufficient pains has been taken to pro- 
 vide for the future, crowding and its associated 
 evils are likely to be more prevalent. 
 
 Most foreign elements will eventually be ab- 
 sorbed ; but the effects of their former existence 
 will be seen in a type of character in cities differ- 
 ent from that found in country regions. 
 
 The children of the present foreigners, and their 
 descendants, will be the rulers of future cities; and 
 the great unsolved problem is, What are they to 
 be? 
 
 Hence the hope of the cities is in the genera- 
 tion to come, and the best service that a reformer 
 can render is to aid in putting right examples 
 and right principles into the minds of the children.
 
 202 
 
 Bssags on ©ovcniment. 
 
 STATISTICS ON THE POPULATION OF AMERICAN CITIES. 
 Table I.— Number of Cities, 1790-1890.* 
 
 
 8,000 
 
 21,000 
 
 20,000 
 
 40,000 
 
 75,000 
 
 125,000 
 
 250,000 
 
 500,000 
 
 To- 
 
 
 to 
 
 to 
 
 to 
 
 to 
 
 to 
 
 to 
 
 to 
 
 to 
 
 tal, 
 
 
 12,000 
 
 20,000 
 
 40,000 
 
 75,000 
 
 125,000 
 
 250,000 
 
 500,000 
 
 2,000,000 
 
 
 1790.. 
 
 I 
 
 3 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 
 
 6 
 6 
 
 1800.. 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 
 
 I8I0.. 
 
 4 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 
 [I 
 
 1820.. 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 
 13 
 
 1830.. 
 
 12 
 
 7 
 
 3 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 26 
 
 1840.. 
 
 t7 
 
 II 
 
 10 
 
 I 
 
 3 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 
 44 
 
 1850.. 
 
 36 
 
 20 
 
 14 
 
 7 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 ss 
 
 i860.. 
 
 62 
 
 34 
 
 23 
 
 12 
 
 2 
 
 5 
 
 I 
 
 2 
 
 141 
 
 1870.. 
 
 92 
 
 63 
 
 39 
 
 14 
 
 8 
 
 3 
 
 5 
 
 2 
 
 226 
 
 1880.. 
 
 no 
 
 76 
 
 55 
 
 21 
 
 9 
 
 7 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 286 
 
 .^ 1890. . 
 
 173 
 
 105 
 
 91 
 
 35 
 
 14 
 
 14 
 
 7 
 
 4 
 
 443 
 
 Table II, —Comparison of Urban and Rural Population, 
 
 1 790- 1890. f 
 
 1790. 
 1800. 
 1810. 
 1820. 
 1830. 
 1840. 
 1850. 
 i860. 
 1870. 
 1880. 
 1890. 
 
 Total 
 Cities 
 8,000. 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 II 
 
 13 
 26 
 
 44 
 
 8S 
 
 141 
 
 226 
 
 286 
 
 Total Urban 
 Population. 
 
 131,472 
 210,873 
 356,920 
 
 473,135 
 864,509 
 
 1.453,994 
 2,897,586 
 5,072,256 
 8,071,875 
 
 11,318,547 
 18,235,670 
 
 Total Percentage 
 
 „ ^°r;. of Urban 
 
 Popnlation. ^^ ^^j^,_ 
 
 3,929,214 
 
 5,308,483 
 
 7,239,881 
 
 9,633,822 
 
 12,866,020 
 
 17,069,453 
 
 23,191,876 
 
 31.443,321 
 
 38.558.371 
 50.155.783 
 62,622,250 
 
 3-4 
 
 4.0 
 
 4.9 
 
 4.9 
 
 6.7 
 
 8.5 
 
 12.5 
 
 16.1 
 
 20. 9 
 
 22.6 
 
 29.1 
 
 * From Tenth Census (1880), I. x.\ix ; Eleventh Census (1890), Bulletin No. 251, p. 4- 
 t Compiled from the Tenth Census {1880), I. xxix, xxx, 670, II. xxii ; Tenth Census 
 Compendium, I. 8 ; Eleventh Census, Bulletin No. 52, p. 2.
 
 Bmcrlcan Cities. 
 
 203 
 
 Table III. — Origin of Urban Population 
 
 Cities in 1880.* 
 
 OF Fifty Largest 
 
 Foreign 
 Born. 
 
 1. New York ' 478,670 
 
 2. Philadelphia ! 204,335 
 
 3. lirooklyn 177,694 
 
 4. Chicago 204,859 
 
 5. lioston ' 114,796 
 
 6. St. Louis I 105,013 
 
 7. I'altimore 56,136 
 
 8. Cincinnati 7i>6S9 
 
 g. San Francisco | 104,244 
 
 10. New Orleans j 41,157 
 
 Ten largest cities 11558,563 
 
 11-15. Five cities, — Cleveland, 
 Pittsburg, lUiffalo, 
 
 Washington, Newark. : 209.854 
 
 16-24. Nine cities of 125,000 toi 
 
 75,000 ! 265,241 
 
 25-45. Twenty-one cities of 
 
 75,000 to 40000 255,616 
 
 46-50. Five cities below 40,000.. I 41,673 
 
 Fifty largest cities i 2,330,947 
 
 Born in 
 State. 
 
 647,299 
 
 554,449 
 344.324 
 197,728 
 196,256 
 
 I73'453 
 242,050 
 
 151.447 
 
 78,144 
 
 151,086 
 
 2,736,236 
 
 419.819 
 511.949 
 
 622,965 
 96,666 
 
 4.387.635 
 
 Born in 
 U. S. out 
 of State. 
 
 80,330 
 
 88,386 
 
 44,645 
 100, sgS 
 
 51,787 
 72.052 
 
 34.127 
 32-033 
 51.571 
 23,846 
 
 579.375 
 
 125,797 
 
 138.936 
 
 181,410 
 50,802 
 
 Total 
 
 Native. 
 
 1,076,320 
 
 727,629 
 642,835 
 388,969 
 298,326 
 248,043 
 
 245.505 
 276,177 
 183,480 
 129,715 
 174.933 
 
 3,315,012 
 
 545,616 
 
 650,885 
 
 804,375 
 147,468 
 
 5.463.955 
 
 Total 
 Popula- 
 tion. 
 
 1,206,299 
 847,170 
 566,663 
 503.185 
 362,839 
 350,518 
 332,313 
 255.139 
 233,959 
 216,090 
 
 4.874,175 
 
 755-47° 
 915,126 
 
 1,059,991 
 189,141 
 
 7.793.903 
 
 Table IV. — Status of the Population of New York City, 1875. f 
 
 Under 5 
 5 to 9. 
 10 to 14 
 15 to 19 
 20 to 24 
 25 to 29 
 30 to 34 . 
 35 to 39. 
 40 to 44 . 
 45 to 49. 
 50 to 54. 
 55 to 59. 
 60 to 64 
 65 to 69 
 70 to 74. 
 75 to 79. 
 80 to 84. 
 
 Ages. 
 
 Males. 
 
 Females. 
 
 Total. 
 
 Native. 
 
 Total. 
 
 Native. 
 
 63,000 
 
 63,000 
 
 61,000 
 
 61,000 
 
 55.0CO 
 
 51,000 
 
 55.000 
 
 51,000 
 
 48,000 
 
 42,000 
 
 49,000 
 
 43.000 
 
 50,000 
 
 40,000 ' 
 
 58,000 
 
 45.000 
 
 48,000 
 
 29,000 1 
 
 59.000 
 
 32,000 
 
 49,000 
 
 ig.ooo 
 
 56,000 
 
 20,000 
 
 46,000 
 
 14,000 
 
 45,000 
 
 14,000 
 
 41,000 
 
 11,000 
 
 39-000 
 
 10,000 
 
 34,000 
 
 8,000 
 
 33,000 
 
 17,000 
 
 26,000 
 
 6,000 
 
 24,000 
 
 5,000 
 
 21,000 
 
 5, 000 
 
 21,000 
 
 5,000 
 
 II,DOO 
 
 3,000 
 
 11,000 
 
 3,000 
 
 9,000 
 
 2,000 
 
 11.000 
 
 3,000 
 
 4,000 
 
 1,000 
 
 6,000 
 
 2,000 
 
 3,000 
 
 1,300 
 
 4,000 
 
 1,000 
 
 1,500 
 
 500 
 
 2,000 
 
 1,000 
 
 700 
 
 300 
 
 1,300 
 
 500 
 
 * Compiled from the Tenth Census, 1880, I. 536-539. Similar figures from the Eleventh 
 Census are not yet attainable. 
 
 t Compiled from the Census of New York, 1875, pp. 117-iig. Similar figures are not 
 obtainable from the Tenth Census (1880), or from the published Bulletins of the Eleventh 
 Census.
 
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 r^oo r^sO 
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 UKIUJ3Q 
 
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 oo-o roo onO mmw ■**■ 
 
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 OmDnO mN Oooco •-' M 
 
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 r^ N 
 
 On^O fOt^OVO M NvD 
 
 rO 
 
 
 
 
 M M mw ONOiroM mro 
 
 ■»^ 
 
 
 
 
 
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 •-"vd 
 
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 -* 
 
 
 M 
 
 ^? 
 
 •ISBH 3HX 
 
 I- CO O m -i-vO "^ CJ 00 r<i 
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 t^ in 
 
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 wi2; -rt 
 
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 ^s 
 
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 oo o 
 
 fO o 
 
 
 
 ,r9- 
 
 
 11 
 
 V 
 
 — flj 
 
 o > . 
 
 c.SS 
 rt 5 3 
 
 ^ SO 
 
 •c o "> 
 
 ~ "<» 
 
 a "M 
 
 Ul 
 ^ ,-i2 
 
 CQ L- 1> 
 <-> M > 
 
 (/^ :t3 o 
 
 3 •£ 
 
 • — T*^ t/l
 
 Bmcrican Cities. 
 
 205 
 
 Table VI.— Status of the Population of Boston, 1885, 
 
 Males. 
 
 
 Born in 
 
 Born in 
 
 Total 
 
 Native. 
 
 
 
 Ages. 
 
 Massachu- 
 
 other parts 
 
 Foreign. 
 
 Sum Total. 
 
 
 setts. 
 
 of U.S. 
 
 
 
 
 Under i 
 
 3.476 
 
 37 
 
 3,513 
 
 24 
 
 3.537 
 
 1-4 
 
 13.351 
 
 480 
 
 13,831 
 
 550 
 
 14,381 
 
 S-9 
 
 15.J65 
 
 969 
 
 16,134 
 
 1,642 
 
 17,776 
 
 10-13 
 
 11,219 
 
 980 
 
 12.199 
 
 1,320 
 
 13,519 
 
 14-19 
 
 14,061 
 
 2,028 
 
 16,089 
 
 3,563 
 
 19,652 
 
 20-29 
 
 19.147 
 
 6,668 
 
 25,715 
 
 13.530 
 
 39,245 
 
 30-39 
 
 10,580 
 
 6,406 
 
 16,986 
 
 14.471 
 
 31,457 
 
 40-49 
 
 S,66i 
 
 4,634 
 
 10,295 
 
 12,143 
 
 22,438 
 
 So-59 
 
 3.263 
 
 3.004 
 
 6,267 
 
 7.144 
 
 13,411 
 
 60-79 
 
 2,865 
 
 2,238 
 
 5,103 
 
 5,009 
 
 10,112 
 
 80- 
 
 214 
 
 136 
 
 350 
 
 285 
 
 635 
 
 Unknown. 
 
 2 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 
 7 
 
 19 
 
 Total 
 
 9,9004 
 
 27,490 
 
 126,494 
 
 59688 
 
 186,182 
 
 Females. 
 
 Under i 
 
 1-4 
 
 5-9 
 
 10-13 
 
 14-19 
 
 20-29 
 
 3039 
 40-49 
 
 50-S9 
 60-79 
 
 80- 
 Unknown, 
 
 Total 
 
 3,564 
 
 41 
 
 3.605 
 
 25 
 
 3.630 
 
 12,893 
 
 463 
 
 13.356 
 
 545 
 
 13,901 
 
 14,955 
 
 1,024 
 
 15,979 
 
 1.726 
 
 17.70s 
 
 11,447 
 
 1,017 
 
 12,464 
 
 1. 351 
 
 13,815 
 
 14,227 
 
 2.275 
 
 16 502 
 
 4,968 
 
 21,470 
 
 20,057 
 
 6,671 
 
 26,728 
 
 19,579 
 
 46,307 
 
 10,857 
 
 6,270 
 
 17,127 
 
 16358 
 
 33.485 
 
 5.972 
 
 4,994 
 
 10,966 
 
 12,949 
 
 23.915 
 
 3.474 
 
 3,207 
 
 6,681 
 
 8.789 
 
 15.470 
 
 3.575 
 
 2,901 
 
 6,476 
 
 6.795 
 
 13.271 
 
 448 
 
 256 
 
 704 
 
 514 
 
 1,218 
 
 8 
 
 8 
 
 16 
 
 8 
 
 24 
 
 101,469 
 
 29,127 
 
 130,600 
 
 73.607 
 
 204,211 
 
 * This table is compiled from figures specially furnished by the Massachusetts 
 Bureau of Statistics of Labor. Like the preceding table its significance would 
 be much increased by plotting the figures on a co-ordinate chart.
 
 IX. 
 
 THE BIOGRAPHY OF A RIVER AND 
 HARBOR BILL. 
 
 To write a complete and accurate history of an 
 important Act of Congress would be to throw an 
 illumination upon our national legislation, nation- 
 al government, and national character. For every 
 important statute is the resultant of all the so- 
 cial, political, and economic forces at work in the 
 country. Still more, the process of legislation, if 
 we could follow it at every stage, would be seen 
 to explain some of the most obscure and most in- 
 teresting phases in the life of the nation. But 
 who is to disentangle the threads ? Who can dis- 
 cover the undercurrents of influence, of individuals, 
 of corporations, of municipalities, of States, of 
 private counsellors, of voluntary advocates, of paid 
 lobbyists ? who is to assign the rightful equivalent 
 to each member of the legislative body, to the 
 President, to his eight official advisers, to the 
 Speaker of the House of Representatives, to each 
 
 (206)
 
 IRlver an? IF^arbcr JBdl. 207 
 
 of the eighty-eight Senators and three hundred 
 and fifty-six Representatives ? Above all, who is 
 to measure the effect of tradition, precedent, and 
 forms of organization ? We have a careful and 
 reasonably exact record of words spoken and action 
 taken on the floors of Congress ; but who will tell 
 us what goes on in committee, or in private con- 
 ference, or in the lobby ? who knows the mo- 
 tives which cause votes to combine and separate ? 
 
 This essay is, therefore, not a history of the 
 River and Harbor Bill of 1887. It is an attempt 
 to consider it as one might study the life of a 
 rather obscure public man; the outward events are 
 few and uninteresting ; but at every stage we come 
 in contact with persons and organisms which the 
 bill helps us to explain. The dullest man may 
 meet and observe kings ; the dreariest act for in- 
 ternal improvements illustrates at the same time 
 the manner of legislating in Congress, and the way 
 in which the public funds are spent by the rep- 
 resentatives of the sixty-four million American 
 sovereigns. 
 
 There is a reason why the annual River and 
 Harbor Bill especially rewards the student. It is 
 a sort of comet in the congressional planetary 
 system. Other appropriation bills appear each 
 year in about the same form, pass through the 
 same sort of debate, and are approved as the same 
 matter of course. The River and Harbor bill has 
 an orbit of its own ; no man is able to predict its
 
 2o8 }E60as6 on ©ovcvnmcnt. 
 
 splendor or the time of its appearance. It dashes 
 into Congress, and is attracted hither and thither; 
 and to the last moment it is uncertain whether it 
 will escape on its parabolic path, or collide with a 
 disagreement of the Houses or an executive veto. 
 For this erratic behavior there are two causes : the 
 bill is made up by a special machinery ; and the bill 
 is a luxury. Members of Congress must have their 
 salary and mileage ; and pensioners and Presidents 
 must be paid ; but rivers will flow and tides rise 
 whether the appropriation passes or fails. The 
 enemies of the bill are therefore sure to attack it, 
 without any fear of crippling the government, and 
 a counter-effort is made to introduce it in a form 
 as inoffensive as possible. 
 
 Before the bill is finally submitted to Congress 
 it passes through four stages of preparation : local 
 engineers survey and estimate; the chief of 
 engineers estimates ; the Secretary of War esti- 
 mates ; and the committee considers. The pre- 
 liminary survey must have been authorized by a 
 previous River and Harbor Act, and is not per- 
 mitted until the local engineer has reported that 
 the improvement will be, of public necessity, and 
 that the place is worthy of improvement. In 
 point of fact, a survey is rarely refused. The local 
 engineer then submits a plan and estimates. The 
 chief of engineers may alter the plan and pare down 
 the estimate. 
 
 The official life of our bill began October 28,
 
 IRivcr anC> Uiaibor JCill. 209 
 
 1886, when the chief of engineers submitted his re- 
 port, and set down as sums which might profitably 
 be spent in the fiscal year 1887-88, items footing 
 to about $30,000,000. The Secretary of War, in 
 his report, November 30, 1886, pared down, in his 
 turn, and estimated " for improving rivers and 
 harbors, $10,175,870." Save in exceptional cases, 
 the War Department considers itself the agent of 
 Congress in ascertaining the practicability of im- 
 provements, and in forming engineering plans ; 
 and makes no suggestions as to the policy of in- 
 ternal improvements, or of particular expenditures. 
 The Egyptians named not the name of Osiris, 
 and it is with some trepidation that a layman 
 mentions the Standing Committee on Rivers and 
 Harbors in the House of Representatives — more 
 particularly since it has seen fit to recommend a 
 survey of the Charles River from Boston to 
 Watertown, Mass. There is a mystery hover- 
 ing over the operations of standing committees 
 of Congress, a mystery only partially removed 
 by Professor Woodrow Wilson in his suggestive 
 book on Congressional Government. The com- 
 mittee which has just been mentioned is one of 
 the few House committees besides the Commit- 
 tee on Appropriations, which has the power of 
 reporting general appropriation bills. Up to 
 March, 1883, the annual River and Harbor Bill 
 was prepared by the Committee on Commerce. 
 In several successive Congresses it was attempted 
 14
 
 2IO Bssa^e en ©overnmcnt. 
 
 to divide that committee, which the House was 
 pleased to think overburdened. In 1882 the 
 chairman, Mr. Reagan, forced through the House 
 the worst River and Harbor Bill that has ever 
 been passed. In December, 1883, Congress adopt- 
 ed a new rule, placing under the control of a new 
 committee all measures relating to rivers and har- 
 bors. In this case the immense power of the 
 Speaker, through his appointment of committees, 
 was well exercised. Mr. Willis, of Kentucky, the 
 chairman of the River and Harbor Committee, 
 which framed the bill of 1887, showed himself a 
 candid, industrious, fair, and honest man. That 
 two of his four bills failed is due rather to amend- 
 ments forced upon him than to measures which 
 he advocated. 
 
 It is no sinecure to sit as one of the fifteen 
 members of the committee. In the first place, to 
 that committee are referred all petitions and 
 memorials and all individual bills bearing on in- 
 ternal improvements. Of the bills, vast numbers 
 were formerly introduced ; at present, members 
 prefer to go before the committee in person, and 
 the memorials are in most cases sent direct. Next 
 come the voluminous estimates of the chief of 
 engineers and his subordinates, covering thousands 
 of pages ; the committee then attempt to digest 
 the statistics of each river and port seeking an ap- 
 propriation. The Secretary of War is called upon 
 for information. Mr. Willis further adopted the
 
 IRivci- aiiD H^arboi .1Bi[l. 211 
 
 plan of asking all the members of both Houses to 
 appear before the committee, where each was at 
 liberty to present the needs of his district or State ; 
 and nine-tenths of them came forward. In ad- 
 dition, there were received and heard delegations 
 from leading cities and from chambers of com- 
 merce — all upon a similar errand. 
 
 " The horse leech hath two daughters," said 
 Solomon, " crying, give ! give ! " and the River and 
 Harbor Committee never suffers for want of in- 
 formation in favor of appropriations. Unfortu- 
 nately, though every job is likely to have an un- 
 tiring advocate, the public interest has only such 
 hard-worked and preoccupied members as look out- 
 side their own districts ; there are a dozen pleas 
 for expenditure, against one protest at extrava- 
 gance. There is no organized River and Harbor 
 lobby, for almost every Congressman is an inter- 
 ested party in some clause of the bill. By peti- 
 tions, bills, reports, and arguments informed, the 
 committee begins to frame its bill. At once there 
 springs up an ever-recurring difficulty: the bill 
 must be carried ; and the number of members w^ho 
 believe in a River and Harbor bill, as in itself 
 meritorious, is not sufficient to pass it." There is 
 no such proof of the national importance of a bill 
 as an item within it for one's own district. On 
 the other hand, the committee must select : the 
 general distrust of harbor legislation, the numer- 
 * See note at the end of the Essay.
 
 212 Bsea^s on (Bovcinmcnt. 
 
 ous vetoes, and the fate of members who persist- 
 ed in voting for the Act of 1 882, all suggest caution. 
 The problem before the committee is always: 
 How much may we put in without offending the 
 newspapers ? How much may we leave out with- 
 out losing votes ? The estimates of the engineers 
 are far greater than the sensitive press will accept, 
 and the committee has a rough rule of thumb by 
 which it agrees to appropriate a certain proportion 
 of these estimates. In 1887 the percentage was 
 twenty-five ; thus the amount of the bill was fixed 
 at $7,500,000. We must not suppose that each 
 work receives something ; some of the places sug- 
 gested are too plainly unworthy ; others require 
 too great an expenditure; the committee usually 
 throws out a sixth or an eighth of the items in the 
 engineer's report. Furthermore, the committee 
 does not scruple to insert items never before con- 
 sidered. In this manner, in the bill of 1884 was 
 included the first appropriation for the Sandy Bay 
 Harbor of Refuge at Cape Ann, which is likely to 
 cost $10,000,000, and on which there had never 
 been an estimate. 
 
 On January 8, 1887, when all the items had been 
 squeezed or expanded till, taken together, they 
 filled up the measure of the committee's purpose, 
 the committee reported its bill to the House. The 
 date shows a distinct advance over the previous 
 regime. Four years earlier Mr. Reagan did not 
 report his bill till February 20, eleven days be-
 
 TRivcr aiiD Ibavbor mil 213 
 
 fore the end of the session. In addition, Mr. Wil- 
 lis's accompanying report contained a courageous 
 analysis of the bill. It is not to be presumed 
 that the bill had the complete approval of any 
 member of the committee : it was simply the best 
 they could offer with any fair hope of its pass- 
 ing. 
 
 The bantling had now a name. It was " H. R. 
 10419," and was described as 
 
 "A BILL 
 
 making appropriations for the construction, repair, 
 and preservation of certain public works on rivers 
 and harbors, and for other purposes." 
 
 The public Avorks were two hundred and ninety 
 in number, and required a sum of $7,430,000 ; the 
 " other purposes " refer to some clauses, directing 
 the manner in which the work should be carried 
 on. 
 
 It was a world full of crafty enemies upon which 
 H. R. 10419 opened its eyes. No sooner was it 
 reported to the House of Representatives than a 
 member gave notice that " all points of order are 
 reserved on that bill," and when, after going 
 through the usual recommittal, it was a second time 
 reported on January 11, there was heard the same 
 formula, so suggestive of parliamentary stilettos. 
 
 An appropriation bill is one of the few things 
 that the House debates thoroughly. The River
 
 214 JEssags on ©ovecnment. 
 
 and Harbor Bill is peculiarly open to attack both 
 in principle and detail. In 1886 each House gave 
 up ten sessions to that one bill — a total of not 
 less than sixty hours of debate. There are at least 
 five difTerent parties to the discussion, each of 
 which has a peculiar interest, and forwards it in a 
 peculiar way. The first is made up of chairmen 
 of other committees, who wish to bring forward 
 their own measures, instead of the River and 
 Harbor Bill ; the second includes all the members 
 with speeches, who wish unlimited general debate ; 
 next come the men with amendments, who wish 
 only an opportunity to insert their item, and as- 
 sure the House it will take but a moment; the 
 fourth class is determined to kill the bill by fili- 
 bustering. Finally, we have the Chairman of the 
 Committee on Rivers and Harbors ; to him other 
 chairmen are Paynim knights, to be unhorsed at 
 the first onset ; general debate is a disagreeable 
 but inevitable waste of time, since speech-making 
 convinces nobody ; amendment means the insertion 
 of jobs, the excision of necessary items, and the 
 disturbance of the nice adjustment of interests 
 perfected by the committee ; as for filibusters, 
 every right-minded chairman looks upon them as 
 piratical enemies of the human race, to be driven 
 from the seas by force, or, if necessary, to be taken 
 with guile. It is well known that the first morn- 
 ing hour of each congressional sitting is given up 
 to miscellaneous business ; and the second usually
 
 IRivev anO IFjaibor JBill. 215 
 
 to the call of committees for bills. Most of the 
 time remaining after these deductions on each of 
 four days, January 15, 22, 24, and 26, was devoted 
 by the House to debate on the River and Harbor 
 Bill ; and, contrary to the general usage, it passed 
 precisely as reported. 
 
 The first struggle was with the Chairman of the 
 Agricultural Committee, who, on three of the 
 four days, vainly strove to induce the House to 
 take up one of his bills instead of H. R. 10419. 
 On each day the House went into " Committee 
 of the Whole on the State of the Union, to con- 
 sider the bill making appropriations, etc." It is in 
 Committee of the Whole that revenue bills are per- 
 fected, and that most of the parliamentary spar- 
 ring takes place. Its more simple rules and more 
 informal practice make it a medium of real debate ; 
 here amendments may be offered ; an admirable 
 rule permits five-minute speeches on each amend- 
 ment, and there is no previous question. The 
 chairman of the committee in charge of the bill 
 may and frequently does find means to cut off 
 debate ; but Mr. Willis showed himself willing to 
 permit discussion, criticism, and amendment. It 
 is true that the first gun in the battle was his mo- 
 tion that general debate be limited to ten minutes; 
 but he readily consented to three hours, to be 
 divided between the friends and opponents of the 
 bill as it stood. 
 
 In attempting to go into committee on the
 
 2i6 Bssags on (Bovcniment. 
 
 second day, the filibusters began their tedious 
 tactics, which were kept up during a good part of 
 three sittings. Now it was that most exasperating 
 device, the cry of " no quorum " on every vote ; by 
 themselves abstaining from voting, the opponents 
 of any measure may prevent any amendments or 
 action, unless the friends of the bill can keep within 
 call a majority of all the members of the House. 
 Now it was a motion to adjourn ; now it was the 
 tedious call of the yeas and nays ; now it was a 
 meaningless amendment ; now it was a frivolous 
 point of order. The rules of the House are, on the 
 whole, very lenient to a minority. Two men, 
 backed by about twenty votes, caused the bill to 
 stand still for two days. In vain did Chairman 
 Willis remind them that he had not used his 
 power to pass the bill under suspension of the 
 rules, because he preferred fair debate. 
 
 Remonstrance failing, he proceeded to fight 
 them in their own fashion. On January 24, 
 Anderson, of Kansas, had mustered fourteen votes 
 on an amendment which had several times been 
 proposed, and, indeed, was once inserted by the 
 House in a river and harbor bill, viz. : that the 
 appropriation should be made in a lump sum, to 
 be expended at the discretion of the Secretary of 
 War, On the 26th, before a single detail had 
 been discussed, a friend of the bill submitted an 
 amendment in almost precisely the same terms. 
 The other side, though apparently puzzled, feared
 
 IRiver anD IFjarbor Jfilll. 217 
 
 the gift-bearing Greeks, and opposed the motion 
 on the ground that it was an " abdication of its 
 functions" by the House; for the items would 
 undoubtedly be re-inserted by the Senate. Never- 
 theless the amendment was carried, and thus took 
 the place of the original bill. There were no 
 longer any items to discuss ; the Committee of 
 the Whole therefore rose, and the bill was declared 
 completed, and thus incapable of further amend- 
 ment. Mr. Willis next moved the previous ques- 
 tion. At this stage the opponents of the bill seem 
 to have seen the trap, and interposed points of 
 order. It was too late ; instantly the friends of 
 the bill whipped about, and voted in the House 
 against the substitute which they had just ac- 
 cepted in committee. The effect was to leave the 
 bill precisely where it stood when reported Janu- 
 ary 9, but with this important difference: under 
 the rules of the House it could no further be dis- 
 cussed or amended. The House had substituted 
 the amendment for the bill, and the bill for the 
 amendment ; but the process of substitution could 
 no further go. If the trick seem unfair, it must be 
 remembered that the House had spent ten hours 
 upon the bill, of which time the filibusters had con- 
 sumed at least one-half. Next day, January 27, the 
 bill was quietly passed by a vote of 154 to 95. 
 
 As the Senate carries on debate more carefully 
 than the House, and as it guards jealously its pre- 
 rogative of altering and increasing House appro-
 
 2i8 Essass on Government. 
 
 priations, H. R. 10419 was now to lose its form. 
 Sent to the Committee on Commerce on January 
 28, it was reported back February 17, but how 
 changed ! It was technically one amendment, but 
 practically a new bill. Nearly every item had 
 been raised, and many new ones added ; the sum 
 total was nearly $10,300,000, instead of the orig- 
 inal $7,500,000. No item thus reported was struck 
 out by the Senate during debate : on the contrary, 
 amendments offered by individuals, and not by the 
 Committee, added $385,000 to the total. A few 
 amendments were, however, ruled out of order 
 because they proposed an appropriation for work 
 on which there was no estimate ; or because they 
 were "legislation," or, to use a more familiar 
 term, were " riders." The characteristic of the 
 Senate proceedings was, as it usually is, the in- 
 crease of appropriations, and the introduction of 
 important works not included in the House bill. 
 Thus the Mississippi received $1,500,000, as against 
 $1,250,000 in the House bill ; $50,000 was inserted 
 for the survey of the Hennepin Canal ; and $150,- 
 000 and $350,000 respectively for the Green and 
 Barren, and Portage Lake improvements. The 
 Senate passed the bill as amended, February 21, 
 and knowing by long experience that the House 
 would not concur, conferees were immediately 
 appointed. The Senate had spent seven hours 
 and a half on the bill, and had added $3,200,000 
 to the expenditures which it proposed.
 
 TRivcv aiiD Ibarbor JBill. 219 
 
 As there was tecliniciilly but one amendment to 
 its original bill, the House was not bound to con- 
 sider each item separately ; and when the Senate 
 bill appeared in the House, February 23, it was 
 hastily acted on by the Committee on Rivers and 
 Harbors ; and they recommended " non-concur- 
 rence." On February 26, when but five debating 
 days remained, Mr. Willis moved to suspend the 
 rules, to non-concur, and to appoint conferees. The 
 filibusters were able only to obtain the reading of 
 the bill. Thirty minutes' debate was allowed un- 
 der the rules. It was perfectly clear that the con- 
 ference was the only means now by which any bill 
 could be carried. The necessary two-thirds vote 
 was obtained, and the conference authorized : as is 
 usual in such cases, the chairman and one of the 
 leading members of the Committee on Rivers and 
 Harbors were two of the three House conferees. 
 
 American politics abound in ingenious labor- 
 saving devices, by which the will of a few men 
 replaces the will of a majority. We have the 
 nominating caucus, the legislative caucus, the 
 standing committee system, and the conference 
 committees. But while a name may be unex- 
 pectedly rubbed out of the slate of the nominating 
 caucus, the conference report is seldom amended ; 
 while the legislative caucus cannot always prevent 
 an appeal to the public from dissatisfied members, 
 the conference committee permits no minority 
 reports ; the most powerful standing committee
 
 220 Bssa^s on (Bovernment. 
 
 may see its carefully prepared bill shattered by 
 amendments in conference, but the conference 
 committee frames a bill which has never been con- 
 sidered in either House, and forces it through 
 unaltered. To crown the powers of this extraor- 
 dinary body, the mightiest chairman on the floor 
 may be swept off his legs when a conference com- 
 mittee claims its unrestrained privilege of present- 
 ing its report. 
 
 In theory the conference committee on any sub- 
 ject is empowered to consider only matters in dis- 
 agreement between the Houses, and to arrive at 
 some middle way in each. In practice it often 
 frames practically a new bill, containing a new dis- 
 tribution of appropriations, and inserting some 
 items never discussed in either House. In this 
 way the Tariff Act of 1883 was reported, and it is 
 a very startling fact that a large proportion of the 
 important acts of Congress are framed by these 
 special joint, shifting committees of six men each, 
 sitting in unreported conclave. It would be inter- 
 esting to know what "went on between the 26th 
 and 28th of February over H. R. 10419, but it is 
 possible to judge only by the result ; the House bill 
 called for $7,500,000; the Senate bill called for 
 $10,500,000; the conference report called for 
 $9,913,000. The Hennepin Canal and purchase 
 of the Green River and Portage Lake improve- 
 ments were retained, and at least one new item 
 had crept in.
 
 IRlvcr an^ 1[3arbov 36111. 221 
 
 Like many other tyrants, the conference com- 
 mittee registers its will through the forms of free 
 government. When, on February 28, the report 
 was submitted for the action of the House, there 
 was but one way in which it could exercise any 
 further control over the bill ; it might reject the 
 report and simply order another conference. Four 
 successive conference committees had been neces- 
 sary to arrange the previous River and Harbor Bill 
 of 1886. The time was too short for such delay ; the 
 only remaining check was to insist that the report 
 should be comprehensible, and that it should be read. 
 It is very dif^cult to secure either of these simple 
 safeguards. The report on the bill of 188 1, carry- 
 ing $1 1,000,000, set forth only that the Senate had 
 receded from amendments numbered so and so, 
 and that the House had receded from its disagree- 
 ments to amendments numbered so and so. Not- 
 withstanding the fact that a rule of the House re- 
 quired with each conference report " a detailed 
 statement sufficiently explicit to inform the House 
 what effect . . . such amendments . . . 
 will have upon the measure to which they relate," 
 Chairman Reagan had at that time submitted a 
 report of nine and one-half lines, from which no 
 information could be had as to one single item ; 
 and the bill was passed in fifteen minutes, under 
 the previous question. Chairman Willis, on the 
 contrary, made it his principle to present a per- 
 fectly clear analysis of the changes made by the
 
 222 Bssags on Government. 
 
 committee. But the clearer the conference reports 
 on appropriation bills, the plainer is the fact that 
 the House conferees habitually yield to the Sen- 
 ate; in this case only one-fourth of the Senate 
 increase had been struck out. So far as the House 
 of Representatives is concerned, conferences are 
 what plebiscites in France have been defined to be 
 — " a device for voting yes." The Chairman of 
 the River and Harbor Committee, trying to please 
 delegations and members in his committee, is one 
 individual: in the House, defending his bill, he is 
 another ; in conference, facing the danger of fail- 
 ure, he is another ; and the three individuals have 
 different opinions as to what constitutes a proper 
 bill. It is impossible for any chairman to see his 
 bill finally fail for want of a few concessions ; and 
 he has usually left room for concessions by cutting 
 his original bill down below what he expects to 
 see appropriated. At any rate, the House voted 
 to " consider " the report. There was only a feeble 
 flickering of filibustering ; at this stage, " consider- 
 ation " meant only that the previous question 
 should be ordered. It was done. The final vote 
 was now to be taken, and both sides mustered 
 their retainers. By a vote of 178 to 89 the House 
 agreed to the report of the conference committee. 
 As the rules were suspended, the amended bill was 
 thus passed. 
 
 The day following, March i, the Senate agreed 
 to the report of its conferees without a division ;
 
 IRivci- anC» lljaibor JBill. 223 
 
 the only objection came from a senator who 
 wished to see the bill in print. Next day, March 
 2, it was duly announced that the Speaker of the 
 House had signed the bill, and that the Senate 
 Committee on Enrolled Bills had found it cor- 
 rect. 
 
 Here let us stop a moment to describe the ap- 
 pearance and character of the bill of which we have 
 so long followed the fortunes. First comes the 
 enacting clause; the second paragraph makes three 
 hundred and fifteen appropriations for as many 
 objects ; the third clause regulates the manner of 
 doing the work ; at the end is a general appropria- 
 tion for eighty specified surveys. The whole bill 
 is hedged about with provisos, the most impor- 
 tant of which are the stipulation for the expendi- 
 ture of all sums under the direction of the Secre- 
 tary of War, and the continuance of a special 
 commission over the Mississippi River improve- 
 ments. In many cases the appropriation is sub- 
 divided, as in the following example : 
 
 " Improving Newtown Creek and bay, New 
 York : continuing improvement, $10,000 ; of which 
 $2,500 is to be expended on west branch, between 
 Maspeth Avenue and Dual Bridge, at Grand 
 Street and Metropolitan Avenue ; $2,500 to be ex- 
 pended on main branch, between easterly Grand 
 Street bridge and Metropolitan Avenue ; and bal- 
 ance on lower end, from Maspeth Avenue to the 
 mouth of the creek,"
 
 224 iBsenv.B on (Bovcrnmcnt. 
 
 An analysis of the bill shows the objects for 
 which appropriations are made to be as follows : 
 109 harbors, 8 breakwaters, 3 harbors of refuge, 4 
 ice harbors, 13 channels, 162 rivers, 6 removals of 
 obstructions, 2 purchases of improvements, 80 sur- 
 veys, 8 miscellaneous. In forty-four instances ap- 
 propriations are for more than one object. The 
 total appropriation, as divided among 439 differ- 
 ent works, counts up to $9,913,800. 
 
 After seventy-one years of improvement of 
 water-ways by the Government it is too late to ask 
 whether it is constitutional, or even v/hether it is 
 expedient, to appropriate money from the national 
 treasury for works of national benefit. The moral 
 character of H. R. 104 19 must be determined by 
 inquiring whether this particular bill was reason- 
 able in amount ; whether the improvements for 
 which it provided were likely to be of general 
 benefit ; whether they were all useful to any one ; 
 and whether the methods of administration were 
 wise. 
 
 In answer to the first question it must be said 
 that there has been a large increase of such ex- 
 penditures since 1822; but it has not in propor- 
 tion gone beyond the increase of the general ex- 
 penses of the Government; and the bill for 1887 
 is by no means excessive, compared with those of 
 the nine years previous and of the five years since. 
 
 Was the bill of general utility ? It not, it was 
 from no lack of effort to make it cover the whole
 
 mvcx anO -ffjaibor Sill. 225 
 
 area of the United States. It is a little hard to 
 judge how useful the greater number of works 
 may be ; for some of the names are not always 
 familiar, and several of the places mentioned in 
 the bill modestly avoid the publicity of a gazet- 
 teer. Of course, every New Englander knows 
 precisely the location of the " western channel of 
 Lynn Harbor, leading to the Point of Pines," and 
 sees the national necessity for its receiving $1,000. 
 But why should Hyannis Harbor get $5,000, 
 Aransas Pass $60,000, Wappoo Cut $2,500, and 
 Upper Willamette River $7,500? They all seem 
 of equal importance to the great commerce of the 
 United States. Why should Duck Creek, Dela- 
 ware, have $3,000, and Mispillion Creek, in the 
 same State, notwithstanding a larger name, be put 
 off with $2,000 ? Why should Currituck Sound, 
 Coanjok Bay, and North River Bar, North Caro- 
 lina, receive conjointly only as much as Content- 
 nia Creek, near by ? Is it fair that money should 
 be appropriated for the Big Sulphur, the Yalla- 
 busha, the Pamunkey, the Chefuncte River, and 
 Bogue Phalia, while "the silvery Charles" is put 
 off with a pitiful survey ? What power other 
 than a Modern Language Association can ever 
 hope to " improve " the Rivers Skagit, Steilaqua- 
 mish, Nootsack, Snoquomish, and Snoqualmie ? 
 
 There is other than geographic evidence that 
 some of the items in the bills might well be 
 omitted. In January, 1883, the Secretary of War 
 15
 
 226 Bssags on Government. 
 
 made a report in which he designated in the pre- 
 vious River and Harbor Bill ninety-two items, 
 carrying $862,500, as not of general benefit. His 
 items are instructive : in one port the annual 
 revenue collected was $23.25 ; in another there 
 was no commerce whatever; in another the real 
 object of the appropriation was to provide hatch- 
 ing grounds for the Fish Commissioners. Some 
 rivers were incapable of permanent improvement ; 
 in others the people had themselves obstructed the 
 stream. One creek lay wholly within the limits 
 of the city of Philadelphia, was an open sewer, 
 and was barred by permanent bridges ; all the water 
 of another could, when examined, pass through a 
 twelve-inch drain ; and in another place a quarter 
 of a million dollars had been appropriated, prac- 
 tically to protect land from the effects of hydraulic 
 mining. Thirty-one of the items thus reprehended 
 reappeared in the bill of 1887; and it would be 
 impossible to say how many new ones were of the 
 same sort. The great rivers and harbors in the 
 bill of 1887, the improvement of which is at once 
 seen to be national, take up $5,570,000; the re- 
 maining $4,200,000 was not likely to benefit any- 
 one outside the limits of the State within which 
 it was spent. 
 
 In the present low state of public sentiment as 
 to national expenditures, one might perhaps admit 
 appropriations which do benefit some commerce, 
 however local. But our bill, like most of its pre-
 
 IRircr anO -ff^aibor JBill. 227 
 
 decessors, contained provisions for the expenditure 
 of money which could benefit only the owner of 
 the water-front, or the contractor, or the laborer. 
 There is an item in H. R. 104 19 for " the protec- 
 tion of the Illinois shore opposite the mouth of 
 the Missouri River." There is an appropria- 
 tion of $300,000 for the Missouri, purposely dis- 
 tributed among points where there are railroad 
 bridges; and the understanding was that it should 
 be used to protect from wash the approaches to 
 those bridges. Indeed, why should money be 
 spent upon the channel of the Missouri ? Sena- 
 tor Vest of Missouri frankly stated that from St- 
 Louis to St. Joseph there were but three steamers 
 plying ; and another member of Congress stated 
 that the draw in one of the Missouri bridges had 
 been opened but once in a year. Some of the ap- 
 propriations have left no other trace than the 
 wages and profits of people within the district. 
 
 Here is a specific case, no worse in principle than 
 a hundred others. Years ago the United States 
 Government granted very valuable lands to aid in 
 the construction of a canal connecting the Fox and 
 Wisconsin Rivers. Having thus given the water- 
 way a value, it then agreed to pay $145,000 in 
 cash for the canal, leaving, however, to the origi- 
 nal owners the right to the water-power. It then 
 proceeded to spend upward of $2,000,000 on the 
 improvement of that water-way. In 1888, ac- 
 cording to a gentleman living on the line of the
 
 228 Bssafis on ©overnmeut. 
 
 canal, there was one small steamer making regular 
 trips, and the only practical value of the improve- 
 ment was that the Government kept up the water- 
 power for private parties, who had recently sold it 
 to other private parties for $3,000,000. For im- 
 provements wholly within the State, Florida re- 
 ceived, in the bill of 1881, for each $1,000 of 
 valuation, $7.16; Oregon, $4.09; New York, 21 
 cents; Pennsylvania, 10 cents; and Iowa, i cent. 
 It is not too much to say that, under the bill of 
 1887, $2,000,000 would have been in the end 
 absolutely wasted, and $2,000,000 more would 
 have been of local benefit only. 
 
 There remains one question. Is the money 
 spent upon undoubted national improvements 
 usually wisely spent ? Such is the intention of 
 Coneress, but that intention is not effected. The 
 first great defect of the system is, that too many 
 v/orks are undertaken at a time; every man wishes 
 to see the sea-wall built over against his own 
 house. Of the four hundred and thirty-nine 
 works contemplated by H. R. 10419, in only 
 eight cases is the appropriation sufficient to com- 
 plete the work ; the yearly dole is necessary in 
 order to hold the yearly vote ; whatever the esti- 
 mate of the engineers, the application of the 
 twenty-five per cent, rule by the committee 
 makes it nearly impossible to secure the finishing 
 appropriation for any work. Pressing works are 
 kept incomplete, or swept away because half fin-
 
 IRlver anD Ibarbor mil 229 
 
 ished. Yet the Government is constantly enter- 
 ing upon new and costly enterprises. The en- 
 gineer reports no summary of the probable expen- 
 diture upon works now in progress; it can hardly 
 be less than $200,000,000. Every year new surveys 
 are introduced, almost without opposition ; they 
 become the basis of new estimates and new ap- 
 propriations. 
 
 The natural effect of indiscriminate expenditure 
 is to discourage private enterprises. The Govern- 
 ment not only undertakes works for which private 
 capital might be secured, but it has entered upon 
 the purchase of existing canals and river improve- 
 ments. The administration of the river and har- 
 bor improvements is honest — the engineers, for the 
 most part army officers, capable ; but the whole 
 system is crippled by the constant interference of 
 Congress. If that body choose to begin a Henne- 
 pin Canal, involving twenty to thirty million dol- 
 lars, the War Department has no choice but to 
 carry it out. A certain degree of discretion the 
 Secretary does exercise ; he withholds money from 
 the grosser jobs ; he accumulates balances unex- 
 pended, against the year when the bill may fail; 
 he insists on complete and comprehensive plans 
 before great works are undertaken ; but he is sub- 
 ject to calls for information from either House, 
 and to attacks to which he cannot reply. A sin- 
 gle sentence from one of these Congressional 
 amenities is an illustration of what a just public
 
 23<^ Bssass on (Bovernment. 
 
 officer may suffer for doing his duty. It appears 
 that the Secretary of War had approved of the 
 removal of an engineer whom the Oregon people 
 liked, but in whom the department lacked confi- 
 dence. A senator from Oregon therefore said : 
 " Mr. President, I desire at this time to call the 
 attention of the Senate and the country, and es- 
 pecially of the people of the Pacific Northwest, 
 who are vitally interested in the speedy opening up 
 of the Columbia River to free and unobstructed 
 navigation, and who are, by reason of their peculiar 
 situation as to transportation facilities, in no humor 
 to be trifled with by questionable arbitrary action 
 or non-action upon the part of executive officers, 
 civil or military, some of the latter of whom have 
 grown in a measure officially haughty, arbitrary, 
 and to a degree intolerant, not to say insolent, by 
 reason of having been for years protected in desir- 
 able assignments in Washington, mainly, as many 
 are, through the baneful instrumentality of social 
 influence rather than real merit, which in this 
 great capital too often makes and unmakes men — 
 to the manner in which, during the fall of 1886, 
 the will of Congress was set aside, and the execu- 
 tion of its act in appropriating $187,500 for the 
 continuance of work on the canal and locks at the 
 Cascades of the Columbia suspended, unjustifiably, 
 to the great detriment of the people's interest, and 
 to fix, if we can from the record, the just respon- 
 sibility for this high-handed, unjustifiable, and
 
 IRiver anO •ff3avbor 3Bm. 231 
 
 wholly illegal act upon the official or ofificials 
 justly chargeable therewith," 
 
 The administrative commissions, particularly 
 those in charge of the Mississippi and Missouri 
 River improvements, fare no better, though chiefly 
 made up of expert engineers. Their plans are 
 rejected, their estimates cut down, their members 
 assailed. The bill of 1887 took pains to ignore 
 the Missouri River Commission. In fact, all 
 commissions and all Cabinet officers are consid- 
 ered servants of Congress. 
 
 The Secretary of War is at least not appointed 
 by or removable by Congress ; he serves the third 
 member of the legislative body. We left H. R. 
 10419 waiting for the President's signature; it 
 waits still. It reached President Cleveland on the 
 night before adjournment, together with a hundred 
 and five other bills, the whole carrying seventy-five 
 million dollars of appropriations. In the absence of 
 any power to veto items in appropriation bills, a 
 power repeatedly suggested in Congress of late, 
 he exercised the one possible check on bills con- 
 taining a mixture of good and bad provisions, and 
 on bills which come in too late for examination. 
 In refusing to sign it, he followed the worthy ex- 
 ample of Jackson, Tj^ler, Polk, Pierce, and Arthur; 
 as Congress adjourned before ten days had elapsed, 
 it did not become a law. 
 
 Let us sum up the brief existence of H. R. 
 104 19 : it was prepared by a laborious committee,
 
 232 JEssags on (Bovcnunent. 
 
 and introduced by an honest chairman ; it con- 
 tained some provisions good and useful ; and some 
 needless, wasteful, and badly applied. There was 
 opportunity for fair debate in the House. The 
 Senate loaded it with amendments, some of them 
 iniquitous ; and the House conferees yielded to 
 them. It was passed because a majority of the 
 members of both Houses desired specific appro- 
 priations, which could not be obtained without 
 voting the whole bill. It failed because, while 
 containing much for the public good, it could not, 
 without detailed examinations, commend itself 
 to a man who had no personal interest in- its 
 success.* 
 
 * This essay was originally read before the American Historical 
 Association and the American Economic Association, in joint ses- 
 sion, at Sanders Theatre, Harvard University, June 24, 1887. It 
 drew from Senator George F. Hoar, of Massachusetts, several 
 letters of remonstrance ; and the author has made some clianges 
 in the previous text, to correct errors of statement. Two army 
 officers have also assured the author that in their experience the 
 waste and misapplication of River and Harbor appropriations was 
 very small, and Mr. E. R. Johnson, in an article on River and Har- 
 bor Bills (Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social 
 Science, II. 782-812), has joined issue with the general trend of the 
 above essay. On the other hand, members of Congress and other 
 persons experienced in Congressional life, and persons who use the 
 improvements, assert that there is great waste, and that no one 
 acquainted with the facts supposes that the money appropriated for 
 many large items of the River and Harbor Bill is of permanent 
 advantage to the nation, or even to the local users. A study of 
 the debates on any bill will convince the investigator at least that 
 a large number of members of Congress think that there are abso-
 
 X. 
 
 THE PUBLIC LAND POLICY OF THE 
 UNITED STATES. 
 
 In a letter of January 25, 1785, General George 
 Washington says of the frontier lands : " There 
 being no settlement or appropriations (except the 
 reservation in favor of the Virginia line of the 
 army), to my knowledge, in all the country north- 
 west of the Ohio." In 1883, according to an ofificial 
 publication of the Public Land Commissioner, there 
 were " purely arable lands remaining in the West 
 (estimated), five million acres," and " the move- 
 ment westward in search of free Government lands 
 must soon cease." No more timely and interesting 
 service could be performed than to consider the 
 probable effect of the impending change. For a 
 
 lutely needless items. Tlie trouble is not so much in "jobs," in 
 works for which contractors are paid without fulfilling the con- 
 tract ; the loss comes from putting money into levees which will 
 continue to crumble, into ports where there will never be entries, 
 and into river improvements where there can never be steamers. 
 It "makes work ;" it keeps on making work. 
 
 (233)
 
 234 Bssags on Government. 
 
 century, our political, economic, and social relations 
 have been sensibly affected by the nearness, acces- 
 sibility, and cheapness of Government land. The 
 population of the country has at last overtaken 
 our unsettled domain. Henceforth, our conditions 
 must be more like those of old and crowded coun- 
 tries. The nation has had, enjoyed, and spent, a 
 part of its heritage ; and can never recover it. 
 
 To speculate upon the future is, however, more 
 difficult and less profitable than to consider the 
 mistakes of the past. The present essay is an 
 attempt to show how it comes about that the 
 arable lands of the United States Government are 
 on the verge of exhaustion. Three questions will 
 be considered in turn — the acquisition of the lands, 
 their disposition, and the policy of the Govern- 
 ment. 
 
 The first table given in the Appendix to this 
 essay shows how the United States acquired its 
 lands. The Government of the United States 
 deals with territory in three different aspects. As 
 a general government, it exercises jurisdiction over 
 all the area included within the boundaries of the 
 United States ; as a government, it controls, or 
 provides for the control of, that part of the national 
 territory not organized into States ; as a land- 
 holder, it owns large tracts of lands within both 
 States and Territories. In the first column of the 
 table is presented a statement of accessions of ter- 
 ritory. The Congress of the United States went
 
 Ipublic XanD poUcv). 235 
 
 into the business of governing the nation, March 
 I, 1781, with 819,815 square miles of territory; 
 and this area was acknowledged to belong to the 
 United States by the treaty of 1783. The first 
 increase of territory came in 1803. The Interior 
 Department has committed itself, in its land and 
 census publications, to the statement that the 
 Louisiana purchase of that year included Oregon. 
 It is more in accordance with the historic truth to 
 say that our title to Oregon, south of the Co- 
 lumbia, dates from the Lewis and Clarke expedition 
 of 1805. The United States, therefore, secured 
 877,268 square miles in 1803, and 225,948 square 
 miles in 1805. In 1812, acts of Congress extended 
 our jurisdiction over about 9,740 square miles, 
 claimed by Spain in West Florida. The Florida 
 purchase of 1819 added 54,240 square miles. 
 Texas brought us 262,290 square miles in 1845. 
 Here, again, the Government publications conflict 
 with history. New Mexico was never a part of 
 Texas, and our title to that region rests upon the 
 same basis as that to California : it was a part of 
 the conquest of the Mexican War. In 1846, our 
 title to the 58,880 square miles north of the Co- 
 lumbia was acknowledged by England, In 1853, 
 we bought 47,330 square miles of Mexico. Finally, 
 in 1867, Russia ceded to us Alaska, with 577,390 
 square miles. To speak in round numbers, the 
 original area of the United States was doubled by 
 the Louisiana cession ; almost as much was added
 
 23^ BsBa^B on Government. 
 
 out of Mexican territory; and Oregon and Alaska 
 together make up the fourth quarter of the present 
 area. 
 
 The area embraced in the Territories has varied 
 ahnost from year to year. Between the years 1784 
 and 1802, cessions by the States had given to the 
 United States 405,482 square miles ; but, besides 
 two little tracts ceded by the United States to 
 Pennsylvania and Georgia, the creation of new 
 States, beginning with Tennessee in 1796, with- 
 drew large regions from the Territorial status. Each 
 annexation increased the Territories for the time 
 being : each admission of a State again reduced it. 
 At present, the Territories cover 919,992 square 
 miles, and the States 2,581,507, From 1820 to 
 1889, the area of the States taken together was 
 never very far from one-half of the total area of 
 the whole United States. At present the status 
 of the territory seems likely speedily to disappear, 
 except in Alaska and perhaps the Indian Territory. 
 ' That part of the land within our boundaries 
 which belongs to the nation has by the Land Of^ce 
 been named the Public Domain. The area is a 
 ratio having two variables : at intervals, it is in- 
 creased by cessions or annexations ; every year 
 since 1799, it has been diminished by sale or gift. 
 At the beginning of the existence of the Confed- 
 eration, in 1 781, the Government did not control 
 or own a single acre of land. Every part of the 
 United States was claimed by some State, and
 
 Ipublic ILanD ipolics. 237 
 
 there were regions covered by two or even three 
 claims. With all its defects and its imbecility, the 
 Confederation did one great service to the nation 
 and to posterity : it succeeded in prevailing upon a 
 number of the States to waive their claims in behalf 
 of the General Government. March i, 1784, the 
 cession of Virginia gave to the United States undis- 
 puted title to a large part of the region north of 
 the Ohio River. The previous cession of New 
 York, and the later cessions of Massachusetts and 
 Connecticut, 1785 and 1786, completed the title 
 to the vast tract now occupied by six populous 
 States. In the South, the process was slower. 
 South Carolina ceded her claim in 1787, North 
 Carolina in 1790. It was not till 1802, that 
 Georgia released her hold upon the region now 
 comprised in the States of Alabama and Missis- 
 sippi. 
 
 An inspection of Table I. of the Appendix to 
 this essay will show that the United States received 
 title to less land than was included in the cessions. 
 This was because in every case there were reserva- 
 tions. Thus, Connecticut kept for herself the 
 Western Reserve. Virginia liberally provided a 
 bounty tract for her Revolutionary soldiers north 
 of the Ohio River. North Carolina, with a great 
 flourish of trumpets, yielded the region now in- 
 cluded within the State of Tennessee ; but it was 
 found later that the whole region was covered by 
 State land warrants, so that the United States
 
 238 Essags on ©ovenimcnt. 
 
 never actually held an acre there by original title. 
 In addition to the reservations for the benefit of 
 States and their protege's, every tract which has 
 come to the Government has been reduced 
 by the claims of previous residents : the policy 
 of the Government has been to leave actual 
 occupants of small estates undisturbed, and to 
 construe liberally the grants of previous govern- 
 ments. The Indian occupancy has also always 
 been recognized as something which must be pur- 
 chased before the United States gained full title. 
 Texas retained the whole body of public lands 
 within her limits. With the two exceptions of 
 Indian and Texan lands, the United States has 
 had, since 1802, to consider only private claims. 
 As more than one-half of the whole present terri- 
 tory of the United States (1,865,457 out of 3,501,- 
 509 square miles) has once been Spanish, the land 
 titles under the grants and laws of Spain have been 
 a troublesome thorn in the flesh of successive Land 
 Commissioners. No exact record appears of the 
 precise quantities of land confirmed to claimants 
 in California, New Mexico, Louisiana, and Florida, 
 but upwards of fifty thousand square miles have 
 doubtless never entered the public domain. The 
 general policy of the Government is to require a 
 claimant under Spanish grants to prove his title. 
 Great hardship has often ensued, and many grants 
 are still unconfirmed by the United States. 
 
 If the Government had never parted with any of
 
 Ipubllc XaiiD ^oUc^. 239 
 
 the lands to which it had undoubted title, the na- 
 tion would now have, including Alaska, a patri- 
 mony of 2,708,388 square miles. This area is but 
 little less than that of the whole United States, 
 excluding Alaska. The fourth column of Table I. 
 shows the amount of land in possession of the 
 United States from year to year. It will be no- 
 ticed that since 1803 we have had more land than 
 exclusive territory. A very considerable part of 
 the public domain lies therefore within the limits 
 of States. Another significant fact, shown by the 
 same table, is the rapid melting away of the area 
 gained by each cession since 1805. We had less 
 land in 1846 than before the Florida and final 
 Oregon annexations ; the area of Alaska barely 
 made good the acreage lost since 1848, and a 
 new Texas would not restore the public lands 
 parted with since 1880. Let us look more closely 
 into the process by which the United States 
 has divested itself of more than a million square 
 miles. 
 
 Table II., in the Appendix, shows the number 
 of acres disposed of in each year, classified under 
 four heads, which, roughly speaking, account each 
 for one-fourth of the total.* First in amount and 
 importance are the sales. The history of the public 
 lands happens to fall into five tolerably distinct 
 
 * The generalizations in this part of the essay are based on a 
 study of the Land Office returns down to 1883, and it has not 
 been possible to reconstruct all the tables to 1892.
 
 240 jBsen^e on ©ovcinment. 
 
 periods, each of about twenty years. From 1784 
 to 1 801, the policy of the Government was to sell 
 lands in large quantities by special contract : the 
 result was an average sale of less than one hun- 
 dred thousand acres yearly. In 1800 was inaugu- 
 rated a new system of sales, in small lots, on credit: 
 about eighteen millions of acres were thus taken, 
 but more than two and a half millions subse- 
 quently reverted to the Government under relief 
 acts. In the middle of 1820 began a system of 
 sales for cash, in lots to suit purchasers. Seventy- 
 six million acres were sold in twenty years ; but of 
 this large quantity one-half passed out of the hands 
 of the Government in the two years preceding the 
 panic of 1837. After that revulsion, the pre-emp- 
 tion system was adopted, by which the most desir- 
 able lands were reserved for actual settlers, at a 
 low price. Except in the years 1856-57, the sales 
 were steady, and kept pace with the growth of the 
 West. The homestead system carried the princi- 
 ple of " land for the landless " still further, and 
 cut down cash sales to an average of a million acres 
 a year. Since 1880, pre-emptions have been 
 resorted to again, in many cases for fraudulent pur- 
 poses; and the total sales average almost four mill- 
 ion acres a year. At present, lands are classified 
 by the Land Office as agricultural, saline, town 
 site, mineral, coal, stone and timber, and desert 
 lands. From 1854 to 1862 there was a further 
 class of " graduated lands." These were tracts
 
 Ipublic Xan? ipoHcig. 241 
 
 which had long remained unsold, and were offered 
 to abutters at very low prices. The minimum 
 price for ordinary lands has for many years been 
 $1.25 per acre. Timber lands and lands reserved 
 from railroad land-grants are sold at the " double 
 minimum " of $2.50 an acre ; mineral lands are 
 valued at $2.50 and $5 an acre; coal lands, at 
 $10 and $20 an acre. 
 
 It would seem, therefore, as though the sale of 
 a hundred and ninety-two million acres must have 
 brought in a handsome sum to the Government. 
 As long ago as 1787, Thomas Jefferson wrote : " I 
 am very much pleased that our Western lands sell 
 so successfully. I turn to this precious resource as 
 that which will, in every event, liberate us from 
 our domestic debt, and perhaps, too, from our for- 
 eign one." It is true that the proceeds of the pub- 
 lic lands did eventually wipe out the last vestiges 
 of the debt which had existed in 1787. It is true 
 that the lands had, up to June 30, 1883, brought 
 into the Treasury of the United States the smart 
 amount of two hundred and thirty-three million 
 dollars. It is equally true that, except for the 
 period from 1830 to 1840, the lands have been a 
 drain upon our finances. At the end of the finan- 
 cial year 1882-83 the Government was out of 
 pocket, so far as cash outlay and receipts are meas- 
 ures of the value of the lands, in the sum of more 
 than one hundred and twenty-six millions of dol- 
 lars. 
 
 16
 
 242 JEssa^s on ©ovenimcnt. 
 
 The first great item of expense is the extinguish- 
 ment of the Indian claim to ownership. Since 
 1 78 1 the United States Government has recog- 
 nized the right of occupancy, but has asserted its 
 sole prerogative to acquire Indian lands. First and 
 last, up to the end of the fiscal year 1882-83, it 
 had paid two hundred and nine millions of dollars 
 for the interest of the Indian in his lands. There 
 have been grave acts of injustice in the manner of 
 negotiation and of payment, but no inferior race 
 ever received more consideration at the hands of 
 the treaty-making power. The Indians are still 
 in possession of reservations comprising some of 
 the most favored lands in the West and embracing 
 more than a hundred million acres of land. A 
 second source of expense has been the purchase- 
 money paid for all the annexations since 1802, 
 except that of Oregon. The items in the cate- 
 gory taken together make an outlay of upwards of 
 eighty-eight millions. Surveys and expenses of 
 disposition add fifty-five millions. If a strict ac- 
 count were to be made up, there should be added 
 to the expenditure a proportion of the general ex- 
 penses of maintaining the government and the 
 whole cost of the Mexican war. 
 
 Unsatisfactory as is the financial result of our 
 public-land policy, we must reflect that the sales 
 account for but little more than a fourth part of 
 the total disposition. Perhaps we shall find the 
 remainder so used as to give some indirect benefit
 
 Ipubllc Xan? ipollc^. 243 
 
 which cannot be reckoned in dollars and cents. In 
 the second column of Table II. is a partial record 
 of the grants made to individuals. The twenty- 
 year periods are again distinctly marked. In the 
 first four decades two sorts of grants are apparent. 
 In 1796, and later, provision was made for the ful- 
 filment of long-standing promises to the Revolu- 
 tionary troops and to the Canadian refugees who 
 had taken sides with the patriots. At the same 
 time, Congress made gifts of small tracts of land 
 to individuals who had performed special services 
 to the republic. Thus, Lafayette received a town- 
 ship of land in 1824; and in 1843 a square mile 
 was voted to one Lowe for " his gallantry and peril 
 in the rescue of an American brig from the hands 
 of pirates." A very few grants were made to edu- 
 cational and charitable institutions; thus, Jeffer- 
 son College, Mississippi, and the deaf and dumb 
 asylums of Kentucky and Connecticut, were each 
 endowed with a township. Congress has always 
 shown a singular moderation in making special 
 grants, perhaps because its general gifts were so 
 magnificent. Of the ten million acres given away, 
 down to 1840, the greater part was in reward for 
 services in the Revolutionary War and War of 
 1812. For services in the Mexican War the Gov- 
 ernment appropriated about sixty millions of acres. 
 Another form of gift is the so-called "donations." 
 From 1842 to 1854 acts were passed granting 
 quarter sections of land to actual settlers who
 
 244 JEesa^s on ©ovcrnmcnt. 
 
 would reside on dangerous frontiers. About three 
 millions of acres have been claimed under these 
 conditions. The homestead act of 1862 intro- 
 duced a new principle into the public-land system : 
 it provided not only for the reservation of farms 
 for actual settlers, but it proposed to give land to 
 all heads of families, citizens of the United States 
 or intending to become such. The effect of the 
 act has been threefold. Under its provisions and 
 those of the similar timber-culture act of 1873, im- 
 migration has been stimulated, the revenue from 
 the lands was for many years almost cut off, and 
 one hundred and fifty millions of acres have 
 passed from the public domain into private hands. 
 In some respects, the rapid settlement of the West, 
 which has been greatly favored by the generous 
 policy of the Government, has undoubtedly con- 
 duced to the welfare of the country, and has made 
 possible our elaborate systems of transportation 
 and distribution on a large scale. It is, neverthe- 
 less, a question whether the present generation, as 
 well as posterity, might not have been equally pros- 
 perous if the Government had made the condi- 
 tions of acquirement more rigorous. 
 
 To ascribe the depletion of our reserves of land 
 to the bounty and homestead acts is unjust : the 
 United States has given to the States almost as 
 much as to individuals. Most of the original six- 
 teen States (including Vermont, Kentucky, and 
 Tennessee) were in possession of unoccupied lands
 
 Ipublic 5LanD poKcg. 245 
 
 in 1802. The new States as they have been ad- 
 mitted have received large gifts of three kinds. 
 To most of them have been granted from one to 
 six townships of saline lands, an aggregate of half 
 a million acres. For all admitted to the Union 
 previous to 1850 have been reserved one thirty- 
 sixth of the public domain within their limits, for 
 school purposes. The fortunate States which have 
 come in since 1850 receive one-eighteenth, and a 
 like amount is reserved in each of the Territories, 
 except the Indian Territory and Alaska. The total 
 thus set aside is about sixty-eight million acres. 
 For each of the new States and Territories has also 
 been reserved a tract of from two to four townships 
 for a university — a total of more than a million 
 acres. In 1862 Congress granted to each State in 
 the Union, lands proportioned to its representation 
 in Congress, for an agricultural college. Nearly 
 ten million acres were thus appropriated. It is at 
 least doubtful whether a system of endowed public 
 schools is desirable. Many of the States have 
 squandered, lost, or misused the lands acquired for 
 educational purposes. In others the people decline 
 to tax themselves for school purposes, and rely 
 wholly on the fund. But it is even worse with other 
 formsof grants to States. In 1841, a time of reck- 
 less disposition of the lands, a grant of five hundred 
 thousand acres was made to each of seventeen of the 
 States, for internal improvements. The largest 
 single gift made to the States up to that time was
 
 246 Bssags on ©overunicnt. 
 
 included in the swamp-land grants of 1849 and sub- 
 sequent years. All the "swamp and overflowed 
 lands " within the limits of any State were granted 
 to that State. It was expected that the sale of a 
 part would pay the expense of reclaiming the 
 whole. It does not appear that any great improve- 
 ments have been made by the States; and the 
 United States is now spending large sums in build- 
 ing levees, to protect regions thus presented to the 
 States in 1850. When the six new States were 
 admitted into the Union in 1890 and 1891 (?), they 
 received the most magnificent endowment ever 
 bestowed on republican commonwealths. Part of 
 the area was reserved school lands ; part of it was 
 in the form of new gifts for public buildings, uni- 
 versities and other purposes : the whole amounted 
 to twenty-three million acres, and the gift was 
 accompanied by a promise that no part should be 
 sold at less than ten dollars an acre. 
 
 Throughout the history of the country there has 
 prevailed the double error that a gift of land cost 
 the Government nothing, yet was of very great 
 value to the recipient. Upon the land that is of 
 any worth, the United States has spent money for 
 surveys and administration ; yet the States and 
 other grantees have found it hard to turn the gifts 
 into money. A great part of the educational 
 grants have realized not more than a dollar an 
 acre. It would in many respects be preferable for 
 the Government to appropriate the proceeds of the
 
 Ipublic XanD policy, 247 
 
 lands rather than to give the disposal of the soil 
 to the States. A distribution act was passed in 
 1 841, by which the net amount received for public 
 lands was to be paid to the States ; but it was re- 
 pealed so speedily that only about seven hundred 
 thousand dollars was thus distributed. A much 
 larger sum has accumulated, and has been paid to 
 the States, under the " two, three, and five per 
 cent, funds," By agreement with each State as it 
 has entered the Union, the United States consents 
 to pay over a proportion of the net proceeds of the 
 lands within that State. More than seven million 
 dollars have been allowed under this provision. 
 The deduction is not strictly a gift, since the States 
 in return bind themselves not to tax public land 
 till it has been five years in the hands of a private 
 owner. 
 
 In theory, the lands appropriated for internal 
 improvements of various kinds have also been sac- 
 rificed in order to make the remainder more valu- 
 able. The Ohio five per cent, fund in 1802 was 
 intended to be applied to the construction of the 
 Cumberland road, which was to be the great ave- 
 nue for purchasers and settlers from the Atlantic 
 coast. This was the beginning of the system of 
 internal improvement at the expense of the nation ; 
 but, in practice, Congress built the road out of 
 general funds. It was not till 1827, four years 
 after the first river and harbor bill, that direct 
 grants of lands were made in aid of internal im-
 
 248 Essags on Government. 
 
 provements. The new and momentous policy 
 began with grants for canals. Between 1827 and 
 1850 about three million acres had been appropri- 
 ated to this purpose, principally to secure the com- 
 pletion of the system connecting the lakes with 
 the Ohio and Mississippi. The jealousy caused 
 by the action of Congress brought about the com- 
 jorehensive grant of five hundred thousand acres to 
 each " public land State," to which reference has 
 already been made. But the most familiar form 
 of grants for internal improvements dates from 
 1850. By that year the railroad system had been 
 extended so far west as to penetrate large tracts of 
 unsold lands. Congress aided the extension of 
 the system by assigning to the States of Illinois, 
 Alabama, and Mississippi nearly four million acres, 
 to be used toward the construction of the Illinois 
 Central and Mobile and Ohio lines, reaching from 
 Chicago to the Gulf. Between 1850 and 1872 
 about eighty similar land-grants were made. The 
 principal lines of communication in Minnesota and 
 Iowa, and important roads in Wisconsin, Illinois, 
 Missouri, Arkansas, Louisiana, Alabama, Missis- 
 sippi, and Florida, were subsidized. In 1862 a 
 new problem presented itself. It became a politi- 
 cal necessity to lay a line of railroad across the con- 
 tinent. Between Iowa and California there were no 
 States to which the grant could pass. Congress, 
 therefore, promised a subsidy of land to corpora- 
 tions which undertook to build the Pacific railroads.
 
 Ipublic XanO ipoKcg. 249 
 
 In the ten years following, some twenty -three 
 similar grants were made, in almost all cases for 
 roads running east and west, and intended to form 
 links in transcontinental lines.- To satisfy the 
 terms of the acts, about one hundred and fifty-five 
 millions of acres would be necessary. Several 
 companies never built their roads, and earned no 
 grant ; others completed the work after the pre- 
 scribed time. In a few cases Congress has for- 
 mally declared the grant void, and has restored the 
 land to the public domain. A few grants for 
 canals and for wagon roads, between the years 
 1863 and 1872, make up the three remaining mill- 
 ions of the grand total promised by the Govern- 
 ment — a total of a hundred and sixty-two millions 
 of acres. Out of this amount only about fifty mill- 
 ions of acres had been patented to the States and 
 companies in 1883. During the ten years follow- 
 ing, there have been legal reversions to the Govern- 
 ment of fifty million acres out of unpatented land- 
 grants ; and large tracts are still disputed. 
 
 To express the disposition of the public lands 
 in familiar terms, the United States had up to 
 1883 parted with a tract equal to its whole area 
 east of the Mississippi River, added to the States 
 of Missouri, Iowa, and Minnesota (west of the 
 river). The acreage sold was a little more than the 
 combined areas of the New England and Middle 
 
 * In Donaldson's Public Domain, 949, will be found two excel- 
 lent graphic maps of the land-grants.
 
 250 jBBsn^e on Government. 
 
 States, with Ohio, Indiana, and Michigan. The 
 coast States from Delaware to Florida (including 
 Maryland) represent the area of gifts to individu- 
 als. The remainder of the South, east of the Mis- 
 sissippi, closely approximates to the area of grants 
 to States. The remainder of the Northwest, with 
 Missouri, Iowa, and Minnesota, may stand for the 
 internal improvement grants. 
 
 Yet so vast is the area of the country that the 
 Government might repeat its sales and gratuities, 
 acre for acre, without exhausting its reserves of 
 land in the West alone. In spite of the fact that 
 the States had in the beginning, or have retained, 
 five hundred million acres, and that the United 
 States has parted with seven hundred and thirty 
 million acres, the public domain still comprises 
 nearly a thousand million acres. The real signifi- 
 cance of the present alarm about the disappearance 
 of the public lands, lies in the fact that the greater 
 part of the unsold lands are either reserved for the 
 Indians or are unfit for ordinary tillage. Upon the 
 best vacant lands — amounting to about a hundred 
 millions of acres — the Indians are still seated. 
 The area can be reduced by judicious and costly 
 treaties ; but it amounts only to about three hun- 
 dred acres per head ; and, if the occupants should 
 take up land in severalty to the amount of three 
 hundred and twenty acres for each head of a fam- 
 ily, they would still retain thirty million acres of 
 valuable lands ; they could not be dispossessed
 
 Ipublic ILanD policy. 251 
 
 without such injustice as would rouse the nation. 
 Experts in the Land Office assure us that, making 
 all deductions and allowances, the remaining lands 
 are worth upward of a thousand millions of dollars. 
 There is no evidence in the past policy of the Gov- 
 ernment for believing that we shall actually net 
 one-tenth of that amount. The greater part of the 
 region is officially classified as " Desert Lands," 
 and is for sale in tracts of six hundred and forty 
 acres, at a dollar and a quarter an acre. Noth- 
 ing but the temporary increase of pre-emption has 
 enabled the Land Office at present to pay its run- 
 ning expenses out of its income. The golden time 
 is past; our agricultural land is gone; our timber 
 lands are fast going ; our coal and mineral lands 
 will be snapped up as fast as they prove valuable. 
 There is no great national reserve left in the public 
 lands unless there should be a change of policy. 
 Should disaster overtake us, we must depend, like 
 other nations, on the wealth of the people, and not 
 on that of the Government. 
 
 It is, of course, true that the lands are still in 
 existence, and have been made many times more 
 valuable by the labor of the occupants. It is 
 further true that large quantities of vacant land 
 are for sale by the railroads and other grantees. 
 There is no immediate danger of a land famine. 
 There is abundant cause for criticism of the system 
 adopted by the United States, but it should right- 
 fully be directed rather against the manner in
 
 252 jE63n>Q3 on Government. 
 
 which the laws have worked than against their 
 purpose. Since 1841, the lands have nominally- 
 been reserved for actual settlers ; but practice has 
 shown grave defects in the settlement laws — defects 
 which Congress has no will to remedy. No man 
 can legally pre-empt land or take up a homestead 
 more than once; but this limitation is very diffi- 
 cult to guard, and perjury and fraud are alarmingly 
 frequent. No one man can legally acquire more 
 than eleven hundred and twenty acres of land from 
 the Government, if any one else wants the land ; 
 a hundred and sixty acres as a pre-emption, as much 
 more as a homestead, another quarter-section as a 
 tree claim, and a section of six hundred and forty 
 acres as a desert-land claim. Actually, single in- 
 dividuals and companies own large estates, which 
 a few years ago were in the hands of the Govern- 
 ment. 
 
 The accumulation of the large tracts is often 
 brought about by fraud, but much oftener through 
 the mistaken generosity of the Government or 
 through defective land laws. It is not always 
 necessary to hire men fraudulently to take up land 
 for the company. In Texas, the State has sold its 
 lands in its own way, often in large blocks. The 
 school-lands and the scrip for bounty warrants have 
 legally been used for locating wide extending estates. 
 The railroad lands, although not in compact tracts, 
 can be used as a nucleus for a large accumulation ; 
 and, in a country where land is cheap and money
 
 Ipublic XanO ipcllcx?. 253 
 
 dear, the patient, long-headed capitalist can buy up 
 valuable claims in a legitimate manner. The chief 
 source of the present trouble in the West lies in 
 the fact that the Government never recognized that 
 grazing land must be sold and occupied under dif- 
 ferent conditions from ordinary arable lands. The 
 first comers have been allowed to take up the 
 water-fronts. Any comprehensive system of irri- 
 gation of large areas for the benefit of future land- 
 seekers has thus been forever prevented. The 
 possessor of the rivers and water-holes has gained 
 control of the country behind his claim. In such 
 a contest, the largest and richest concerns have a 
 great advantage. There was a time when the 
 Government might have laid out, for sale or lease, 
 large tracts of grazing lands, each with a sufficient 
 water-front. It is now too late. 
 
 The fundamental criticism upon our public-land 
 policy is, not that we have sold our lands cheap, 
 not that we have freely given them away, but that 
 the gifts have in too many cases inured to the bene- 
 fit of those whom the Government meant to ignore. 
 The " land-grabber " is, in most cases, simply tak- 
 ing advantage of the chances which a defective 
 system has cast in the way of shrewd and fore- 
 handed or unscrupulous men. The difficulty is 
 certainly not in the Land Office, which, in the midst 
 of perplexing complications, has striven hard to pro- 
 tect our lands. The fault lies at the door of the 
 Congress of the United States, which has the power,
 
 254 Essays on Government. 
 
 but not the will, to correct notorious defects in our 
 system. Still farther back, the fault is with the 
 free citizens of the Republic, who have been too 
 much occupied to insist that there should be a 
 comprehensive land policy, providing for the equit- 
 able disposition of all classes of the public lands.* 
 
 * The first three columns of Table I., on the next page, are based upon the 
 statement of the areas of parcels of the territory of the United States in the Cen- 
 sus Atlas of 1874, corrected by careful comparison with the revised areas which 
 appear in the Compendium of the Tenth Census, p. 1413. and in Donaldson's 
 Public Domain, p. 1190. The totals of the first and second columns agree with 
 the census estimates. For the third column, the data for subtractions on account 
 of reservations and private claims have been obtained from Donaldson, 6g, 73, 
 82-85, 233i 367-382, 405-409. The fourth column is found by subtracting for 
 each year the total disposition (shown in acres in Table II.) from the total area 
 acquired (shown in Table I., column 3). 
 
 As no official statement of the disposition of the public lands year by year has 
 been found. Table II. has been compiled from information in the ReJ>orts of the 
 Land Office and in Donaldson's Public Domain. 
 
 The column of sales is derived solely from the reports in American State 
 Pajyers, Public Lands, i., 82, ii., 442, iii., 420, 459 (1787-1819) ; State Pa/>ers, 
 1820-21, vol. i.. Doc. 8, p. 16 ; Senate Documents, 1823-24, vol. iii.. Doc. 59, 
 p. 9, and 1833-34, vol. i., Doc. 9, pp. 60-63, 82 (1820-1833) ; House Executive 
 Documents for the years 1834-1845, 1847-49, '851-58, 1862-1883 ; Senate Ex- 
 ecutive Documents for the years 1846, 1850, 1859-1861 (1833-1883). The total 
 to 1883 (192,584,116) is about 14,000,000 less than the total found by adding the 
 items of sales in Donaldson's Public Domain, 519. There is a discrepancy, 
 therefore, between the yearly official reports and the semi-ofiicial statement of 
 1883. The table tallies with the last total found stated by the Land Office in 
 1833. 
 
 The three columns of grants, to individuals, to States, and for internal im- 
 provements, are based upon the principle that, so soon as Congress passed an 
 act under which a claim upon the Government accrued, the land was disposed 
 of. In many cases, particularly those of the swamp lands, railroad grants, home- 
 stead, and tree claims, there will be extensive reversions. The second column, 
 of grants to individuals, is compiled from statements in Donaldson, with the addi- 
 tion of a few gifts shown by the Statutes at Large. The total is eight millions 
 more than Donaldson's, but a number of grants are included which are not footed 
 into his results. The third column is also derived from Donaldson, and agrees 
 with his total within two millions. The fourth column overruns his total by a 
 hundred millions. All railroad grants are included, though patents have not been 
 issued. 
 
 To Mr. G. .S. Callender, of the Harvard Graduate School, the author is indebted 
 for the continuation of the tables to 1892, and for a summary of the reversions. 
 He has used the Annual Reports of the Commissioner of Public Lands. The 
 items on the line marked " Reversions" are for the land restored to the Public 
 Domain from 1885 to i88g. Under the first two headings there were restored 
 30,489,314 acres. It was impossible to tell from the Reports just what part of 
 this sum belonged under each head. The division made is an estimate.
 
 Table I. — Showing Approximately the Acquisition of 
 THE Public Lands of the United States, i 783-1891. 
 
 [Areas in Square Miles.] 
 
 Areas acquired 
 by the United 
 States. 
 
 Total area un- 
 der exclusive 
 jurisdiction 
 of the U. S. 
 
 Areas of land 
 acquired by 
 the U. S. 
 
 Total area of 
 land under 
 ownership of 
 the U. S. 
 
 
 819,815 
 
 175,210 
 229,526 
 262,824 
 267,789 
 267,473 
 
 168,250 168,250 
 
 54,316 i 222,566 
 
 33,142 255,708 
 
 4,965 259.015 
 
 258,292 
 
 1783 
 1784 
 
 1785 
 1786 
 1787 
 1788 
 
 819,815 
 
 267,473 
 
 260,673 i 258,292 
 
 1789 Totals. 
 
 
 309.423 
 267,473 
 301,573 
 
 34,022 
 
 258,292 
 254,921 
 288,927 
 
 1790 
 1796 
 1798 
 
 819,815 
 
 301,573 
 
 294,695 287,303 
 
 1800 Totals. 
 
 877,268 
 
 225,948 
 9.790 
 
 54,240 
 
 301,669 
 361,716 
 1,198,224 
 1,198,224 
 1,162,596 
 1,126,686 
 1,080,346 
 1,024,346 
 1,027,046 
 
 45.532 
 
 • 863,268 
 
 225,948 
 
 9,290 
 
 52.276 
 
 287,858 
 333.108 
 1,194,827 
 1,419,249 
 1,416,080 
 1,409,352 
 
 1,404,973 
 1,399,438 
 1,442,603 
 
 1,438,385 
 
 1801 
 1802 
 1803 
 1805 
 1812 
 1816 
 18.7 
 1818 
 1819 
 
 1,986,061 
 
 1,027,046 
 
 1,491,009 
 
 1820 Totals. 
 
 
 961,479 
 905.266 
 847,851 
 
 
 1,437,476 
 1,338,094 
 1,330,436 
 
 1821 
 1836 
 1837 
 
 1,986,061 
 
 847,851 
 
 1,491,009 ! 1,313,790 
 
 1840 Totals. 
 
 262,290 
 
 58,880 
 
 614,439 
 
 47.330 
 
 793,632 
 1,028,949 
 1,572,938 
 1,426,985 
 
 1,474.315 
 i,^!95,tio 
 
 1.300,557 
 
 58,630 
 579.919 
 
 47.330 
 
 1,284,356 
 1.337.807 
 1,890,013 
 
 1,750,869 
 
 1,754,614 
 1,601,906 
 
 1.590,369 
 
 1845 
 1846 
 1848 
 1850 
 
 1853 
 1858 
 
 1859 
 
 2,970,000 
 
 1,305,557 
 
 2,176,888 
 
 1,578,822 
 
 i860 Totals. 
 
 531.409 
 
 1,218,939 
 1,109,234 
 
 1,564,606 
 1,461,247 
 
 531.400 
 
 1,556,654 
 1,403,063 
 1,862,992 
 1.739,271 
 
 1861 
 1864 
 1867 
 1876 
 
 3,501,509 
 
 1,461,247 
 
 2,708,288 
 
 1,705,938 
 
 1880 Totals. 
 
 
 i,iot,357 
 919,492 
 
 
 1,466,786 
 1,442,265 
 
 18S9 
 1890 
 
 3,501,509 
 
 919,492 
 
 2,708,288 1,429,527 
 
 1891 Totals. 
 
 (255)
 
 Table II.— Showing ApruoxiMATELY the Disposition of 
 
 [Areas in Acres.] 
 
 Sales. 
 
 Grants to indi- 
 viduals (other 
 than for inter- 
 
 Grants to States 
 (other than for 
 
 jrants for in- 
 ternal im- 
 prove ments 
 
 Total 
 
 
 
 nal improve- 
 ments). 
 
 internal im- 
 provements). 
 
 (to States and 
 corporations). 
 
 disposition. 
 
 
 1,037,259 
 
 23,040 
 
 
 
 1,060,299 
 
 1787 
 
 450,727 
 
 12,000 
 
 
 
 462,727 
 
 1788 
 
 1,487,986 
 
 35,040 
 
 
 
 1,523,026 
 
 Total to 1 790 
 
 
 100 
 
 
 
 100 
 
 1792 
 
 
 24,000 
 
 
 
 24,000 
 
 1795 1 
 
 48,566 
 
 2,095,220 
 
 
 
 2,143.786 
 
 1796 
 
 38,365 
 
 300 
 
 
 
 38,665 
 
 1800 
 
 1,574,917 
 
 2,154,660 
 
 
 
 3,729,577 
 
 Total to 1800 
 
 360,281 
 
 101,700 
 
 
 
 461,981 
 
 1801 
 
 340,010 
 
 
 24,216 
 
 
 364.226 
 
 1802 
 
 181,068 
 
 36,800 
 
 773,608 
 
 
 091,476 
 
 1803 
 
 373,612 
 
 
 
 
 373,612 
 
 1804 
 
 619,266 
 
 
 
 
 619,266 
 
 1805 
 
 473.212 
 
 
 
 
 473.212 
 
 1806 
 
 3S9'Oi2 
 
 13,120 
 
 
 
 372,132 
 
 1807 
 
 213.472 
 
 
 
 
 213,472 
 
 1808 
 
 231.045 
 
 
 
 
 231,045 
 
 1809 
 
 235,878 
 
 
 
 
 235,878 
 
 1810 
 
 288,930 
 
 
 
 
 288,930 
 
 1811 
 
 436,932 
 
 4,853,600 
 
 832,164 
 
 
 6,122,696 
 
 1812 
 
 145,062 
 
 
 
 
 145,062 
 
 1813 
 
 828,411 
 
 
 
 
 828,411 
 
 1814 
 
 1,075,183 
 
 
 
 
 1.075, '83 
 
 1815 
 
 1.473,679 
 
 77,232 
 
 726,437 
 
 
 2.277,348 
 
 1816 
 
 1,929,142 
 
 
 873,664 
 
 
 2.802,806 
 
 1817 
 
 2,388,864 
 
 
 1, 153. '75 
 
 
 3,542,039 
 
 1818 
 
 5,110,628 
 
 23,040 
 
 1,017,974 
 
 
 6,151,642 
 
 1819 
 
 784,608 
 
 
 1,291,299 
 
 
 2,075,907 
 
 i82o(isthal0 
 Total to 
 
 19,423,212 
 
 7,260,152 
 
 6,692,537 
 
 
 33,375,901 
 
 1820-21 
 
 3031404 
 
 
 
 
 303,404 
 
 i82o(2dhal0 
 
 781,213 
 
 
 
 
 781,213 
 
 1821 
 
 801,226 
 
 
 
 
 801,226 
 
 1822 
 
 653,320 
 
 23,000 
 
 
 
 653,320 
 
 1823 
 
 1 -2,469,517! 
 
 1 -2,469.517! 
 
 1821-23 
 
 749,323 
 
 772,323 
 
 1824 
 
 893,462 
 
 
 
 
 893,462 
 
 1825 
 
 848,082 
 
 22,508 
 
 
 
 870,590 
 
 1826 
 
 926,728 
 
 
 
 791,696 
 
 1,718,424 
 
 1827 
 
 965,600 
 
 
 
 833,826 
 
 1,799,426 
 
 1828 
 
 1,244,860 
 
 
 
 
 1,244,860 
 
 1829 
 
 1,929,734 
 
 1,422,093 
 
 
 29.552 
 
 3,381,379 
 
 1830 
 1831 
 
 2,777,857 
 
 
 
 
 2,777,857 
 
 2,462,342 
 
 301,280 
 
 
 
 2,763,622 
 
 1832 
 
 3,856,278 
 
 200,000 
 
 
 
 4.056,278 
 
 1833 
 
 4,658,219 
 
 36,000 
 
 
 
 4,694,219 
 
 1834 
 
 15,934,430 
 
 500,000 
 
 
 
 16,434,430 
 
 1835 
 
 20,074,871 
 
 
 2,138,117 
 
 
 22,212,988 
 
 1836 
 
 5,601,103 
 
 
 
 
 5,601,103 
 
 1837 
 
 3,414,907 
 
 
 
 125,431 
 
 3,540,338 
 
 1838 
 
 4.976,383 
 
 
 
 
 4,976,383 
 
 1839 
 
 2,236,890 
 
 
 
 
 2,236,890 
 
 1840 
 
 93,043,927 
 
 9,765,033 
 
 8,830,654 
 
 1,780,505 
 
 113,420,119 
 
 Totals 101841 
 
 (256)
 
 THE Public Lands of the United States, 1783-1891. 
 
 
 Grants to indi-' 
 
 
 Grants for in- 
 
 
 
 
 viduals (other 
 
 Grants to States 
 
 ter n a 1 i m- 
 
 
 
 Sales. 
 
 than for inter- 
 
 (other than for 
 
 p r V e m ents 
 
 Total 
 
 
 
 nal improve- 
 
 internal im- 
 
 (to States and 
 
 disposition. 
 
 
 
 ments). 
 
 provements). 
 
 corporations). 
 
 
 
 1,164,796 
 
 
 7,906,554 
 
 259,368 
 
 9,330,718 
 
 1841 
 
 1,129,218 
 
 210,720 
 
 
 24,219 
 
 1,364.157 
 
 1842 
 
 1,605,264 
 
 640 
 
 
 
 1,605,904 
 
 1843 
 
 1,754,763 
 
 144,131 
 
 
 
 1,898,894 
 
 1844 
 
 1,843-527 
 
 
 1,997.967 
 
 796,630 
 
 4,638,124 
 
 1845 
 
 2,263,731 
 
 
 1,050,709 
 
 
 3,314,440 
 
 1846 
 
 2,521,306 
 
 13,210,360 
 
 
 
 15,731,666 
 
 1847 
 
 1,887,553 
 
 
 
 113,348 
 
 2,000,901 
 
 1848 
 
 1,329,903 
 
 1,280 
 
 13,831,443 
 
 
 15,162,626 
 
 1S49 
 
 1,405,839 
 
 15,733.285 
 
 59,998,217 
 
 3,751,711 
 
 80,889,052 
 
 1850 
 
 1,846,847 
 
 
 
 
 1,846,847 
 
 1851 
 
 1,553,071 
 
 1,735,976 
 
 
 2,514,7x1 
 
 5,803,758 
 
 1S52 
 
 1,083,495 
 
 290,534 
 
 9.254.079 
 
 2,682,171 
 
 13.310,279 
 
 1853 
 
 7,035,735 
 
 373,929 
 
 92,160 
 
 
 7,501,824 
 
 1854 
 
 15.729.525 
 
 33-993,790 
 
 550.893 
 
 
 50,274,208 
 
 1855 
 
 9,227,879 
 
 
 
 14,559,729 
 
 23,787,608 
 
 1856 
 
 4,142,744 
 
 
 3,098,710 
 
 5,^18,450 
 
 12,359,904 
 
 1857 
 
 3,804,908 
 
 6,667 
 
 
 
 3,811.575 
 
 1858 
 
 3,961,581 
 
 
 3,421,866 
 
 
 7,383,447 
 
 1859 
 
 3,461,204 
 
 
 3,929,279 
 
 
 7,390,483 
 
 i860 
 
 Total <^ trt 
 
 61,796,816 
 
 75,466,345 
 
 113,962,531 
 
 31,600,842 
 
 382,826,534 
 
 I86I 
 
 1,465,604 
 
 
 13,361,902 
 
 
 14,827,506 
 
 1861 
 
 144,850 
 
 
 9,600,000 
 
 23,504,001 
 
 33,248,851 
 
 1862 
 
 91,354 
 
 1,075.775 
 
 3,068,231 
 
 4,439.143 
 
 8,674,503 
 
 1863 
 
 432,734 
 
 1,247,170 
 
 6,844.551 
 
 47,209,927 
 
 55,734.382 
 
 1864 
 
 5';7,2i2 
 
 1,141,443 
 
 4,031,328 
 
 1,328,000 
 
 6,057,983 
 
 1865 
 
 388,294 
 
 1,890,847 
 
 
 34,686,075 
 
 36,965,000 
 
 1866 
 
 756,620 
 
 1,834,512 
 
 
 126,910 
 
 2,718,042 
 
 1867 
 
 914,941 
 
 2,332,151 
 
 3,480,281 
 
 
 6,727,373 
 
 1868 
 
 2,899.544 
 
 2,698,481 
 
 
 104,080 
 
 5.702,105 
 
 1S69 
 
 2,159.515 
 
 3,754,203 
 
 
 1,000,000 
 
 6,913,718 
 
 1870 
 
 1,389,982 
 
 4,657.355 
 
 76,735 
 
 18,903,218 
 
 25,027,290 
 
 IS7I 
 
 1.370,320 
 
 4.595,435 
 
 
 327.903 
 
 6,293,658 
 
 1872 
 
 1,626,266 
 
 3,810,536 
 
 
 
 5,436,802 
 
 1873 
 
 1,041,345 
 
 4,340,795 
 
 
 
 5,382,140 
 
 1874 
 
 745,061 
 
 2,843,476 
 
 3.761,635 
 
 
 7.350,172 
 
 187s 
 
 640,691 
 
 3,467,730 
 
 
 
 4,108,421 
 
 1876 
 
 754,789 
 
 2,700,808 
 
 
 
 3-455.597 
 
 1S77 
 
 1,188,108 
 
 6,399.892 
 
 
 
 7,588,000 
 
 IS78 
 
 622,573 
 
 8,042,886 
 
 
 
 8.665.459 
 
 1879 
 
 850,740 
 
 8,224,192 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 9,074,932 
 
 1880 
 Totals to 
 
 81,837,359 
 
 140,524,032 
 
 158,187,194 
 
 162,230,099 
 
 642,778,684 
 
 1881 
 
 1.587,617 
 
 6,791,899 
 
 230,400 
 
 
 8,609,916 
 
 1881 
 
 3,611,530 
 
 8,894,731 
 
 
 
 12,506,261 
 
 1S82 
 
 5,547,610 
 
 11,272,844 
 
 
 
 16,820,454 
 
 1883 
 
 6,317.847 
 
 11,915,972 
 
 
 
 18,233,819 
 
 1884 
 
 3,912,450 
 
 12,170,890 
 
 
 
 16,083,340 
 
 1885 
 
 3,773,498 
 
 14.536,444 
 
 
 
 18,309,942 
 
 18S6 
 
 5,587,910 
 
 11.818,747 
 
 
 
 17,406,657 
 
 1887 
 
 5,790,652 
 
 10,411,920 
 
 
 
 16,202,572 
 
 1888 
 
 3,867,433 
 
 8,580,299 
 
 15,382,768 
 
 
 27,830,500 
 
 1889 
 
 3,302,846 
 
 7,2IQ,oSl 
 
 7,540,760 
 
 
 15,693,760 
 
 1S90 
 
 2,143,090 
 
 6,009,399 
 
 
 
 8,152,489 
 
 1891 
 
 — 10,000,000 
 
 - 20,489,314 
 
 
 - 52,669,674 
 109,560,425 
 
 - 83,158,988 
 
 Reversions 
 
 217,279,842 
 
 229,656,944 
 
 181,341,122 
 
 735,469,406 
 
 Tot'ls to 1892 
 
 17 
 
 (257)
 
 XL 
 
 WHY THE SOUTH WAS DEFEATED 
 IN THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 The question which we shall try to answer in 
 this essay is apparently very simple. Ask an 
 officer of the Union army, and he will tell you that 
 the North won because of our great generals — that 
 Thomas, Sheridan, Sherman, and Grant broke the 
 Confederacy to pieces. Ask a soldier how the vic- 
 tory was won, and he will tell you that " the Sixth 
 Corps smashed Ewell at Sailor's Creek," or that 
 " Sherman's veterans cut the Confederacy in two," 
 Ask a public man, and he will tell you, perhaps 
 in ten volumes, that it was Abraham Lincoln to 
 whom we owe the success of the Union. Ask 
 Abraham Lincoln himself, and he would reply in 
 the spirit of those words which no repetition can 
 make trite, and which prove him a master of 
 English as he was a master of men, that the war 
 was carried on by " a government of the people, 
 by the people, and for the people." Each of these 
 
 (258)
 
 Zbe mortb aiiD the Soutb. 259 
 
 answers is true so far as it goes. The Confederacy 
 never could have been put down without com- 
 manders of genius, guiding magnificent armies, 
 supported by those statesmen of whom Abraham 
 Lincoln was the chief, backed up by the devotion 
 and self-sacrifice of a great nation. Military men 
 have a saying that there comes a time in a cam- 
 paign when, if victory is to be obtained, it is neces- 
 sary to put into service the last officer, the last 
 man, the last camp follower, and the last army 
 mule ; and the triumphant and complete success 
 of the northern arms in the Civil War is due to 
 the fact that when the final test of strength came 
 in 1864-65, the North had at every point more 
 officers, more men, more camp followers, and more 
 army mules. 
 
 Yet even an observer who could have foreseen 
 the eventual combination of military, material, and 
 moral forces of the Northern people, might still 
 have predicted in 1861 that the Southern Confed- 
 eracy would obtain its independence. A Southern 
 address of April 30, 1861, declared that " a trium- 
 phant victory and independence with an unpar- 
 alleled career of glory, prosperity, and progress 
 await us in the future," At the beginning of the 
 struggle the Southern leaders, even those who best 
 understood the fighting spirit of the North, were 
 as confident of success as they were of the rising of 
 the sun. Thus Jefferson Davis, in his message of 
 July 20, 1S61, declared that " to speak of subjugat-
 
 26o Bssags on Government. 
 
 ing such a people, so united and determined, is to 
 speak in a language incomprehensible to them." 
 Toward the close of 1862, Mr. Gladstone made his 
 famous declaration — which he has lived to repent: 
 " There is no doubt that Jefferson Davis and other 
 leaders of the South have made an army ; that 
 they are making, it appears, a navy ; and that they 
 have made what is more than either ; they have 
 made a nation." At the very beginning of the 
 struggle, old General Wool gave it as his military 
 opinion that two hundred thousand troops should 
 be placed in the field against Richmond ; and 
 Sherman asked for a like number in Kentucky, if 
 the movement were to be put down at the outset. 
 No Southerner and few foreigners believed that the 
 North possessed a military superiority over the 
 South. To be sure, John Bright, who might with 
 William Lloyd Garrison have said, "The world is 
 my country," not only asserted the rightfulness of 
 the principles of the North, but predicted its suc- 
 cess ; and Cairnes, in his book upon the Slave- 
 power, showed reason why we must succeed ; but 
 most other observers saw only that Virginia was 
 older than Plymouth, that the South had had as 
 long and as eventful a history as the North, that in 
 the Revolution and after it Southern statesmen had 
 stood on more than equal terms with Northern, 
 and that for seventy years the influence of the 
 South had been predominant in internal parties 
 and in foreign policy. What reason was there to
 
 ^bc IRortb anO tbc Soutb. 261 
 
 suppose that when the two sections were separated, 
 the South would prove inferior? It was known 
 that the population of the South was smaller, but 
 the experience of the world up to that time seemed 
 to show that a people determined to resist could 
 not be permanently conquered by four times their 
 force, unless a policy of extermination were 
 adopted. Holland, with its two millions, had sus- 
 tained itself during a war of seventy years against 
 the greatest and proudest empire of the world ; 
 Spain, from 1809 to 18 12, had by a popular upris- 
 ing successfully resisted the armies of Napoleon ; 
 Ireland, after a domination of seven centuries, is 
 not yet perfectly subdued ; the American colonies, 
 with a population of three millions, had success- 
 fully resisted the mother country with a population 
 of twelve millions ; the feeble Spanish American 
 colonies, with the exception of Cuba, had all won 
 their independence against the force of Spain. 
 The secession of the Southern States and their ac- 
 ceptance of the issue of the war was, therefore, not 
 a foolhardy enterprise : the experience of mankind 
 made it probable that it would succeed. Nor did 
 the Confederacy expect to depend wholly upon its 
 own resources. One of the first acts of the Con- 
 
 • 
 
 federate Government was to send envoys to foreign 
 powers. The South believed that its cotton was 
 so essential to England and to France that they 
 must interfere, if necessary, to assist the infant 
 nation; and great was the jubilation when, on the
 
 262 3E06ag0 on ©overument. 
 
 3d of December, 1863, Pope Pius IX. addressed a 
 letter to that " illustris ct Jionorabilis vir,'^ Jeffer- 
 son Davis, which was construed by the Confeder- 
 acy into a recognition by a foreign potentate— the 
 only recognition which it ever received. 
 
 The first years of the war were not such as to 
 destroy the hopes of the South. The first battle 
 of Bull Run, in 1861 ; the second battle of Bull 
 Run, and Pittsburg Landing, in 1862; Chicka- 
 mauga, Chancellorsville, and even Gettysburg, in 
 1863, proved that the South might still hope to 
 maintain itself in the field, until dissensions in the 
 North, or foreign complications, or the interven- 
 tion of foreign powers, should put an end to the 
 war. To the last, the Northern armies were fully 
 employed. In the great campaign of 1864, Grant 
 lost more than the entire army of Lee ; and at the 
 end of it Lee's army was intact. The military col- 
 lapse of the Confederacy was not the result of 
 happy accident, nor of overpowering generalship ; 
 it was caused by the steady unremitting pressure 
 of an adversary superior in forces, in resources, and 
 in morale. After the war was over, Lee was once 
 asked by a Confederate officer why, during the 
 campaign of 1864, he never made a diversion or a 
 sudden attack upon Grant's lines ; and Lee replied 
 that Grant had but once throughout the campaign 
 given him an opportunity, and that that oppor- 
 tunity had been lost by the error of a subordinate. 
 Nowhere in history is there an example of more
 
 XLbc IHoitb auD tbe Soutb. 263 
 
 undiscouraged attack or more stubborn resistance, 
 than in the Civil War, 
 
 Some deeper causes must, therefore, be sought 
 if we will account for the fact that not only was 
 the South beaten, but that the defeat was over- 
 whelming, absolute, and permanent. There must 
 have been essential differences in the character and 
 the equipment of the two sides ; and it is the pur- 
 pose of this essay to discuss those differences, and 
 to show what constituted the weakness of the 
 South and the strength of the North. We shall 
 not concern ourselves with the causes of seces- 
 sion, with the question whether it was constitu- 
 tional or unconstitutional, right or wrong. We 
 shall simply take the two sections as they existed 
 on April 12, 1861, when the war began with the 
 firing upon Fort Sumter, and as they were devel- 
 oped down to the surrender of the Southern army 
 in 1865. Some of the reasons for the success of 
 the North are to be found in the geographical situ- 
 ation of the two parts of the country, some in the 
 economic differences of the two sections, some in 
 the social differences in their civilization, and some 
 in the different moral quality of the people, and the 
 institutions for which they were fighting. 
 
 At the beginning of the struggle, the advantage 
 of geographical situation seemed to be decidedly 
 with the South. Leaving out of account the Ter- 
 ritories and the two States of the Pacific Slope, 
 which entered very little into the military contest,
 
 264 iSssass on (Bovcrnincnt. 
 
 the remaining seventeen free States had, in i860, 
 768,255 square miles, while the fifteen slave-hold- 
 ing States had an area of 875,743 square miles. 
 This larger territory, however, was not in itself a 
 source of military strength. Its frontiers were vast 
 and difificult to defend, and a very considerable part 
 of that territory never came under the control of 
 the Confederate States of America. In the re- 
 sources of the soil, in variety of natural production, 
 the South was in every way equal to the North. 
 The great staple of the South had for many years 
 been cotton. It was easily raised, easily handled, 
 had considerable value in small bulk, and com- 
 manded a good price in cash in the markets of the 
 world. The cotton crop of 1S60 was 4,700,000 
 bales, valued at $230,000,000. With cotton and 
 the proceeds of cotton, the South was able to buy 
 clothing, supplies, and food; for it is a notable 
 fact that for many years the South had been ac- 
 customed to supply itself in part with bacon and 
 corn from the Northwestern States. One of the 
 early acts of the Confederacy was to prohibit the 
 exportation of cotton, except from Confederate 
 seaports ; it was hoped thereby to bring foreign 
 powers to interfere. The result was that a consid- 
 erable part of the cotton crop of i860 and almost 
 the whole of the crops of 1861-2-3-4 were shut 
 in by the blockade. A great pressure was brought 
 to bear by the Confederate Government upon the 
 planters, to induce them to sow corn, and this
 
 XLbc novtb aiiD tbe Soutb. 265 
 
 pressure had especial effect in the year 1864. The 
 industry of the people, particularly in Georgia, 
 prepared a bountiful crop, which ripened just in 
 time to furnish subsistence for Sherman's army on 
 its march to the sea. Toward the end of the war 
 the people of Richmond sometimes suffered for 
 food. George Gary Eggleston, in his " Rebel's 
 Recollections," tells pathetic stories of the wretch- 
 edness to which the troops were reduced in 1865 ; 
 and it is well known that at the surrender of Ap- 
 pomattox, General Lee was obliged to ask for 
 rations for his troops from the commander of the 
 conquering forces. The Northern staples through- 
 out the war, especially bread-stuffs, were freely 
 exported, and were turned into goods and muni- 
 tions of war. 
 
 Inferior as the South was in its products, it was 
 strong in natural defences. The Atlantic and 
 Gulf coasts abounded in shallow harbors not easily 
 penetrable by a hostile force. It was a coast diffi- 
 cult to invade, yet furnishing many havens from 
 which cruisers and privateers might sally forth. 
 Throughout the war no progress was made by 
 Northern armies moving inward from the sea-board, 
 except on the Mississippi. 
 
 From the valley of the Shenandoah to northern 
 Alabama the South was flanked by a natural and 
 impregnable defence, the Appalachian chain of 
 mountains. In the conditions of military transpor- 
 tation at that time it was impossible for a large
 
 266 Bssags on (Bovevnment. 
 
 army to carry with it the supplies for men and 
 animals necessary for a march of a hundred miles 
 through a mountain region. At the beginning of 
 the war Lincoln, with the supreme common-sense 
 which, when applied to military matters, made him 
 often a better general than the generals, suggested 
 that a railroad should be built southeast from some 
 point on the Ohio River, to penetrate the moun- 
 tain system. The next few years showed that had 
 that counsel been followed it might have shortened 
 the war, by a year ; for the only country between 
 Harper's Ferry and northern Mississippi which at 
 that time was penetrated by a railroad leading 
 from north to south was the rugged region lying 
 between Chattanooga and Atlanta. Down that 
 line of railroad Sherman fought his way in 1864; 
 and from Atlanta he proceeded on the march 
 which cut the Confederacy in twain. Except upon 
 that line of railroad the South proved impregnable 
 to land assault from the northwest. 
 
 Another vast geographical advantage which the 
 South possessed at the beginning of the war dis- 
 appeared in 1863. By its control of the mouth of 
 the Mississippi, the Southern Confederacy ex- 
 pected to compel the friendship, if not the adhe- 
 sion, of the upper Mississippi States. The South 
 believed that it held in its hand the key to the 
 commerce of the interior of the Union, and an 
 early act of the Confederate Congress declared the 
 Mississippi open to the friends of the Confeder-
 
 ^be mortb anD tbe Soutb. 267 
 
 acy. But the Erie Canal and the four lines of 
 trans- Alleghany railways, the New York Central, 
 Erie, Pennsylvania Central, and Baltimore & Ohio, 
 united the West still more strongly to the East. 
 The Northwestern States saw, aside from all moral 
 questions connected with slavery, that the success 
 of the Union meant that both the eastern and the 
 southern highways would be opened, while the 
 success of the Confederacy meant that one or the 
 other must be in the hands of a hostile power. 
 Whatever the expectations of the South, the capt- 
 ure of New Orleans in 1862, and of Vicksburg, 
 July 4, 1863, not only dismembered the Confed- 
 eracy, but quieted the fears of the northern interior 
 States. Thenceforward, as Lincoln wrote, "the 
 Father of Waters rolled unvexed to the sea." 
 
 Another military advantage for the South was 
 the sparseness of its population, and the fact that 
 a great part of the theatre of war was untilled. 
 Except in the Shenandoah Valley, to a less degree 
 in Mississippi, the Federal armies could nowhere 
 support themselves from the country until Sher- 
 man's march to the sea in 1864. They advanced 
 through regions heavily wooded, and they advanced 
 into an enemy's country. The South had not 
 only the advantages of situation, but of fighting in 
 the midst of a friendly population and fighting on 
 the inside lines. However unpractical the trans- 
 portation system of the South, it was much easier 
 to move troops from Richmond to Atlanta than
 
 268 j£s6ag8 on ©oventmcnt. 
 
 from Washington to the Mississippi. In a word, 
 the theatre of the war was finally narrowed to the 
 strip of territory between the western edge of the 
 mountains and the sea. Within that strip a 
 smaller number of troops could make head against 
 a larger number; and in the later stages of the war 
 two hundred thousand Confederate troops kept a 
 million Northern soldiers employed. 
 
 All comparisons of area and even of geographical 
 advantages are subordinate to the question of the 
 economic resources of the two sections — -in men, in 
 wealth, in courage, in military resources, and in 
 means of communication. And here we reach 
 that disadvantage of the South to which its con- 
 quest must be chiefly attributed. We have, in the 
 census of i860, the means of exactly comparing the 
 population of the two sections at the outbreak of 
 the war. The 1$ slaveholding States had a popu- 
 lation of 12,315,373; the 17 northern free States, 
 from Kansas to Maine, had a population of 18,441- 
 017; that is, the population of the slave-holding 
 region to the free region was about as two to three. 
 
 The proportion between the population of the 
 free and of the slaveholding sections had greatly 
 changed since 1790. In that year the South had a 
 population equal to the combined population of 
 the Middle and New England States. In 1830, 
 the North had gained a million more than the 
 South; in i860, it had gained six millions more. 
 The rapid growth of the North had been due in
 
 G:bc novtb an^ the Soixtb. 26g 
 
 great part to immigration : of the 4,136,175 foreign- 
 born persons within the limits of the United States 
 in i860, only about three hundred thousand could 
 be found in the slaveholding States outside the 
 cities of St. Louis, Louisville, Baltimore, and New 
 Orleans — all cities connected as much with the 
 West as with the South. In the North, the pro- 
 portion of foreigners was twenty per cent. ; in the 
 Confederacy, it was three per cent. The changed 
 importance of the two sections is shown in the 
 census maps which illustrate the distribution of 
 the population by degrees of density in 1790 and 
 in i860. It will be seen at once that almost all 
 the areas of dense population are found north of 
 the Ohio River, and of Maryland and Virginia. 
 The loss of Southern predominance is shown by 
 the fact that, in 179O, of the seven first States of 
 the Union in order of population, four were slave 
 States; in i860, of the seven first States, but one 
 was a slave State, and that was Missouri, which, 
 in 1790, had been a wilderness and not within the 
 limits of the United States. In fact, nothing can 
 be more certain than that the Civil War was pre- 
 cipitated by the conviction of Southern leaders 
 that the North had such a growing advantage in 
 population that each decade of delay made the 
 South weaker in proportion. 
 
 Yet the superiority of Northern numbers was 
 plainly entirely insufficient for carrying on a war of 
 offence and of conquest. A comparison between
 
 2/0 jEssage on ©orernment. 
 
 the population of the slaveholding and that of the 
 free States does not tell the whole story. The 
 Southern Confederacy, at the very beginning, en- 
 countered a fatal disappointment ; it failed to carry 
 with it four of the slaveholding States, Missouri, 
 Maryland, Delaware, Kentucky, and a part of a 
 fifth, West Virginia. These five States, having a 
 combined population of 3,600,000 people, never se- 
 ceded and never furnished money by loan or tax- 
 ation for the Confederate cause ; and the men who 
 entered the Confederate army from those States 
 were nearly offset by the mountaineers from Ten- 
 nessee and North Carolina who entered the Union 
 Army. The action of a few patriotic men like 
 Holt of Kentucky, Fletcher of Missouri, and 
 Brown of Maryland, and the prompt action of 
 Butler and Fremont and Buell and Grant, in se- 
 curing a military occupation of those States, pre- 
 vented them from throwing in their lot with the 
 Confederacy. The population of the eleven seced- 
 ing States was 8,700,000; the population of the 
 twenty-one non-seceding States, from Kansas to 
 Maine, was 21,950,000. Instead of the odds of 
 population being three to two in favor of the 
 North, they were thus made five to two. With 
 proper military management, aided by a spirited 
 support from the Northern people, the defeat of 
 the South was therefore physically possible ; in- 
 deed, defeat was likely. Nor was this the only 
 advantage gained by the North through its rela-
 
 ^bc IRoitb auD tbe Scutb. 271 
 
 tions with the border States in 1861. The theatre 
 of war was thrust further south. The possession 
 of Kentucky and Missouri enabled the northern 
 troops to block the entrance to the Tennessee and 
 to the Missouri Rivers ; and the military occupa- 
 tion of the border States, which were justly assumed 
 to be lukewarm in their support of the Union, 
 made it possible to return from those States mem- 
 bers of Congress who did not represent their peo- 
 ple ; thus was insured that compact majority in 
 Congress which supported the President, pressed 
 forward the war, urged through the constitutional 
 amendments, and completed the process of recon- 
 struction. When Virginia, in April, i86r, re- 
 sponded with a defiance to the President's call for 
 troops, she did it because she understood, as Von 
 Hoist has well said, that she belonged either to 
 hammer or anvil, and she preferred to strike rather 
 than to receive a blow. Though the secession of 
 Maryland, Kentucky, and Missouri was prevented, 
 those States could not remove the war from their 
 borders ; but their strength was lost to the weaker 
 party, if not wholly transferred to the stronger. 
 
 If, then, the South were to win, a numerical in- 
 feriority must be made up by a superiority of re- 
 sources ; but in wealth still more than in numbers 
 the South had lagged behind. Tn the seceding 
 States, 56,000,000 acres of land were improved, and 
 the total value of farm lands was ^ 1,85 0,000,000. 
 In the North and the border States the improved
 
 '2-T2. Bsaags on Goveinmcnt. 
 
 land was less than twice as great in area but its 
 value was $4,800,000,000, or more than two and a 
 half times as much. Throughout the South the 
 tillage was primitive and rude and most of it was 
 carried on by slave labor ; in the North, machinery 
 and improved processes made it possible to raise a 
 larger crop in proportion to the laborers employed. 
 Manufactures of every kind were wofully deficient 
 in the South. In a region including the enormous 
 coal and iron beds of Alabama and Georgia, one 
 of the richest deposits on the face of the earth, 
 there were but one modern blast furnace and ten 
 rail mills. To manufacture its great staple, cotton, 
 the South had but 150 factories, against more than 
 900 in the North, and the value of the manufactured 
 fabric of the South was but $8,000,000, in the 
 total of $1 15,000,000. Of the 1,260 woollen facto- 
 ries of the country, only 78 were in the South. 
 The manufacture of clothing, an essential industry 
 when war is going on, employed, in i860, less than 
 2,000 persons in the Southern States, and nearly 
 100,000 in the North. Of boots and shoes, the 
 South furnished but three per cent, of the product. 
 Well did the Lynchburg Virginian say : 
 
 " Dependent upon Europe and the North for 
 almost every yard of cloth, and every coat and 
 boot and hat that we wear, for our axes, scythes, 
 tubs, and buckets, in short, for everything except 
 our bread and meat, it must occur to the South 
 that if our relations with the North are ever sev-
 
 Zbc mortb aiiD tbc Soutb. 273 
 
 ered — and how soon they may be none can know ; 
 may God forbid it long! — we should, in all the 
 South, not be able to clothe ourselves ; we could 
 not fill our firesides, plough our fields, nor mow 
 our meadows ; in fact, we should be reduced to a 
 state more abject than we are willing to look at 
 even prospectively. And yet, all of these things 
 staring us in the face, we shut cwjr eyes and go in 
 blindfold." 
 
 The accumulated wealth of the two sections is 
 hard to estimate. The real estate of the South 
 was, in i860, valued at under $2,000,000,000 ; that 
 of the North at over $5,000,000,000. The personal 
 estate of each was returned at about $2,500,000,000 ; 
 but in the South that personalty consisted in great 
 part of slaves, a form of riches which proved to 
 have a singular aptitude for taking to itself wings 
 and flying away. Perhaps a better comparison of 
 wealth is that of imports ; in i860 the South im- 
 ported $31,000,000 worth of goods, and the North 
 $331,000,000 worth. 
 
 In modern warfare, however, credit is often as 
 valuable as property. Here again the South was 
 from the first in a position of inferiority. At the 
 beginning of the war the South had a banking 
 capital of $47,000,000 ; the North, of about $330,- 
 000,000. The accumulations of specie and of 
 stocks of goods in the South were probably not 
 one-seventh of those in the North. The very first 
 attempts to raise money on any considerable scale 
 showed the weakness of the South. The taxes 
 18
 
 2/4 Bssass on Government. 
 
 were rigorous and steadily increased, but the money 
 with which to pay them did not exist ; and pro- 
 vision for payment in kind was made at the very 
 beginning. Cotton and food products were the 
 usual legal-tender ; but at one time the women of 
 the South were called upon to subscribe their hair 
 to be sold for the support of the government, and 
 they responded in that spirit of heroic self-devotion 
 which marked the Southern women throughout 
 the struggle. It is impossible to give the figures 
 of the revenue or expenditure of the Confederate 
 Government after the first year of the war. It is 
 probable that in no year did the government re- 
 ceive in taxes and loans the equivalent of $ioo,- 
 000,000 in greenback currency ; while the North 
 in the year 1865 raised in taxes, $322,000,000, and 
 borrowed $1,472,000,000, a considerable part 
 abroad. Of the debt of the Confederacy it is 
 equally impossible to speak with accuracy. On 
 one occasion the Secretary of the Confederate 
 Treasury sent in to Congress a report in which he 
 stated the outstanding debt. The next day the 
 report was withdrawn because a trifling error in 
 the total had been discovered. The error was 
 $400,000,000; what the total must have been may 
 be left to the imagination. It is enough to say 
 that the resources of the country were drained for 
 the support of the government, that paper money 
 was floated until it would float no longer, until it 
 was signed in basketsfull by young ladies of good
 
 XLbc moitb anC» tbc Soutb. 275 
 
 family in Richmond, until post-office clerks re- 
 signed because they could no longer live on nine 
 thousand dollars a year. The popular state of 
 mind in regard to Southern finances is well stated 
 in a story related by a Confederate officer. A raw- 
 boned countryman was seen riding through the 
 camp upon a fine horse. An officer stopped him 
 and offered him five hundred dollars for the horse. 
 " What," said the man, "five hundred dollars for 
 that horse ? Five hundred dollars ! Why, I paid 
 a thousand dollars this morning for currying of 
 him." Mr. Eggleston relates that the highest 
 price he ever saw paid was five hundred dollars for 
 a pair of boots. After Lee's surrender, when no 
 amount of Confederate currency was of any value, 
 and greenbacks were hard to obtain, a Virginia 
 gentleman travelled a long distance with no other 
 funds than a keg of molasses : for entertainment or 
 ferriage, he simply opened the spigot and let a 
 sufficient quantity flow to pay his bill. 
 
 The poverty of the South, a poverty made more 
 unendurable by the rigorous blockade, bore es- 
 pecially hard in the matter of military supplies. 
 The one large iron works in the Confederacy, the 
 Tredegar, at Richmond, was run night and day to 
 supply materials. Arms, cannon, munitions could 
 be imported in limited quantities by the blockade 
 runners; clothing came in the same way; but 
 medical supplies, hospital comforts, even food, 
 were often lacking. According to a Confederate
 
 'Z']^ BssagB en ©ovcnimcnt. 
 
 officer, great was the joy expressed in the army 
 when, by a convenient obliquity of vision on the 
 part of General Butler, who commanded the Union 
 lines at that point, a cargo of Bermuda onions was 
 brought through the Union lines and issued to 
 Lee's army. 
 
 The North, on the other hand, was supplied 
 with all that a rich country could furnish, or that 
 money could buy in foreign countries. No army 
 in the history of the world was ever so well fed, 
 probably no army was ever so well clothed, as 
 that of the United States. No army has ever had 
 such a well-organized and devoted corps of men 
 and women to care for wounded and sick. And 
 when we consider, as we must with a shudder, the 
 sufferings of Northern soldiers in the Southern 
 prison pens, we must remember that, while the 
 worst horrors of their confinement were caused by 
 the deliberate neglect and brutality of those in 
 charge of their camps, their coarse food and 
 wretched clothing were often no worse than those 
 of the Southern troops in the front. 
 
 Yet there were still, after the surrender of Lee 
 and Johnston, many thousands of men under arms, 
 and a guerilla warfare would have been possible. 
 The Mississippi was ploughed from its source to 
 the sea by Northern steamers, yet the troops of 
 Arkansas, Texas, and Louisiana had still managed 
 to reach the main Confederate armies. Sherman 
 made his magnificent march from Atlanta to the
 
 ^bc IRoctb anJ> tbe Soutb. 277 
 
 sea, and the country closed behind him uncon- 
 quered and ungarrisoned. But the very magni- 
 tude of the efforts put forth by the South, con- 
 vinced it in 1865 that longer resistance was useless. 
 The true military reason for the collapse of the 
 Confederacy is to be found, not so much in the 
 fearful hammer-like blows of Thomas, Sherman, 
 and Grant, as in the efforts of an unseen enemy, 
 the ships of the blockading squadrons. Never in 
 the history of the world has a navy been called 
 upon to perform such a difficult and almost impos- 
 sible task as fell to the American Navy. A coast- 
 line of two thousand five hundred miles, with more 
 than thirty ports practicable for blockade runners, 
 was so sealed up that the South was thrown upon 
 its own resources. The struggle could not be pro- 
 longed, because the army could be neither fed nor 
 supplied from the cotton bales. The wealth of 
 the country went to waste because it could not be 
 exchanged for the foreign products essential for 
 the prosecution of the war. 
 
 The limited military resources of the South 
 were made less available because of the lack of 
 sufificient internal transportation. The water-ways, 
 both on the rivers and to the eastward, were early 
 occupied or blockaded by the North. Union troops 
 could be shipped from New York to Hampton 
 Roads, or to Florida, or to Mobile, or to New Or- 
 leans ; after the first months of the war no Con- 
 federate troops could be forwarded by sea. The
 
 2/8 lEssags on ©overnment. 
 
 country, therefore, was thrown upon its railroads. 
 These roads were few, improperly built, as had 
 been the case also in the North, and they steadily 
 deteriorated. When the rails wore out, new ones 
 could at last no longer be provided ; when loco- 
 motives broke down, unless a Northern prisoner 
 consented to repair them, there were often no 
 mechanics at hand. Important links, necessary to 
 complete the connection between the Southwest 
 and the coast were never built. The raids and 
 the lonsf marches at the end of the war so com- 
 pleted the ruin of the railroads that there was 
 practically nothing left of them but the road-beds. 
 Thus the Confederates, who in the first battle of 
 Bull Run were the first combatants in history to 
 reinforce an army in line of battle by means of a 
 railroad, were at the end often reduced to the 
 Southern " dirt roads," than which no highway can 
 be worse ; at the same time they saw their old rail- 
 roads, repaired and mended by Northern mechanics 
 under the protection of Northern troops, bringing 
 Northern armies down to complete their conquest. 
 A venerable though scarcely reverent proverb 
 assures us that God is on the side of the strongest 
 battalions. The battalions of the North, as we 
 have seen, were stronger than those of the South 
 in numbers, in resources, in military supplies, and 
 in means of communication. The Northern people 
 excelled in organization, were little, if at all, in- 
 ferior in military aptitude, and they were free
 
 Zbc novtb aiiD tbe Soutb. 279 
 
 from the weakening influence of slavery. If the 
 forces of the two sections were all drawn out and 
 employed, and if they were left to fight their 
 battles alone, the North must therefore in the end 
 be victorious. Moreover, the North had such a 
 large surplus of strength and resources that it 
 might do less than its utmost and still overpower 
 the South. The North never put forth quite its 
 full strength. The border States were throughout 
 the war occupied as advanced posts ; troops were 
 raised in them, but the people were never com- 
 pletely trusted ; when, after 1864, it was seen that 
 slavery was to be destroyed everywhere, and that 
 the compensation to their slaves once refused by 
 the border States, would not again be offered, those 
 States continued a source of weakness rather than 
 of strength. Throughout the Union, indeed, there 
 was opposition to the war or to the manner in 
 which it was carried on. As wise and self-sus- 
 tained a President as Lincoln felt unable to with- 
 stand the pressure to appoint officers for political 
 rather than for military reasons. 
 
 Nevertheless the v/ar period was a time of great 
 commercial and economic development. Farms 
 were being taken up in the West. From 1861 to 
 1865, 4,700,000 acres of the public domain passed 
 fr6m the ownership of the Government to that of 
 settlers. The railroads increased from 3 1,286 miles 
 to 35,085 miles, or one-eighth, during the four years 
 of war.
 
 28o Essays on ©overnnicnt. 
 
 Imports, which in all the United States, includ- 
 ing the seceding States, had been in i860, 362 mill- 
 ions, in 1864 were 329 millions for the loyal States 
 alone. The country presented the striking spec- 
 tacle of a nation advancing from year to year in 
 wealth and population, while fighting an expensive 
 and bloody war. The total number of enlistments 
 and re-enlistments in the North and border States 
 during the four years of the war, is stated at 2,859, 
 132, out of a total population of 22,000,000, and 
 out of a population of men between eighteen and 
 forty-five of 4,470,000. The greatest number under 
 arms at one time Vv^as 1,000,5 16, May i, 1865. The 
 enlistments in the South during the same period, 
 vv^ere possibly 1,200,000 of the total population. 
 Both sections put forth all the effort and sent for- 
 ward all the men that the country could be induced 
 to furnish ; but the South, because standing upon 
 the defensive, repelling invaders, and fighting for 
 independence, was able to call forth a degree of 
 sacrifice which no offensive war could have com- 
 manded. 
 
 From the middle of 1862, the Northern troops 
 were constantly pressing upon the South, and 
 occupying one belt of territory after another. The 
 result was a loss of a considerable portion of the 
 troops who might have been raised out of the 
 conquered regions. As grew the necessity for rais- 
 ing men, the circle narrowed out of which those 
 men could be raised ; and, as hope died out, men
 
 Zbe mortb aiiD tbe Soutb. 281 
 
 deserted by thousands, until in the last despairing 
 days of the Confederacy, President Davis and 
 General Lee agreed that the last possibility of 
 success was in arming the negroes^ and a company 
 of black convicts from the Richmond jails was 
 actually organized. 
 
 In the struggle between two powers, in which 
 one had such a superiority of numbers and of 
 resources, there was but one thing which could 
 give the South any hope. If the people were 
 superior in organization, in intelligence, in military 
 aptitude, in moral qualities, they might still stand 
 out against the overwhelming odds, and might se- 
 cure their independence. Many things in the po- 
 litical and social organization of the South adapted 
 it for war. In the first place the South had, or sup- 
 posed it had, able leaders, both civil and military. 
 Jefferson Davis, who was, almost without oppo- 
 sition, elected to be President of the Confederacy, 
 was a man of both civil and military experience. 
 As Secretary of War, under President Pierce, he 
 had been an excellent of^cial ; as a graduate of 
 West Point and an officer, he had seen active 
 service in the Mexican War. He believed, with 
 some reason, that he had distinct military genius. 
 In fact, it is related on Confederate authority that 
 Mrs, Davis once remarked of him that " Jeff had 
 but two faults; he preferred West Point graduates 
 and his first wife's relations." General Braxton 
 Bragg, who was defeated by Sherman at Mission
 
 282 lEssa^s on Government. 
 
 Ridcfe, was one of the first wife's relations. Davis 
 was believed in the South and abroad to be a 
 statesman of ability and of force. This reputation 
 he was unable to justify, because he was continu- 
 ally called upon to strain the powers of govern- 
 ment to their utmost limit, and perhaps a little 
 farther. When disasters came showering upon the 
 Confederacy, there was a natural tendency to hold 
 some one person responsible, and there was an 
 organized opposition against Davis, an opposition 
 represented by Pollard, who has done so much 
 through his " Lost Cause " to tincture the popular 
 impression of the Confederacy in the Civil War. 
 Stephens, as vice-president, and thus removed 
 from the active control of affairs, represented what 
 would have been called before the war a State 
 Rights tendency. The other civil leaders, with a 
 few exceptions, showed a singular incompetency. 
 It was remarked that the Confederate Congress was 
 a place for men to lose the reputation which they 
 had previously acquired in Washington. Presi- 
 dent Davis's Cabinet was made up in great part of 
 feeble or incapable men. One Secretary of War, 
 Mr. Sedden, excited great dissatisfaction because 
 it was found that he had fixed an official price 
 of forty dollars per bushel for wheat, and then 
 had sold his own wheat to the Government at 
 that enhanced price. In the subordinate de- 
 partments of Government, incapacity was almost 
 the rule. The commercial training of the North
 
 Zbe IWoitb anJ) tbe Soutb. 283 
 
 had raised up a race of capable young men accus- 
 tomed to business affairs. In every regiment 
 there could be found among the private soldiers 
 men who wrote good hands and could keep books, 
 and who were therefore drawn into the adjutant's 
 and commissariat's departments. In the South it 
 was difficult to find men capable of understanding 
 or of keeping accounts, and throughout the war 
 the commissariat was the most hopelessly insuffi- 
 cient of all the military departments. The result 
 was a waste of resource and effort. In the book 
 called the " Rebel War Clerk's Diary " and in 
 George Gary Eggleston's " Rebel's Recollections," 
 are recorded many entertaining and pathetic inci- 
 dents. Here is an example of the lack of organiza- 
 tion and business system. There was established 
 in Richmond a vexatious system of passports, 
 applying as well to civilians as to soldiers. It was 
 so administered as to cause delay and expense to 
 persons passing through the city on business for the 
 Government, but afforded no obstacle to spies and 
 illicit traders. Inquiry was finally made as to the 
 authority under which this system came to be 
 established, and when run to earth it appeared 
 that a secretary no longer in office had given an 
 order, which he had not ventured to commit to 
 writing. 
 
 " From the beginning to the end of the war," 
 says an officer, " the commissariat was just suf- 
 ficiently well-managed to keep the troops in a state
 
 284 JEssags on Government. 
 
 of semi-starvation. On one occasion the company 
 of artillery to which I was attached, lived for thir- 
 teen days in winter quarters on a daily dole of half 
 a pint of cornmeal per man, while food in abun- 
 dance was stored within five miles of its camp — a 
 railroad uniting the two places, and the wagons of 
 the battery being idle all the time." Nevertheless, 
 with all the defects of organization, the leaders 
 understood their people, and they were able to 
 call to their assistance all the military and intellect- 
 ual strength of the country. On the other hand, 
 the political system of the South had accustomed 
 the people to pay a deference to leaders unusual 
 in the North. The distinction of classes was such 
 that a rough but efficient military discipline was 
 possible. Between the civil and military leaders 
 there existed a far greater degree of harmony than 
 in the North. It was notorious that President 
 Davis disliked General Joe Johnston ; but, on the 
 other hand, from 1862 to 1865, while the army of 
 the Potomac fought under eight different com- 
 manders, the Southern Army of Virginia never 
 was removed from the command of Robert E. 
 Lee. 
 
 It is a remarkable fact that the Southern Con- 
 federacy, formed as a protest against the alleged 
 centralizing tendencies of the United States Gov- 
 ernment, suffered a greater degree of centralization 
 than its rival in Washington. The conscription 
 of troops was carried to such a degree that Gov-
 
 mK moitb aiiD the South. 285 
 
 ernor Brown of Georgia refused in set terms to 
 permit the Confederate recruiting officers to exer- 
 cise their functions within his State. In Decem- 
 ber, 1862, was made a /cvc'e en masse of the able- 
 bodied male population between the ages of 
 eighteen and forty-five. The familiar practice by 
 which, since the Civil War, men connected with 
 the Confederate Army have been preferred in the 
 elections in the South, is due not so much to a wish 
 to show them honor, as to the fact that almost 
 every man of any force of character was compelled 
 by public sentiment to enter the army. One rea- 
 son for the concentration of power in the Con- 
 federacy was that the Supreme Court, which was 
 to have formed a department of the Government, 
 was never organized. There was, therefore, no 
 legal check upon the Congress or the President. 
 Whatever the Confederacy contained in money, in 
 men, in supplies, in food, could be brought into 
 the service of the Government. 
 
 The internal workings of the Confederate Gov- 
 ernment were by no means smooth. Almost from 
 the beginning there was in Congress an organized 
 opposition to President Davis. As that body sat 
 usually in secret session, the details of the attacks 
 upon the President and his policy have not been 
 made public. But the following extract from 
 Pollard's " Lost Cause," the work of an editor of 
 the Richmond Examiner, shows the spirit of his 
 opponents toward the end of the war :
 
 286 B5oa\j5 on (government, 
 
 "The influence of President Davis was almost 
 entirely gone, and . . . the party which sup- 
 ported him was scarcely anything more than that 
 train of followers which always fawns on power 
 and lives on patronage . . . all the public 
 measures of Mr. Davis's administration had come 
 to be wrecks ... it was no longer possible to 
 dispute the question of maladministration." 
 
 A recent examination of the Confederate Jour- 
 nals of Congress, shows that President Davis in 
 his four years of service vetoed thirty-eight bills, of 
 which but one, an unimportant measure for the 
 forwarding of newspapers to the soldiers without 
 payment of postage, was passed over the veto. 
 During the same period of four years. President 
 Lincoln vetoed but three bills. 
 
 The relations between the Confederate Govern- 
 ment and the States were closer than between the 
 United States and its members. Almost the only 
 case of conflict between the Confederate and the 
 State authorities was the refusal of Governor 
 Brown to permit conscription in Georgia. There 
 are, however, two other interesting instances of local 
 opposition to Confederate authorities. Resolu- 
 tions were adopted in November, 1861, by the 
 people of Winston County, Alabama, setting forth 
 the fact that 515 Union men were still to be found 
 in that county against 128 "secessionists and legal 
 voters," of whom 70 were in the Confederate Army. 
 The Unionists still refused to assist the Confeder-
 
 Zbe mortF) aiiD tbc South. 287 
 
 acy, and were organized in military companies. A 
 much more amusing case is that of Jones County, 
 Mississippi. The 3,300 people of this county be- 
 came tired of the burdens of the Civil War, and by 
 a convention held in 1862 formally seceded from 
 the State and Confederacy : 
 
 "Whereas, the State of Mississippi, for reasons 
 which appear justifiable, has seen fit to withdraw 
 from the Federal Union, and whereas we, the 
 citizens of Jones County, claim the same right, 
 thinking our grievances are sufficient by reason of 
 an unjust law passed by the Confederate States of 
 America, forcing us to go to distant parts, etc., 
 etc. Therefore, be it resolved, that we sever the 
 union heretofore existing between Jones County 
 and the State of Mississippi, and proclaim our In- 
 dependence of the said State, and of the Con- 
 federate States of America- — and we solemnly 
 call upon Almighty God to witness and bless the 
 act." 
 
 A resolution offering their alliance to the United 
 States was not adopted. The sovereign nation of 
 Jones County with its president, cabinet. Congress, 
 code of laws, and conscription and confiscation acts 
 — nailed to trees, since there was no newspaper in 
 the commonwealth — was able for some time to 
 maintain itself in the midst of the swamps against 
 the troops sent to subdue it. Finally, by the aid 
 of field guns the infant commonwealth was over- 
 come and the authority of the Confederacy was re-
 
 2t>8 j£56ag6 on (Bovci-nniciit. 
 
 stored.* The swift and ruthless exercise of military 
 powers, wherever the Confederacy had authority, 
 is in striking contrast with the halting military 
 relations between the United States of America 
 and the States composing it. Among the Northern 
 States there were always unsettled questions of 
 the supply of troops and of the apportionment of 
 quotas. 
 
 As a military agent, then, the Southern Con- 
 federacy was decidedly superior to the Union ; and 
 this superiority was due in part to a habit of def- 
 erence and obedience to command uncommon to 
 the North, in part to the fact that the President 
 himself was a military man, in part to the arbitrary 
 character of the government, in part to the per- 
 sonal character and the permanence of the military 
 commanders. 
 
 This advantage was to a large degree offset by 
 the inferior intelligence of the rank and file of the 
 Confederate armies. Professor Hosmer, in the 
 title of one of his books, " The Thinking Bayonet," 
 suggests the essential of good military service. In 
 the ruder warfare of ancient and mediaeval times, 
 the strength of an army was the sum of the physi- 
 cal strength of its members ; since the introduc- 
 tion of long-range weapons, the efficiency of the 
 
 * This incident is related on the authority of the Magazine of 
 American History, October, i886 (vol. xvi., pp. 387-390). To a 
 criticism of the statement the autlior of this essay has replied in 
 the Nation of March 31, 1892 (vol. liv,, p. 245).
 
 XLbc novtb an^ tbe Soutb. 289 
 
 soldier depends not upon his ability to wield a two- 
 handed sword, but upon his ability to march, to 
 bear hardship, and to keep cool. Intelligent troops 
 have, therefore, a fundamental advantage over the 
 less intelligent, and in this respect the South was 
 from the beginning handicapped. The highest 
 classes in the South, and particularly the military 
 officers, were well educated. Jefferson in 1820 had 
 complained that " Harvard will still prime it over 
 us with her twenty professors," while Princeton 
 was half Virginian, and five hundred young men 
 were " at college in the North imbibing principles 
 contrary to those of their own country." The 
 sending of Southern young men of wealth to North- 
 ern colleges continued ; but the population from 
 which the rank and file of the Confederate Army 
 was taken was ignorant, and a large number were 
 illiterate. Of the 2,500,000 white persons above 
 the age of twenty in the South in i860, 412,256 
 could neither read nor write. Of 3,100 newspapers 
 and periodicals published in 1861, the South had 
 but 703. Nor was the deficiency in book educa- 
 tion atoned for by a larger experience of life. The 
 Southern soldiers had most of them spent their 
 lives within a radius of a few miles. They were 
 unaccustomed to variety, unable to endure violent 
 changes. It is a striking fact, attested by the 
 most trustworthy statistics, that the percentage of 
 Southern prisoners who died in the well-conducted 
 Northern prison of Elmira, was greater than the 
 19
 
 290 lEssags on Oovcnimcnt. 
 
 percentage of Northern prisoners who died in An- 
 derson ville. The reason for this difference, as 
 stated by surgeons who saw Northern and Southern 
 men in the same hospital wards, is simply that the 
 Southern men lacked the endurance possessed by 
 men more accustomed to change. One such sur- 
 geon is accustomed to say that no men habitually 
 fed on corn bread could compete with men habit- 
 ually fed on wheat bread. Differences of diet, of 
 habit, of climate, had tended to make out of the 
 South a race easily incited to the fiercest of rapid 
 effort, but which was less able to bear continuous 
 fighting and hardship. 
 
 The Southern leaders were, of course, aware of 
 the fact that their followers lacked education, but 
 they believed that they possessed a superior mili- 
 tary aptitude. At the beginning of the contest, 
 the South was able more quickly to raise and to 
 discipline troops, because the number of men ac- 
 customed to handle the gun was larger. The 
 troops for the Mexican War had been raised in 
 considerable part in the South, and the discipline 
 and experience of that contest were therefore 
 gained chiefly by the Confederacy. In officers the 
 South was as rich as the North, because the West 
 Point cadetships had been held almost in equal 
 number from the two sections, and the Southern- 
 ers who held them had been m.ore likely to con- 
 tinue in military service, and to gain promotion. 
 When the Civil War broke out, a large number of
 
 Zbc IRoitb anO tbe Soutb. 291 
 
 those officers surrendered to the authorities of the 
 Southern Confederacy the posts which they com- 
 manded. Albert Sidney Johnston, in command of 
 the post of San Francisco, sternly put aside all 
 suggestions that he should follow their example, 
 placed the post in the hands of an officer appointed 
 to succeed him, and then resigned his command 
 and entered the Confederate service. 
 
 The confidence of the officers in their material 
 was on the whole justified. An accurate compari- 
 son between the Northern and Southern volun- 
 teers is almost impossible, because their conditions 
 were never equalized. Clothe the Northern 
 soldier in the ragged butternut uniform, feed him 
 on irregular and insufficient rations, scantily pro- 
 vide him with tents and cooking utensils, and then 
 call upon him to face the Southern soldier, well 
 clothed, well housed, well fed, and followed by a 
 beneficent sanitary commission — and though the 
 Northern soldier under such conditions would have 
 fought well, he could not have fought better than 
 his Southern rivals. All military authorities unite 
 in their praise of that ill-uniformed and motley 
 army which cheerfully followed " Uncle Robert " 
 through the year 1864, in a campaign which they 
 themselves believed to be hopeless. More active 
 troops than " Stonewall Jackson's foot cavalry " 
 never surprised an enemy by their capacity to be 
 in two distant places on the same day. Braver 
 and more determined hearts never beat beneath
 
 292 jEssags on «3orcinment. 
 
 a uniform than those in Pickett's division in 
 the awful charge upon the Union lines at Get- 
 tysburg. What men could do with insufificient 
 food and material of war, the Southern troops 
 accomplished. 
 
 In one branch of the service the Confederates 
 were, until well into the war, decidedly superior. 
 Accustomed as the men of the South were to the 
 saddle, their cavalry was much more efficient until 
 Northern commanders like Charles Russell Lowell, 
 Wilson, and Sheridan learned the Southern tactics 
 from their opponents. The light cavalry, the eyes 
 of the army, which made bold dashes into the 
 Federal Territory, cut the communications of the 
 Federal armies, and threatened cities far removed 
 from the front — that light cavalry was at last suc- 
 cessfully imitated and repelled by Sheridan. 
 
 In considering the population of the Confeder- 
 ate States as compared with that of the Northern 
 States, we saw that it was about 9,000,000 to about 
 22,000,000. In that estimate we took no account 
 of the fact that of the able-bodied Southerners 
 more than one-third could not be accepted as sol- 
 diers. In the seceding States there were, in i860, 
 3,511,110 slaves, and 432,586 free colored persons, 
 making a total of 3,943,696 negroes. This leaves 
 5,447,219 white persons, of whom 1,064,193 were 
 of military age, to carry on a struggle with 18,825,- 
 275 white persons in the North, to whom it is fair 
 to add 2,650,243 in the border States — thus includ-
 
 Zbc mortb an£) tbc Soutb. 293 
 
 ing a military population of about 4,500,000. The 
 men of the South now know, as the men of the 
 North came to understand late in the war, and as 
 foreign observers like Cairnes had shown almost 
 before the war began, that the real contest was for 
 the perpetuation or the destruction of slavery ; yet 
 from the moment the first shot was fired on 
 Fort Sumter, to the surrender of the last com- 
 mand in 1865, that slavery for which the South 
 was half-unconsciously fighting was itself under- 
 mining and destroying the Confederacy. ' There 
 were many points of difference between the North 
 and South, there were many mutual accusations of 
 aggression and of bad faith. They all, however, 
 came down to the simple undeniable truth that the 
 North was opposed to slavery and meant to put 
 an end to it, wherever it could be reached ; that 
 the South accepted slavery as an inevitable insti- 
 tution, and would permit no interference, direct 
 or indirect. But for slavery, the question of seces- 
 sion and the right of secession could not have 
 come up ; but for slavery there could have been 
 no disposition to fire on Fort Sumter and no 
 necessity to defend it ; but for slavery the two 
 sections might have lived on with reasonable peace 
 and good feeling. When the war was once be- 
 gun, the Northern people realized, not that slav- 
 ery could be destroyed by war, but that the 
 war could be ended by destroying slavery. From 
 the time of the President's preliminary proclama-
 
 294 B60a\>0 on Government. 
 
 tion in September, 1862, it was evident that slav- 
 ery could be retained only by the success of the 
 South. For slavery as well as independence, the 
 South was fighting ; and slavery weakened every 
 blow that was struck and every arm that struck a 
 blow. To be sure, the South was able to enlist 
 almost the whole able-bodied white population, 
 because there was a population of slaves to till the 
 fields and perform necessary service. The slaves 
 assisted to construct fortifications and were useful 
 as body servants in campaigns ; but to put muskets 
 into their hands meant practically that they must 
 be freed. The contingency of slave insurrections 
 the Southern leaders did not fear, and the event 
 proved the justice of their confidence in the African 
 race. As a Southern speaker has said : " A single 
 brand flung into our houses would have caused 
 our armies to be dissolved — and not one Avas 
 flung." There appears to have been no case of a 
 serious slave rising in any part of the South, from 
 the beginning to the end of the Civil War. Yet 
 the slaves proved in other ways a distinct source of 
 weakness : wherever it was possible, and sometimes 
 in circumstances of great difficulty, they gave in- 
 formation to the Union troops ; they were our 
 friends, and almost our only friends, in a region of 
 the enemy. And although the slaves refused to 
 rise, they had no conscientious scruples against 
 running away. From the very beginning of the 
 Civil War, therefore, our commanders experienced
 
 ^be IWortb ajiD tbc Soutb. 295 
 
 the embarrassing presence in camp of negro refu- 
 gees, not only from the inside of the hostile lines, 
 but from the loyal residents of the border States. 
 To return them meant to give additional means to 
 our enemies; to retain them was an offence to our 
 Southern friends. It was the service of an Amer- 
 ican general, whom nature had endowed with 
 more wit than consistency, to dub this unfortunate 
 class "contraband of war." After a very few 
 months, fugitives were no longer returned either 
 to enemies or friends ; and almost every black 
 throughout the South knew that should he once 
 reach the Union lines he was practically free. 
 Out of the embarrassment caused by the presence 
 of these people, who had to be employed and often 
 to be fed at Government expense, there sprang a 
 measure which enabled the North in 1863-65 to 
 preserve that superiorit}^ of force which was neces- 
 sary in order to fight the war to the end. Of these 
 black refugees there were enlisted as soldiers no 
 less than 186,097 troops. They replaced North- 
 ern troops in garrison duty, they fought beside 
 them in the field, and when the United States 
 Government hesitated to squeeze out of reluctant 
 States the additional number of men necessary for 
 the reinforcement of its armies, those men were 
 found among the slaves of the Southern planters. 
 
 In still another sense slavery was the cause of 
 the military defeat of the South. We have al- 
 ready seen that the population of the North had
 
 2g6 jBB6n^6 on Oovcinmcnt. 
 
 received large accessions through immigration. 
 Those accessions were denied to the South chiefly 
 because of slavery. The total number of foreigners 
 found in the eleven seceding States is i860 was 
 about 233,000, of whom one-fourth were in New 
 Orleans. The man who crossed the ocean to find 
 more favorable conditions of life was not likely to 
 choose a settlement in a part of the country in 
 which labor was considered the mark of an inferi- 
 or. Still more were the material wealth and mili- 
 tary resources of the South diminished by slavery. 
 The land was not less fertile, but, as we have seen, 
 while the population of the slave States in 1869 
 was two-thirds that of the other States, their land 
 was worth but one-third as much as that of the 
 free States ; and the methods of agriculture which 
 impoverished the Southern lands and prevented 
 their development grew out of slavery. The staple 
 cotton crop was not cultivated merely because it 
 was easily sold. It was cultivated because it was 
 profitable to raise it by large gangs of ignorant 
 men. Manufactures were ignored, not because 
 Southerners did not appreciate their importance, 
 but because it was impossible to carry them on 
 efificiently or profitably with slave labor. The im- 
 ports of the country were small, not merely be- 
 cause it was poor, but because so large a por- 
 tion of the population was legally disqualified 
 from buying anything for itself. The accumula- 
 tions of capital were small because the system of
 
 ^be mortb aiiD the Soutb. 297 
 
 slave labor failed to encourage the savings and the 
 investments which made the wealth of the North. 
 The inefficient management of the financial affairs 
 of the Confederacy was due in great part to the 
 want of training in business habits, a result of the 
 primitive methods of agriculture and of transit. 
 The inability to keep up the railroads and to deal 
 with sudden emergencies in time of war, the in- 
 feriority in bridge-building and in ship-building — 
 all these were due, in great part, to the fact that 
 the South had for more than three-quarters of a 
 century deliberately chosen a system of slavery, 
 while the neighboring States had deliberately 
 chosen a system of freedom. 
 
 It is the favorite theory of political writers that 
 there was in 1S60 a distinct difference between 
 Northern and Southern character, arising out of 
 the fact that the dominant element in the North 
 was descended from the Puritan, and in the South 
 was descended from the Cavalier. It is now 
 established that no such difference of origin can be 
 proven. The Virginian and the Maryland planters, 
 the New Jersey Quakers, and the Connecticut and 
 Massachusetts settlers sprang from the same class 
 in England. The elements chiefly represented in 
 all the colonies at the time of their foundation 
 w^ere the intelligent yeomanry and small land- 
 owners. The aristocracy of which the South 
 boasted so much was not descended from the 
 younger or the older sons of English men of rank ;
 
 298 :iE00as0 on (Boveiuinent. 
 
 it was made up of the sons and grandsons and 
 great-grandsons of those planters who were the 
 first by their shrewdness and energy to acquire 
 large landed estates. The climate had brought 
 about some changes, and in the South there had 
 been developed a class of small landowners, the so- 
 called poor whites, who had but little improved 
 during the century previous to the Civil War, 
 The original bases of the white population were, 
 however, the same. The great and fundamental 
 difference between the sections was that in one of 
 them the presence of a dependent race, and still 
 more the existence of human slavery, had affected 
 the social and the economic life of the people ; 
 that the productive energies of the North were 
 employed while those of the South were dormant. 
 The iron, the coal, the lumber, and the grain of 
 the North were drawn out by the intelligent com- 
 bination of the labor of the whole people; while 
 in the South they remained undeveloped because 
 it seemed to the commercial interest of the large 
 landowners to perpetuate a system of agriculture 
 founded on African slavery. For this mistake, for 
 this preference for a system which had been aban- 
 doned by all other nations of the Teutonic race, the 
 South paid a fearful penalty in the Civil War. 
 Slavery had enfeebled the defenders of slavery, 
 and they and the institution which they strove to 
 protect fell together.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 ABS 
 
 ABSTENTION from voting, actual 
 proportion, 30, 33 ; reasons, 30- 
 32, 47-52 ; proper remedy, 53. 
 
 Accomac County, of Virginia, 147. 
 
 Act of Congress, biography of, 206-232. 
 
 Adams, John Quincy, attempts to cen- 
 sure. :2 ; choice as President, 72. 
 
 Adams, Sam, moderator in Boston, 
 139 ; as a committee member, 141 ; 
 a political leader, 144. 
 
 Agricultural colleges, 245. 
 
 Alabama, county government in, 147 ; 
 land grant to, 248 ; Union men in, 
 286. 
 
 Alaska, area, 235 ; land in. 236. 
 
 Aliens, men in the United States, 25 ; 
 admitted to the suffrage, 64. 
 
 Alien voters, proportion of, 27. 
 
 Allen, Rev. Thomas, influence in town 
 meeting, 144. 
 
 Altoona, causes of growth, 172. 
 
 Amendments, bills in Congress, 214- 
 220. 
 
 America, attitude of United States 
 toward, 99-100. 
 
 Anderson, Mr., a filibusterer, 216. 
 
 Annexatiom of territory, 235, 238, 242 ; 
 area, 255. 
 
 Appointments, effect of political, 82 ; 
 President's desire for good adminis- 
 tration, 83 : desire to gratify friends, 
 84 : imbedded in the Constitution, 
 
 89- . . 
 
 Appropriations, committee on, 209 ; 
 estimates for, 209 ; in a lump sum, 
 216. 
 
 Arkansas, aids Confederacy, 276. 
 
 Army, in Civil War. -SVt" The United 
 States 
 
 Army, officers permanent, 90 ; enlist- 
 ments, 286 ; officers, resignations, 
 290, 291. 
 
 BEL 
 
 Arthur, President, bills presented to, 
 6 ; question of place of birth, 68 ; 
 commission to Latin - American 
 states, 104. 
 
 Athens, choice of site, 164, 165. 
 
 Atlanta, foreign population in, 191 ; 
 captured, 264-266. 
 
 Australia, cities in, 185. 
 
 Australian Ballot, applied to the suf- 
 frage, 32. 
 
 BALLOT, not a talisman, 39 ; in 
 colonial town meeting, 141. 
 
 Balmaceda, President, quarrel with 
 Chilean Congress, 106 ; character of, 
 107 : friendly toward Egan, 109 ; 
 interest iu sub-marine cable, no: 
 notified of Congressionalists' landmg, 
 112; asks favors of the United States, 
 114 ; refuge of, 118. 
 
 Baltimore, choice of site, 166, 167 ; 
 reasons for growth, 168 ; railroad to, 
 168 ; immigrants land, 172 : early 
 railroad, 178 ; rival of Boston, 187 ; 
 foreigners in, 193 ; negroes, 193 ; 
 native white population, 193 ; origin 
 of urban population, 203 ; derivation 
 of foreigners, 204 ; foreign popula- 
 tion, 269. 
 
 Baltimore, United States ship of war, 
 assault on sailors of, 99 ; sailors at- 
 tacked at Valparaiso, 115 ; delay in 
 investigation, 123. 
 
 Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, 168. 
 
 Barrundia, cases of, 120. 
 
 Bayard, Secretary, on Bering Sea, 
 129. 
 
 Bay City, foreign population in, 191. 
 
 Belize, English claim to, 131. 
 
 Bellingham, Mass., proposition for 
 county councils, 155. 
 
 (299)
 
 300 
 
 1[n^eJ. 
 
 bp:r 
 
 Bering Sea, cabinet controversy on, 
 129. 
 
 Berkshire County, belligerent action of, 
 160. 
 
 Bibliography of compulsory voting, 21. 
 
 Bibliography of the suffrage, 23-32. 
 
 Bill, biography of, 206-232 ; in Con- 
 gress (see River and Harbor Bill) ; 
 title of, 213. 
 
 Bills, submitted to the President, 5 ; 
 signed in the last days of the ses- 
 sion. 6 ; reported by committees, 
 6-9. 
 
 Blaine, Secretary, anxious to address 
 Congress, 4 ; James G., candidate 
 for presidency, 12 : speeches during 
 campaign, 60 ; effect of Mugwump 
 vote on, 76 : action toward Chile, 
 iot ; character of, 107 ; disavows 
 Commander Evans, 113 ; on the New 
 Orleans massacres, 116 ; forbear- 
 ance for Chile, 117 ; attitude toward 
 Chilean refugees, 120 ; attitude tow- 
 ard Malta's circular, 122 ; hint as 
 to Egan, 125 ; overruled as to Chile, 
 127. 
 
 Blair, Senator, on civil service reform, 
 81. 
 
 Bliicher, opinion of London, 164. 
 
 Bohemians, in cities, 193. 
 
 Border States. See States. 
 
 Boston, vote in municipal elections, 36 ; 
 votes in town meeting, 45 ; vote tab- 
 ulated, 54 ; colonial town meeting m, 
 133 ; town meeting, frequency, 134 ; 
 suffrage in, 137 ; place of assem- 
 blage, 138 ; moderators, 139 ; length, 
 140; ballot stuffing, 141 ; political 
 functions, 146 ; town meeting, place 
 of assemblage, 138 ; reasons for 
 growth, 168 ; railroads late, 178 ; fut- 
 ure of, 189 ; colored quarters in, 
 200 ; choice of site, 166 ; good har- 
 bor, 167 ; dependent on the West, 
 169 ; port for immigranls, 171 ; 
 parks, 174 ; popular government in, 
 174 ; effect of State legislature, 175 ; 
 reasons for growth, 180; rivalry with 
 Baltimore, 187 ; proportion of foreign- 
 ers, 191 ; immigrants from other 
 parts of the United States, 194 ; ex- 
 cess of adult foreigners, 196; excess 
 of adults, 197 ; excess of women, 199; 
 foreign population in, 204 ; status 
 of population in 1885, 205 ; origin of 
 urban population, 203 ; derivation of 
 foreign population, 204. 
 
 Bragg, Braxton, connection with Da- 
 vis, 281. 
 
 CHI 
 
 Bribery, effect of compulsory voting, 
 50 ; in presidential elections, 61. 
 
 Bright, John, supports the North, 260. 
 
 British Americans, in cities, 204. 
 
 Brockton, population, 189. 
 
 Brooklyn, how fed, 169 ; adjunct of 
 New York, 180 ; comparative popu- 
 lation, 184 ; foreign population in. 
 
 Brown, Admiral, connection with at- 
 tack on Santiago, 112 ; his explana- 
 tion, 113. 
 
 Brown, B. Grat2, in presidential elec- 
 tion of 1872, 69. 
 
 Brown, Governor, quarrel with Davis, 
 285-286. 
 
 Buchanan, James, not renominated, 
 59 : a minority President, 74. 
 
 Buffalo, choice of site, 166 ; foreign 
 population in, 191-193. 
 
 Bull Run, Battle of, 262, 278. 
 
 Burr, election of as Vice-President, 67 
 
 -71- , . . 
 
 Butler, gap in his lines, 276. 
 
 CABINET, in England, 1-3 ; in the 
 United States, 4; attempts to 
 address Congress, 4 ; members urge 
 bills before committees, 9 ; bellig- 
 erency of, 129 ; of Southern Con- 
 federacy, 282. 
 
 Cairne.s, supports the North, 260. 
 
 Cairo, a decaying town, 177. 
 
 Calhoun, advocates railroads, 178. 
 
 California, vote in 1880, 80 ; annexa- 
 tion of. 104 : title to, 235 ; private 
 land claims, 238. 
 
 Cambridge, foreign population in, 191. 
 
 Campaign, presidential, 58 ; work of 
 the national committee, 60. 
 
 Canada, railroad connections, 188. 
 
 Canadian immigrants to United 
 States, 193. 
 
 Canal, Erie, 168. 
 
 Canals, land grants for, 248. 
 
 Carlisle, Speaker, refuses to recognize 
 a member, 13-14. 
 
 Cavalier element in Colonies, 297. 
 
 Census of 1890, accuracy questioned, 
 
 25- 
 
 Charleston, site of, 167 ; reasons for 
 growth, 168; excess of negroes, 194. 
 
 Charters, cities. See Cities. 
 
 Chicago, choice of site, 166 ; a trade 
 centre, 169 ; park system, 174 ; at 
 head of navigation, 179 ; reasons for 
 growth, 181 : rapid growth, 187 ; 
 foreign population, 191 ; total for- 
 eigners, 192; Germans, 192; Poles,
 
 IfuDej. 
 
 301 
 
 CHI 
 
 193 ; immigration from other parts of 
 the United States, 194 ; origin of 
 urban population, 203 ; foreigners in, 
 204. 
 
 Chile, controversy with, 98-132 ; apol- 
 ogizes, 99 ; war talk toward, 99 ; co- 
 lonial, loi ; dispute with Peru, 102 ; 
 compared with the United States, 
 101-103 ; geographical and economic 
 situation of, 103 ; changes in, since 
 l88i, 105; revolution in, 106 ; Presi- 
 dent of. 107; Egan appointed minis- 
 ter to, 107 ; expected success of 
 Balmaceda, 110 ; difficulties with 
 the United States, m ; controversy 
 with Commander Evans, 113 ; 
 change in foreign department, 115 ; 
 mob in Valparaiso, 115 ; diplomacy 
 of delay, 116 ; question of the refu- 
 gees, 117 ; exasperation over the 
 refugees, 118; hesitation to apologize, 
 123 ; apology by, 124 ; apology un- 
 satisfactorj', 125 ; war threatened by 
 the United States. 126; final apol- 
 ogy, 127 ; insolent tone, 128 : resent- 
 ment toward the Ignited States, 130. 
 
 Chinese, exclusion from suffrage, 24, 
 25 ; cannot be naturalized, 26 : letter 
 on labor, 79 ; distribution in cities, 
 192. 
 
 Choice of colonial officers, 145. 
 
 Cincinnati, foreign population in, 191, 
 192 ; origin of urban population, 
 203 ; derivation of foreigners, 204. 
 
 Cities, American, rise of, 162-205 : 
 government of, 162 ; rapid growth 
 of, 163 ; meaning of the term, 163 ; 
 not defensible, 164 : situated on 
 rivers, 165 ; situated on harbors, 
 166 ; connection with interior. 168 ; 
 trade centres, 169 ; manufacturing, 
 170 ; influence of water powers, 
 
 170 ; advantages of coast cities, 
 
 171 ; advantages of nearness to 
 minerals, 172 ; efiect of water sup- 
 ply> 173 ; effect of parks, 173 ; 
 not units of political life, 174 ; effect 
 of State control, 174 ; tend to drain 
 the country, 175 ; capitals, 176 ; in- 
 fluence of railroads on, 177 ; influence 
 of colonization, 179; illustrations of 
 causes of growth, 179-182; number, 
 182 ; size, 183 ; average size, 183 ; 
 geographical distribution, 184 ; per- 
 centage of urban population, 185 ; 
 comparative growth of great cities, 
 186-188 ; stationary, 189 ; unfavor- 
 able effect of rapid growth, 189 ; 
 sources of population, igo ; foreign 
 
 COM 
 
 population, 190-193 : negro popu- 
 lation, 193 ; immigrants from other 
 parts of the United States, 194, 195 ; 
 effect of this influence, 195 ; many 
 dominated by foreigners, 196 ; dis- 
 tribution by ages, 197; effect of im- 
 migration, 198 ; excess of women, 
 199 ; effect in education, 200 ; negro 
 quarters, 200 ; future of cities, 201 ; 
 tables illustrating, 202-205. 
 Citizenship, a qualification for suffrage, 
 
 Civil -Service, number of government 
 servants, 82 ; expense of. 93. 
 
 Civil Service Commission, work of, 88 ; 
 examinations under, 94 ; respected, 
 
 .97- 
 
 Civil Service Reform, discussion of, 
 81-97 ; prospects for the future, 96. 
 
 Civil Service Reform Act of 1883, 83. 
 
 Civil War, strengthens Congress, 12 ; 
 effect on cities, 183. 
 
 Clay, Henry, part in debate, 15. 
 
 Cleveland, choice of site, 166 ; foreign 
 population in, 191-193. 
 
 Cleveland, many bills presented to, 
 5, 6 ; elected Governor, 51 ; speeches 
 during campaign, 60; a minority 
 President, 74; on the Bering Sea, 
 129; on River and Harbor Bills, 
 231. 
 
 Coal, effect of cheap, 167-169. 
 
 Colfax, Speaker, made Vice-President, 
 
 12. 
 
 Colleges, agricultural, 245. 
 
 Colonies, compulsory voting in, 40-44 ; 
 town meeting in, 133-146 ; influence 
 of office-holders, 143 ; choice of town 
 officers, 145 ; the shire in, 147, i6i ; 
 unsuccessful city planters, 179. 
 
 Columbian Exposition, 182. 
 
 Columbus, foundation of, 176. 
 
 Commerce, House Committee, 209 ; 
 Senate Committee, 218. 
 
 Committee, on Rules, 16 ; discussion 
 in, 207 ; on Appropriations, 209 ; on 
 Commerce, 209 ; of the Whole, 215. 
 
 Committee system, advantages of, 8. 
 
 Committees, chairmen of, 7 ; strife be- 
 tween, 8 ; relations with Cabinet 
 ministers. 9 ; bills strangled by, 9 ; 
 arrange details, 9 ; at first chosen 
 by ballot, 10 ; appointed by the 
 Speaker, 10 ; in colonial town meet- 
 ing, 141 ; in town affairs, 145 : on 
 Rivers and Harbors, 209 ; strife for 
 the floor, 214, 215 
 
 Committees of the House, early stand- 
 ing committees, 6 ; increasing, 7.
 
 302 
 
 flnDej. 
 
 COM 
 
 Commons, English House of, leader- 
 ship in, 2 ; vote of want of confidence 
 iu, 3. 
 
 Compulsory voting, suggestion of, 21, 
 22 ; probable effect, 22 ; false princi- 
 ple of, 39 ; colonial instances, 40-44 ; 
 penalty of jury duty, 46. 
 
 Confederacy, Southern. See Southern 
 Confederacy. 
 
 Confederation, committee system in, 
 6 ; land policy, 236. 
 
 Conference Committee, in Congress, 
 218-222 ; report, 221. 
 
 Congress, no power over President, 4 ; 
 subject to public opinion, 21 , circu- 
 lation of books by, 61 ; not permitted 
 to elect President, 72 ; elections to, 
 78 ; influence on appointments, 84 ; 
 public spirit of members, 85 ; attitude 
 'to civil service reform, 86; rapid 
 changes in, 91 ; Pan-American, 104; 
 quarrel with Balmaceda, 106 : of 
 Chile, takes Santiago, iii ; political 
 forces in, 206 ; records of, 207 ; ap- 
 propriation bills, 208 ; committee of, 
 209 : relations with departments, 210; 
 interest of members, 211 ; filibuster- 
 ing, 216 ; practice on appropriations, 
 218 ; conference, 219 ; interference 
 with administration, 229 ; neglect of 
 land question, 253. 
 
 Congressional system of government, 
 3-10. 
 
 Congressionalist refugees, 117. 
 
 Connecticut, educational qualification, 
 29 ; vote in, 35 : change in legisla- 
 ture, 90; reservation, 237 ; land ces- 
 sion, 237 ; sources of population, 287. 
 
 Connecticut River, water powers on, 
 
 Constantinople, choice of site. 165. 
 
 Continental Congress, committee sys- 
 tem in, 6. 
 
 Corn crop, 264. 
 
 Cotton, crop, 264 ; factories, 272 ; taxes 
 paid in, 274 ; was it profitable? 296. 
 
 Counties, officers in, 147 ; types of gov- 
 ernment, 147, 150: prototype in 
 England, 148 ; Virginia shires, 148 ; 
 local subdivisions, 148 ; assembly 
 in, 149; conditions of colonial coun- 
 ties, 149 ; Virginia, compared with 
 New England, 150 ; experiments in 
 Virginia, 150; New England type, 
 150 ; New York type, 151 ; Pennsyl- 
 vania type, 151 ; Virginia type, 151 ; 
 number, 152 ; controlled by colonial 
 authorities, 153; few elective officers, 
 153 ; choice of members of assemblies. 
 
 EGA 
 
 154 ; supervisors, 154 ; suggestion in 
 Massachusetts, 155 ; officers, 155 ; 
 commissioners, 156 ; Court of Ses- 
 sions, 156 ; County Court, 156 ; mem- 
 bers of County Court, 156 ; appoint- 
 ment of, 157 ; powers of County 
 Court, 158 ; County Courts in New 
 England, 159 ; judicial functions, 
 
 155 ; administrative functions, 159 ; 
 legislative functions, 159 ; effect on 
 the Revolution. 160 ; piesent status, 
 160 ; location of county seats, 177. 
 
 Court, County. See Counties. 
 Criminals, excluded from the suffrage, 
 
 28. 
 Critics, political, service of, 20. 
 Cuba, designs on, 104. 
 Cumberland, causes of growth, 172. 
 Cumberland Road, construction, 247. 
 Curtis, George William, on civil service 
 
 reform, 81. 
 
 DAVIS, JEFFERSON, expects 
 success, 259 : has made a nation, 
 
 260 : on negro troops, 281 ; military 
 
 ability, 281 ; disliked Johnston, 284 ; 
 
 strictures by Pollard, 285 ; vetoes, 
 
 286. 
 Declaration of Intention, suflrage un- 
 der, 26. 
 Delaware, property qualification, 28 ; 
 
 a Slave State, 271. 
 Departments of national government, 
 
 civil service in, 84. 
 Desert lands, 251. 
 
 Detroit, foreign population in, 191, 1-92. 
 Dill, George, fined by the County 
 
 Court, 158. 
 Dogs, legislation in Ipswich, 144. 
 Domain, public. See Public Lands. 
 " Donations" of public lands, 243. 
 Duluth, choice of site, 166 ; at head of 
 
 navigation, 179 ; foreign population, 
 
 in, 191. 
 Dunkirk, city, 178. 
 
 EASTERN SHORE, of Virginia, 
 147. 
 
 Education, reservation of lands, 245 ; 
 land grants, inefficacy of, 246 ; in 
 the South, 288. 
 
 Egan, Patrick, character of, 107 ; ap- 
 pointed minister to Chile, 108 ; sym- 
 pathy with Balmaceda, 109 ; action 
 on cable controversy, in ; relation 
 to Balmaceda, 113 : question of the 
 refugees, 117; coolness of, 117; re- 
 fuses to dismiss refugees, 118 : dis- 
 courteous despatch, 119; Malta's
 
 IFnDcj. 
 
 303 
 
 ELE 
 
 attack on, 122 ; renewed controversy 
 \Vth Matta, 123 ; withdrawal asked, 
 125 ; withdrawal refused, 125 ; re- 
 quest for recall withdrawn, 127 ; 
 controlled from Washington, 130. 
 
 Election of President, details by State 
 legislature, 65 : day of election, 65 ; 
 decision of contests, 70 ; of 1788, 75 ; 
 of 1820, 76 ; of 1824, 77 ; of 1844, 
 74-75 ; of 1848, 74 ; of 1856, 74 ; of 
 
 ■ i860, 74-77 ; of 1864, 76 ; of 1872, 
 76 ; of 1876, 75 ; of 1880, 74-77, 79 ; 
 of 1884, 74-76; of 1888, 74; of 1892, 
 
 74-75, 77- 
 
 Elections, control of by Congress, 65 ; 
 control of by States, 65. 
 
 Elections in town meeting;, 137, 145. 
 
 Electoral Colleges, the, 67. 
 
 Electoral Commission of 1876, 71. 
 
 Electors, for President, 66 ; always 
 pledged, 67 ; vote as directed, 69. 
 
 Engineers. See War, Secretary of. 
 
 England, Parliamentary system, 1-3 ; 
 American ministers to, 108 ; relations 
 with Chile, 108 ; diplomacy in, 128 ; 
 unpopularity of, 130 ; county gov- 
 ernment in, 148-152; definition of a 
 city in, 163 ; interest in Civil War, 
 261. 
 
 English, immigrants to United States, 
 192 ; in New York, 199 ; in cities, 
 204. 
 
 Erie Canal, 168 ; western terminus, 
 181. 
 
 Evans, Commander, quarrel with Chil- 
 ean minister, 113 ; not disavowed, 
 127. 
 
 Examinations, as tests for candidates. 
 See Appointment, Civil Service Re- 
 form, Removal. 
 
 Exclusions from suffrage, non-natural- 
 ized persons, 26 ; paupers, 28 ; tax 
 qualification, 28. 
 
 Expenditures. See Appropriations. 
 
 FALL RIVER, growth of. 171 ; 
 foreign population in, 191. 
 Faneuil Hall, place of town meetings, 
 
 .1.38- 
 Filibustering in Congress, 216. 
 Finances, importance in New York 
 
 City, 179. 
 Florida, property qualification, 28 ; 
 
 internal improvements in, 228 ; area, 
 
 235 ; private land claims, 238. 
 Force Bill, an election act, 65. 
 Fortification, lack of in United States. 
 
 165. 
 Port Sumter, fired on, 263, 293. 
 
 HAY 
 
 Fo.\ River, improvement of, 227. 
 
 France, President controlled by legis- 
 lature. 73 ; frontier controversy with 
 Germany, 98 ; warned to leave Mex- 
 ico, 104 ; interest in Civil War, 261. 
 
 Fraud, in elections, 61-75 i effect of 
 pure civil service on, 95. 
 
 Freemen, (jf the colony, 136. 
 
 French, in American cities, 192. 
 
 Frelinghuysen, Secretary, attitude on 
 Peruvian question, 105. 
 
 GARFIELD, JAMES A., a minor- 
 ity President, 74 ; effect of Morey 
 forgery, 79 ; action toward Chile, 
 105. 
 
 Georgia, compulsory voting in, 42 ; 
 land cession of, 236. 
 
 Germans, enjoy naturalization, 25 ; in 
 American cities, 192, 204 ; in New 
 York, 198. 
 
 Germany, interest in elections, 30 ; 
 militia service m. 38 ; frontier con- 
 troversy with France, 98 ; the " war- 
 lord " of, lOI. 
 
 Gladstone, on Jefferson Davis, 260. 
 
 Graduated lands, 240. 
 
 Grant, U. S., large popular majority, 
 74 ; campaign against Lee, 262. 
 
 Greeley, Horace, in presidential elec- 
 tion of 1872, 69. 
 
 Green River, improvements, 218, 220. 
 
 HAMILTON, ALEXANDER, eli- 
 gible for presidency, 68 ; out- 
 wits Jefferson, 176. 
 
 Hancock, John, moderator iti Boston, 
 139 ; demagoguism, 143. 
 
 Harbors, advantage of, 167-169 ; in 
 Civil War. 265 : legislation on. See 
 River and Harbor Bill. 
 
 Harrisburg, foundation of, 176. 
 
 Harrison, Benjamin, a minority Presi- 
 dent, 74 ; on civil service reform, 81 ; 
 message on Chilean affairs, 99 ; on 
 the neutrality of the United States 
 toward Chile, 109 ; message irritates 
 Matta, 121 ; Matta's attack on, 122 ; 
 on the Baltimore investigation, 123; 
 on the Chilean controversy, 123 ; bel- 
 ligerent message on Chile, 126; in- 
 fluence on Chilean dispute, 127 ; un- 
 necessarily humiliates Chile, 130. 
 
 Harrison, William Henry, speeches 
 during campaign. 60. 
 
 Harvard, Jefferson's complaint, 289. 
 
 Hayes, President, bills presented to, 
 6 ; not renominated, 59 ; a minority 
 President, 74.
 
 304 
 
 UnDcj. 
 
 HEN 
 
 Hennepin Canal, 218, 220, 229. 
 
 Hill, David B., suggestion of compul- 
 sory voting, 21. 
 
 Hoar, George F., on River and Har- 
 bor Bills. 2^2. 
 
 Holland, achieves independence, 261. 
 
 Holmes, Mister, makes Mister Jones 
 swear, 158. 
 
 Holyoke, foreign population in, 191. 
 
 Homestead System, 240-244 ; restric- 
 tion, 252. 
 
 House of Commons, system of leader- 
 ship, 2. 
 
 House of Representatives, Speaker of, 
 I ; number of members, 5 ; commit- 
 tees in, 6-7 ; struggle for the floor, 8 ; 
 election to in Virginia, 44 ; power in 
 presidential elections, 70 ; elections 
 to, 78-79 ; legislative influence, 207 ; 
 River and Harbor Committee, 209 ; 
 appropriation bills in, 213 ; strife of 
 committees, 214 ; filibustering, 216; 
 previous question, 217; conference 
 committees, 219 ; yields to Senate 
 on appropriations, 222. 
 
 Hiuigarians in cities, 193. 
 
 Hurlburt, minister to Peru, 105. 
 
 ILLINOIS, delinquent voters made 
 jurors, 46 ; disturbance of par- 
 ties, 77 ; counties of, 152 ; land 
 grant to, 248 ; illiterate persons 
 excluded from the suffrage, 29. 
 
 Immigration, places of landing, 171 ; 
 in cities, 190-193 ; to the South, 
 296. 
 
 Indiana, large proportion of naturaliza- 
 tions, 25 importance in presiden- 
 tial elections, 63 : an October State, 
 66 : State capital of. 177. 
 
 Indianapolis, causes of growth, 177. 
 
 Indians, defence against, 158 : right 
 of occupancy, 238 ; money payment 
 to. 242 : reservations, 250. 
 
 Indian Territory, land in, 236. 
 
 Insane persons excluded from the 
 suffrage, 28. 
 
 Internal improvements, gifts to States, 
 245, 247, 248 : gifts to corporations, 
 248 ; table of grants, 256. 
 
 Iowa, vote in, 48 : permanence of par- 
 ties in, 77 ; internal improvements 
 in, 228. 
 
 Ipswich, legislation against dogs, 144 ; 
 vote on rights of the Colonies, 146. 
 
 Iquique, cable cut at, in. 
 
 Irish, enjoy naturalization, 25 ; in 
 American cities, 192 ; in New York, 
 198 ; in cities, 204. 
 
 LEG 
 
 Italians, in cities, 193. 
 Itata, steamer, pursuit of, no ; effect 
 of, 116. 
 
 JACKSON, effect on civil service, 
 90; military ability, 291. 
 
 Jefferson, election of, 67-71 ; out- 
 witted by Hamilton, 176 ; on public 
 lands, 241. 
 
 Jeflerson City, foundation of, 176. 
 
 Jenckes, Mr., urges civil service re- 
 form, 82. 
 
 Jersey City, adjunct of New York, 180. 
 
 Jerusalem, choice of site. 165. 
 
 Johnson, R. M., chosen Vice-Presi- 
 dent by Senate, 72 
 
 Johnston, Albert Sidney, resigns, 291. 
 
 Johnston, Joe, disliked by Davis, 
 284. 
 
 Johnston, William, refuses to sit in 
 Comity Court, 157. 
 
 Jones County, Miss., 287. 
 
 Judiciary, elective in .States, go. 
 
 Jury Duty, as penalty for not voting, 
 46. 
 
 KANSAS, disturbance of parties, 
 77 ; county seats in, 177. 
 Kansas Citj', growth of, i6g, 188. 
 Kentucky, counties of, 160 ; a Slave 
 
 State, 271. 
 Knights of the Shire, in E.igland, 149. 
 Kno,\', General, speaks in the Senate, 
 4- 
 
 LABOR CANDIDATES, 77- 
 Lafayette, gift of land to, 243. 
 
 Lancaster, Mass., compulsory voting 
 in, 40-41 ; penalty for failing to 
 vote, 52 ; excludes William Lincoln, 
 137 ; vote on the road, 139 ; quarrel 
 over meeting-house site, 142. 
 
 Land, gifts of, 244 ; value of in 1861, 
 271-273. 
 
 Lands. See Public Lands. 
 
 Latin America, l^ee Chile, Mexico, 
 Pan-American Congress. 
 
 Latin Anieiicans, achieve indepen- 
 dence, 261. 
 
 Latin races, in cities, 204. 
 
 J^awrence, a manufacturing city, 170. 
 
 Leadville, causes of growth, 173. 
 
 Lee, yields to Grant, 262 ; on negro 
 troops, 281 ; command by, 284 ; 
 confidence of his army. 291. 
 
 Legislatures, appointment of presiden- 
 tial electors, 62 ; elections of, 78 ; 
 rapid change in, 90 ; colonial, choice
 
 ITuDcj. 
 
 305 
 
 LEN 
 
 of members, 145 ; choice of non-res- 
 idents, 145. 
 
 Lenox, country life, 175. 
 
 Lima, causes of growth, 172. 
 
 Lincoln, Abraham, a minority Presi- 
 dent, 74 ; influence in Civil War, 
 338, 259 : vetoes, 286. 
 
 Lincoln, William, excluded by Lan- 
 caster, 137. 
 
 Loans in Civil War, 273, 274. 
 
 Lobby, effect of, 207 ; no River and 
 Harbor. 211. 
 
 Lombards, system of fines, 45. 
 
 London, choice of site, 165. 
 
 Louisiana, boundary of, 235 : private 
 land claims, 238 ; aids Confederacy, 
 276. 
 
 Louisville, choice of site, 166. 
 
 Lowe, gift of land to, 243. 
 
 Lowell, Charles Russell, a cavalry 
 commander, 292. 
 
 Lowell, James Russell, as minister to 
 England, 108. 
 
 Lyne, William, begs a commission, 157. 
 
 Lynn, a manufacturing city, 170. 
 
 TV/TANCHESTER-BY-THE- SEA, 
 
 Manchester, N. H., water power at, 
 171 ; foreign population in, 191. 
 
 Manning, Secretary, on the Bering 
 Sea, 129. 
 
 Manufactures, in cities, 170 ; in 1861, 
 272. 
 
 Marietta, slow growth, 179. 
 
 Maryland, compulsory voting in, 41 ; 
 failure of an elector to attend, 67 ; 
 local government in, 150 ; county 
 government in, 150 , election to co- 
 lonial assembly, 154; counties in the 
 Revolution, 160 ; a Slave State, 271 ; 
 sources of population, 287. 
 
 Massachusetts, voters in, 23 ; natural- 
 ization in, 26 ; exclusions from suf- 
 frage, 27 : pa\ipers excluded, 28 ; 
 educational qualification, 29 ; vote 
 in, 35 ; compulsory voting in not re- 
 quired, 42 ; poll tax requisite abol- 
 ished, 49 ; vote tabulated, 54 : Mug- 
 wumps in, 76 ; permanence of parties 
 in, 77 ; summoning town meetings, 
 135; conditions of settlement, 134: 
 colonial town meeting in, 135 ; read- 
 ing of laws .against immorality, 139 ; 
 influence of colonial office-holders, 
 143 ; choice of non-residents, 145 ; 
 proposition for County Councils, 155 ; 
 County Commissions in, 159; co- 
 lonial county government, 147, 150, 
 
 MIS 
 
 152, 160 ; conditions of local gov- 
 ernment, 149, 150 ; type of county 
 government, 151 ; appointment of 
 county officer.s, 152-157; control of 
 county officers, 153; county as- 
 semblies, 154 : first legislative as- 
 sembly, 156; development of county 
 court, 158 ; legislative powers in 
 counties, 159 ; effect on the Revolu- 
 tion, 160 ; controversy with Berk- 
 shire County, 160 ; land cession, 237 ; 
 sources of population, 287. 
 
 Matta, .Senor, Chilean minister of 
 foreign affairs, 115; discourteous 
 despatches, 1 19 : circular to the am- 
 bassadors, 121 ; renewed controversy 
 with Egan, 123 : circular issued by 
 Montt. 124 ; circular withdrawn, 
 125 ; additional apology asked, 125 ; 
 note withdrawn, 127 ; note made 
 public, 128. 
 
 Merrimac River, water powers on, 
 170. 
 
 Mexican War, territorial results, 235 ; 
 land bounties, 243 ; sources of troops, 
 290. 
 
 Mexico, occupied by France, 104 ; re- 
 sentment toward United States, 130. 
 
 Michigan, appointment of electors in 
 1890, 62 ; county government in, 147- 
 151 ; feeds New York, i6g. 
 
 Michigan, Lake, navigation of, i6g. 
 
 Milford, Mass., population, 189. 
 
 Militia service, legal basis of, 38. 
 
 Milwaukee, choice of site, i56; foreign 
 population in, 191. 192. 
 
 Ministers' influence in town meeting, 
 144. 
 
 Minneapolis, growth of, 169 ; a manu- 
 facturing city, 170 ; growth of, 188 ; 
 foreign population in, 191, 192. 
 
 Minnesota, vote in i8go, 35: perma- 
 nence of parties in, 77 ; feeds New 
 York, i6g. 
 
 Mississippi, educational qualification, 
 29 ; rate of voting in, 32 : cities in, 
 184 ; land grant to, 248 ; Jones 
 County episode, 287. 
 
 Mississippi River, navigation of, 169 ; 
 Upper Valley, 181 ; decay of navi- 
 gation, 187 ; appropriation for im- 
 provement, 218 ; special commission, 
 223, 231 ; in .Southern Confederacy, 
 266 ; crossed by Confederates, 276. 
 
 Missouri, a Slave State, 269, 271 ; 
 does not secede, 270. 
 
 Missouri River, decay of navigation, 
 187 ; improvement of, 227 ; commis- 
 sion on, 231 ; blocked, 271. 
 
 20
 
 3o6 
 
 HiiDcj. 
 
 MOD 
 
 Moderator, the Speakers province, lO. 
 
 Monroe, uncontested election, 58. 
 
 Monroe Doctrine, announcement of, 
 104. 
 
 Montgomery, excess of negroes, 194. 
 
 Montt, Chilean minister to Washing- 
 ton, apology by, 124. 
 
 Mountains, in Civil War, 265. 
 
 Municipal elections, 34. 
 
 Municipal government, effect of State 
 interference, 40 ; problems of, 162 ; 
 bibliography of. 162. 
 
 NATIONAL COMMITTEE, in 
 campaigns, 60. 
 
 National Conventions, described, 59 ; 
 in case of death of candidate, 70. 
 
 Naturalization, proportion of aliens 
 naturalized, 25; admits to the suf- 
 frage, 64. 
 
 Navy, blockaded by, 277. 
 
 Nebraska, county government in, 151. 
 
 Negroes, scanty vote in the South, 32 ; 
 effect on the vote, 34 ; effect of com- 
 pulsory voting on, 50 ; prevented 
 from voting, 75; in cities, 193, 194, 
 200 : vote of, 194 ; number in the 
 South, 292 ; aid to the South, 294 ; 
 aid to the North, 295. 
 
 Nevada, influence in presidential elec- 
 tions, 74. 
 
 New ]?edford, cause of growth, 171. 
 
 Newburyport, site of, 166 ; population, 
 189. 
 
 New England, vote tabulated, 55 ; 
 town meeting in {sre Colonial Town 
 Meeting) ; social conditions, 134 ; 
 county subordinated to the town, 
 150; cities in, 164; effect of moun- 
 tains on, 167 ; fuel in, 171 : commer- 
 cial centre is Boston, 180; distribu- 
 tion of cities, 184 ; population in, 
 1790, 186: manufacturing towns, 
 189 ; foreign population in, 191 ; 
 movement from hill farms, 195 ; 
 population, 268. 
 
 New Jersey, rate of voting in, 32 ; co- 
 lonial county government, 151 ; har- 
 bors in, 167 ; cities in, 184 ; sources 
 of population, 2S7. 
 
 New Mexico, title to, 235 ; private land 
 claims, 238. 
 
 New Orleans, choice of site, 166 ; 
 growth of, 169 ; decay of river trade, 
 187 ; foreigners in, 193 ; negroes in, 
 193 ; origin of urban population, 203; 
 
 NOV 
 
 derivation of foreigners, 204 ; capt- 
 ured, 267 ; foreign population, 269. 
 
 Newport, country life, 175. 
 
 New York City, largest proportion of 
 alien voters, 27 ; registration in, 31 ; 
 proportion of voters. 33 ; difficulty of 
 voting in, 33 ; vote in, 35, 36 ; vote in 
 municipal elections, 36; registration 
 in, 50 ; vote tabulated, 54 ; "deals" 
 in, 66 : Board of Electrical Control, 
 92 ; political officers, 92 ; Tammany 
 county government, 147 ; choice of 
 site, 166, 167 ; attracts steamer trade, 
 167; effect of the Erie Canal, i£8 ; 
 depends on the West for food, 169 ; 
 the metropolis, 170; manufactures 
 in, 170 ; port for immigrants, 171 ; 
 effect of foreign trade, 172 ; sugges- 
 tion to make a separate .State, 174; 
 governed from Albany, 175 ; rail- 
 roads late, 178 ; reasons for growth, 
 179 ; means of defence, 180 : growth 
 by decades, 185 ; strain on popular 
 government, 1S9 ; proportion of for- 
 eigners, 191 ; number of foreigners, 
 192 : Germans, 192 ; Irish, 192 ; 
 Russians, 193 ; number of adult 
 foreigners, 196 ; foreigners, propor- 
 tionately, 198 ; excess of women, igg; 
 colored quarters in, 200 ; origin of 
 urban population, 203 ; derivation of 
 foreign population, 204 ; foreign pop- 
 ulation in, 204: improvement of har- 
 bor, 223. 
 
 New York State, vote tabulated, 54 ; 
 importance in presidential elections, 
 63 ; influence in presidential elec- 
 tions, 74 ; no vote in 1788, 75 ; effect 
 of Mugwumps in, 76 ; colonial coun- 
 ty government, 151-159; constructs 
 a canal, 168 ; cities in, 184 ; internal 
 improvements in, 228 ; land cession, 
 
 237- 
 
 Nitrate, deposits in Chile, 103. 
 
 Nomination for President, renomina- 
 tion, 58 : National Convention, 59 ; 
 platform. 58. 
 
 Norfolk, site of, 167. 
 
 North. Sen United .States. 
 
 North Carolina, colonial county govern- 
 ment, 151 ; action of Mecklenburg 
 County, 160 ; water powers in. 171 ; 
 effect on the National Capital, 176 ; 
 land cession, 237 ; reservation, 237 ; 
 Union troops, 270. 
 
 Northern Pacific Railroad, Yellowstone 
 Branch, 178. 
 
 Northwest Ordinance, reported, 6. 
 
 Nova Scotia, harbors, 167.
 
 ffuDej. 
 
 307 
 
 OCT 
 /^CTOBER STATES, effect of. 
 
 Office-holding. Sre Appointments, Re- 
 movals, Civil Service. 
 
 Ohio, an October State, 66 ; feeds New 
 York, 169 ; coal shipments, 181 ; five 
 percent, fund, 247. 
 
 Ohio River, in Ci\Tl War, 266. 
 
 "One Hundred Proprietors" of Provi- 
 dence, 136. 
 
 Orders in Council, force of, 2. 
 
 Oregon, internal improvements in, 228, 
 230 ; claim to, 239. 
 
 Oswego, population, 1S9. 
 
 Otis,James, moderator in Boston, 139. 
 
 Oxford University, government of, 38. 
 
 PACIFIC RAILROAD, land grant 
 to, 248. 
 Pan-American Congress, 104. 
 Parks, effect of, 173. 
 Parliament, system of leadership, 2 ; 
 
 county members, 149. 
 Parliamentary Procedure, in general ; 
 
 {s^e Congress, House of Rcpresenta- ■ 
 
 tives. Senate) ; in town meetings. 
 
 140. ! 
 
 Parliamentary System, description of, , 
 
 1-3- 
 
 Parties, stability of. in the United 
 States, 17 ; effect of compulsory 
 voting, 51 : permanence in .States, 
 76 ; effect of third parties, 77 ; effect 
 on civil service reform, 86 ; as a . 
 popular gain, 95. ! 
 
 Party divisions between two houses, 
 
 79- . . ' 
 
 Patagonia, secured by Chile, 102. j 
 
 Paterson, foreign population in, igi. 
 
 Pattison, elected Governor of Penn- 
 sylvania, 51. 
 
 Pendleton, George H., Civil -Service 
 Reform Act, 83. 
 
 Pennsylvania, vote in iSgo, 35, 36 ; co- 
 lonial county government, 151 ; 
 powers of county officers, 154 ; type 
 of county government, 159 ; coal, 
 lake shipments, i8i; cities in, 184 ; 
 internal improvements in. 22S ; land 
 cession of, 236. 
 
 People of the United States, attitude 
 toward civil service reform, 81-97. 
 
 Pereira, 115; change of tone by, 124; 
 apology by, 127. 
 
 Peru, dispute with Chile, 102. 
 
 Phelps, E. J., as minister to England, 
 108. 
 
 Philadelphia, choice of site, 166; in- 
 
 PRE 
 
 terest in canals, 16S ; reasons for 
 growth, 16S ; dependent on the 
 West. 169 ; manufacturing in, 170 ; 
 coal, 171 ; immigrants nito, 172 ; bad 
 water, 173; early railroad, 178; 
 growth by decades, 186 ; foreigners 
 in, 191; native white population, 
 193 ; origin of urban populatiun, 203; 
 derivation of foreign population, 
 204 ; improvement of harbor, 226. 
 
 Pierce, Franklin, not renominated, 59. 
 
 Pigeon, John, .a ballot-stuffer, 142. 
 
 Pithole, causes of growth, 173. 
 
 Pittsburg, cause of growth, 171, 172. 
 
 Platforms, political. 59. 
 
 Plymouth, compulsory voting in, 42. 
 
 Poles, in cities, 193. 
 
 Political campaigns, preliminaries, 58 ; 
 nominations for President, 59 ; di- 
 rection, of, 60 ; use of money in, 
 60; military organizations, 61. 
 
 Polk, James K., not renominated, 58 ; 
 fraud in the election, 75. 
 
 Pollard, opposition to Davis. 2S2, 285. 
 
 Popular vote, for President not in- 
 tended, 73. 
 
 Population, compared with voters, 
 54-57 ; of the United States, 87 ; 
 urban, 163-185 ; in large and small 
 cities, 183 ; of large cities, 185-188 ; 
 of stationary towns, 188 ; propor- 
 tion of foreigners in cities, 190-193 ; 
 negroes in cities, 193 ; movement 
 from the country to the city, 194- 
 196 ; distribution by ages, 196 ; ef- 
 fect of immigration, 198 ; excess of 
 women, 199. 
 
 Port.age Lake, improvement, 218, 220. 
 
 Posse Comitatus, service in, 38. 
 
 Postmasters, choice of, 88. 
 
 Pre-emption, land system, 240 ; re- 
 striction, 252. 
 
 Premier, the Speaker as, 1-19 ; com- 
 pared with the Speaker, 17, 18. 
 
 President, executive duties, 3 ; no 
 power over Congress, 4 ; unifies ad- 
 ministration, 4 ; likely to stand by 
 the Speaker, 18 ; less powerful than 
 the Speaker, 19 . constitutional quali- 
 fications of, 68 ; not controlled by 
 Congress, 72 ; application of civil 
 service reform, 82 ; message on 
 Chile, 116; tendency to negotiate 
 in public, 128 ; should unify the 
 cabinet, 129 ; legislative power, 206 ; 
 on River and Harbor Bills, 231 ; of 
 Southern Confederacy. See Davis, 
 Jefferson. 
 
 Presidential election, voters entitled
 
 308 
 
 UnDei*. 
 
 PRE 
 
 to participate, 23-30 ; vote of 1888, 
 34 ; getting out the vote, 36 ; vote 
 compared with population, 56-57 : 
 account of, 58, 80 ; nomination of 
 President, 59 ; management of cam- 
 paign, 6c-6i ; voters in, 61-62 ; 
 suggested reform in vote, 63 ; total 
 votes, 64; the electors. 66; qualifi- 
 cations of President, 68 ; of 1836, 
 72 ; of 1840, 60 ; of 1872, 6g : of 
 1876, 67 ; of 1884, 60 ; of 1888, 63- 
 66; of 1892, 59; case of death of 
 candidate, 6g ; choice by the House, 
 71 ; Act of 1887, 71 ; of 1880, 73 : 
 minority Presidents, 74 ; effect on 
 reconstruction, 76 ; regular candi- 
 dates, 77 ; management of, 79 ; in- 
 terest in, 79 : returns, 80. 
 Previous question, in the House, 217. 
 Prime Minister, Knglish, 1-3. 
 Princeton, Jefferson's complaint, 289. 
 Proprietary, m colonial towns. 136 ; 
 passing away, 142. Set' Town Meet- 
 ing. 
 Providence, town meeting in, 134-136, 
 140 ; influence in town meeting, 143 ; 
 choice of site, 166; cause of growth, 
 171. 
 Public domain. See Public Lands. 
 Public lands, poliiy of the United 
 States, 233-257 ; e.vhaustion of ara- 
 ble, 233 ; acquirement, 234 ; org.ini- 
 zation of Territories, 236 ; the public 
 domain, 236 ; State cessions, 237 ; 
 reservations, 237; area, 239; policy of 
 disposition, 239-241 ; proceeds, 241 ; 
 minimum price, 241 : Indian claim, 
 242 ; expenses on, 241 ; grants to 
 individuals, 243, 244 ; grants to 
 States, 244-247 ; grants for educa- 
 tion, 245 ; two, three, and five per 
 cent, funds. 247 ; grants for internal 
 improvements. 247-249 ; railroad 
 grants, 248 ; Pacific railroads, 248 ; 
 reversions, 249 ; summary, 249 ; pres- 
 ent domain, 250 ; Indian reserva- 
 tions, 250 ; present value, 251 ; de- 
 fects, 252 ; large estates, 252 ; land- 
 grabbers, 253 ; responsibility of 
 Congress. 254 ; total of acquisitions, 
 255 ; total of dispositions, 256, 257 ; 
 during Civil War, 279. 
 Puritan, element, in colonies, 297. 
 
 QUEBEC, choice of site, 165. 
 Quintero Hay, landing of Con- 
 gressionalists at. iii ; effect of, 116. 
 
 ROT 
 
 "P ACINE, a city, 178. 
 i\. Railroads, effect on city building, 
 177, 178; New York Central, 178; 
 Pennsylvania, 178; Baltimore & Ohio, 
 178 ; all trade routes, 178 ; to Chi- 
 cago, 179, 181 : effect on Chicago, 
 187 ; effect on the Northwest, 188 ; 
 land grants for, 248 ; reversions, 249 ; 
 in Civil War, 270. 
 Randall, Samuel J., a powerful chair- 
 man, 7. 
 Reagan, Mr., Chairman of River and 
 
 Harbor Committee, 210, 212. 221. 
 Reconstruction, effect on presidential 
 
 election, 76. 
 Reform of the Civil Service. See Civil 
 
 Service Reform. 
 Registration, legal effect of, 37 ; effect 
 
 on voting, 49. 
 Reiter, Commander, action on the Bar- 
 
 rundia cases, 120. 
 Reports of committees, 212, 218, 221. 
 Residence, qualification for the suf- 
 frage, 29. 
 Revenue of the United States, 87._ 
 Revolution, influence of town meetings, 
 
 146. 
 Rhode Island, property qualification, 
 28 ; permanence of parties in, 77 ; 
 counties in, 152. 
 Richmond, canal to, 168 ; passports in, 
 
 283. 
 River and Harbor Bill,significance,207; 
 erratic character, 207; preparation of, 
 208 ; estimates, 208, 209 ; Committee 
 on, 209 ; committee discussions, 210 ; 
 bill framed, 211; amount, 212 ; re- 
 ported, 212 ; reported again, 213 ; 
 debate, 213-215; filibustering, 216, 
 217; passes House, 217; in the 
 Senate, 218 ; Committee of Confer- 
 ence, 219 ; Conference report, 220- 
 222 ; passes, 222 ; provisions, 223 ; 
 utility, 224 : objectionable items. 225- 
 228 ; lack of system, 228 ; power of 
 War Department. 229-231 ; admin- 
 istrative commissions, 231 ; not 
 signed by President, 231 ; sum- 
 mary, 232. 
 Rivers, navigation of, 169. 
 Rivers and Harbors, legislation, 206- 
 
 232. 
 Rochester, a manufacturing city, 170. 
 Rome, choice of site, 165. 
 Roosevelt, Theodore, on Tammany 
 
 Latin, 126. 
 Rotation in office. See Appointment, 
 Removals, Civil Service Reform. ,
 
 HuDcr, 
 
 309 
 
 RUG 
 
 Rugby, slow growth, 179. 
 
 Rules, framed by each Congress, 7 ; 
 apphed by the Speaker, 10 ; Com- 
 mittee on, 16; do not confer the 
 Speaker's power, 18. 
 
 Rural population. See Population. 
 
 Russia, Alaskan cession, 235. 
 
 Russians, incities, 193. 
 
 SALZBURG, choice of site, 164. 
 Samoa, our claims to, 131. 
 
 Sandy Kay, Harbor of Refuge, 212. 
 
 San Francisco, United States ship, ob- 
 serves Congressionalists' landing, 
 III ; site of. 167; future of, 187; 
 foreign population in, igi, 192 ; 
 origin of urban population, 203 ; der- 
 ivation of foreigners, 204, 
 
 Santiago, captured by Congression- 
 alists, 106. 
 
 Saybrook, site of, 166. 
 
 Scandinavians, in American cities, 
 192 ; in New York, 198. 
 
 Schools, effect of city growth, 200. 
 See Education. 
 
 Schuylkill, causes of growth, 173. 
 
 Scotch, in cities, 204. 
 
 Scranton, causes of growth, 172. 
 
 Secession, connection with slavery, 
 293. 
 
 Secretary of State, called Premier, i ; 
 a subordinate, 3-4. 
 
 Sedden, Confederate Secretary of War, 
 2S2. 
 
 Select Committees. See Committees. 
 
 Selectmen, choice of, in colonial towns, 
 
 145- 
 
 Selma, excess of negroes, 194. 
 
 Senate, number of members, 5 ; com- 
 mittees in, 7 ; committees chosen by 
 ballot, ID : power in presidental elec- 
 tions, 70 ; legislative influence, 206 ; 
 increases appropriations, 218 - 220, 
 222 ; River and Harbor Bill in, 218 ; 
 Conference Committee, 220 ; enroll- 
 ment, 223. 
 
 Senators, elections of, 78. 
 
 Sewell, Samuel, moderator in Boston, 
 139 ; on Boston town meeting, 140 ; 
 declines to be moderator, 142. 
 
 Sex, a qualification for suffrage, 24. 
 
 .Shenandoah Valley, in Civil War, 267. 
 
 Sheridan, a cavalry commander, 292. 
 
 Sheriff, in colonial counties. See Coun- 
 ties. 
 
 Sherman, campaigns, 266 ; March to 
 the Sea, 276. 
 
 Shire. See County. 
 
 STA 
 
 Silver Coinage, offset against Election 
 Bill, 65. 
 
 Slavery, effect on the South, 292-298. 
 
 South, exercise of the suffrage in, 32 ; 
 election methods in, 33 ; compared 
 with the North, 258 - 298 ; local 
 government in. See Counties, and 
 Colonies, bj> name. 
 
 Southampton, L. I., compulsory voting 
 in, 40. 
 
 South Carolina, type of colonial county 
 government, 150 ; land cession, 237. 
 
 Southern Confederacy, reason for de- 
 feat, 258 : expectation of success, 
 259 - 261 ; foreign relations, 261 ; 
 military successes, 262; geographi- 
 cal advantages, 263, 265 ; resources, 
 264 : food, 265 ; control of the Mis- 
 sissippi, 266 ; wooded country, 267 ; 
 inside lines, 267 ; population, 268- 
 271 ; relations of Border States, 271 ; 
 wealth, 271 ; manufactures, 272 ; 
 capital, 273 ; income, 274 ; debt, 
 274 ; currency, 275 : military sup- 
 plies, 275 ; ettect of blockade, 277 ; 
 internal transportation. 277 ; enlist- 
 ments, 280 ; aptitude for war, 281 ; 
 e.xecutive, 282 : lack of system, 283 ; 
 commissariat, 283 ; discipline, 284 ; 
 centralization, 2S4 ; internal opposi- 
 tion, 285 ; quarrel with Georgia, 
 286 : war with Jones County, 287 ; 
 military efficiency, 288 ; illiteracy of 
 the army, 289 ; officers, 290 ; troops, 
 291 ; cavalry, 292 ; negroes, 293 ; 
 immigration, 296 : business manage- 
 ment, 296 ; origin of population, 
 297 ; effect of slaverj', 298. 
 
 Spain, land cessions to the United 
 States, 238 ; resists Napoleon, 261. 
 
 Speaker, of the House of Representa- 
 tives, his status, i : as Premier, 1-19 ; 
 as a moderator, in the Colonies, as 
 a party chieftain, 10 ; gradual in- 
 crease of powers, 10-17 • control 
 over legislation, 11 ; has practically 
 a veto, 14 : great prestige ; head of 
 a " steering committee," 15 ; his 
 power negative, 15 : can he be forced 
 to resign ? 18 ; powers likely to in- 
 crease, 19 ; power of recognition, 22 ; 
 legislative influence, 206 ; appoint- 
 ment of committees, 210; signs bills, 
 223. 
 
 Spotswood, Governor, proclamation of, 
 
 153- 
 
 Standing Committees. See Commit- 
 tees. 
 
 State legislatures, make voters, 63.
 
 310 
 
 irn&ej. 
 
 STA 
 
 States, elections in, 34 ; vote tabulated, 
 55 ; appointment of presidential elec- 
 tors, 62 ; inHuence in presidential 
 elections, 73 ; eflfect of unit vote, 77 ; 
 executive officers elective, 90 ; con- 
 trol city governments, 174 ; founding 
 of cities by, 176: land cessions, 236 ; 
 reservations, 237 ; public lands in, 
 239 ; grants to, 244-247 ; internal 
 improvement grants. 247, 248 ; sale 
 of lands, 252 ; land grants to. 256 ; 
 Free and Slave-holding, 263-268 : 
 Border, in Civil War, 279. 
 
 Stephens, opposition to Davis, 282. 
 
 St. Louis, choice of site, 166 ; growth 
 of, 169 ; decay of river trade, 187 ; 
 foreign popul.ition in, 191, 192 ; origin 
 of urban population, 203 ; derivation 
 of foreigners, 204 ; foreign popula- 
 tion, 269. 
 
 St. Paul, choice of site, 166 ; growth 
 of, 168, 169, 188 ; foreign population 
 in, 191,192. 
 
 Suffrage, the exercise of, 20-57 ; favor- 
 ite subject for legislation, 21 ; statis- 
 tics of, 23-32 ; exclusion from, non- 
 naturalized, 26 ; property qualifica- 
 tion, 28 ; criminals, 28 ; illiteracy, 
 29 ; insanity, 29 ; disqualification 
 from residence, 29 : actual legal vo- 
 ters, 30 ; deductions for the ill and 
 absent, 31 ; not a talisman, 39 ; 
 exercise of, tables, 54-57 ; voters for 
 President, 61 : general ticket system, 
 62 ; in presidential elections, con- 
 ferred by .States, 63 ; property qual- 
 ification, 64 ; tax qualification, 64 ; 
 educational qualification, 64 : of 
 women, 64 ; of unnaturalized aliens, 
 64 ; effect of extension, 90. 
 
 Supreme Court of Southern Confed- 
 eracy, 285, 
 
 Swamp land, grants, 246. 
 
 Switzerland, President chosen by Con- 
 gress, 73. 
 
 TAMMANY, control of county gov- 
 ernment, 147 ; does not exile, 
 
 174. 
 Tariff of 1883, 220. 
 Taxation, the condition of the sufiirage, 
 
 28 ; legal basis of, 37 : Federal, 
 
 amount of, 93. 
 Taxes, in Civil War, 273. 
 Taylor, Zachary, a minority President, 
 
 74- 
 Tennessee, vote in, 48 ; admission, 
 
 236 ; Union troops, 270. 
 Territories, area, 236, 255. 
 
 UNI 
 
 Territory of United States, accessions, 
 234- 
 
 Texas, vote in, 48 ; permanence of 
 parties in, 76 ; annexation of, 104 ; 
 area, 235 ; State lands, 252 ; aids 
 Confederacy, 276. 
 
 Timber culture, 244. 
 
 Town meeting, in the Colonies, 133-146 ; 
 summons, 135 ; warrant, 135 ; par- 
 ticipants. 135; "Proprietary," 136; 
 kinds of, 136, 137 ; voters in, 136- 
 138 ; colonial, town clerk, 138 ; busi- 
 ness, 138 ; moderator, 139 ; debate, 
 139; length, 140 ; procedure, 140; 
 voting, 141 ; ballot-stuffing, 141 ; 
 minority protests, 142 ; indirect in- 
 fluences, 143 ; minister in, 144 ; func- 
 tions. 144 ; political functions, 145 ; 
 choice of representatives, 146 ; in- 
 structions to representatives, 146. 
 
 Town quarter day, in Providence, 134, 
 136, 138. 
 
 Tracy, does not disavow Commander 
 Evans, 113 ; report irritates Matta, 
 
 121. 
 
 Troy, choice of site. 166. 
 
 Trumbull, Ricardo S., a Chilean, 102 ; 
 
 on the Chilean situation, 115. 
 Tweed, a Tammany leader, 147. 
 
 UNITED STATES, legislative sys- 
 tem in, I et seg. ; suffrage in, 
 20 ei st-g. ; population in, 24 ; 
 movement of population in. 29 ; par- 
 ticipation of voters in, 32 ; propoi> 
 tion of voters in. 33 ; negative form 
 of government in, 37 ; services due 
 to, 38; party allegiance in, 51 ; votes 
 and voters in, 53-57 ; vote tabulated, 
 55 ; presidential elections in, 58 ei 
 seg. ; variety of public service, 87 ; 
 population of, 87 ; revenue of, 87 ; 
 international relations of, 98-132 ; 
 compared with Chile, 101-103 ; in 
 American politics, 104 ; appointment 
 of public ministers, 108 ; cities in, 
 162-205 • public land policy, 233-257 ; 
 reasons for success in Civil War, 
 258-298 ; superiority of strength, 
 259; Southern domination, 260 ; mili- 
 tary reverses, 262 : geographical 
 advantages, 264 ; geographical dis- 
 advantages. 265 ; railroads, 266 ; 
 connection between East and West, 
 267 ; number of troops, 268 ; popu- 
 lation, 268, 269 ; Border States, 
 270 ; value of land, 271 ; manufact- 
 ures, 272 : wealth, 273 ; capital, 
 273 ; resources, 274 ; plentj', 276 ;
 
 1[nC»ci% 
 
 311 
 
 URB 
 
 blockade, 277 ; surplus of strength, 
 
 279 ; internal growth, 279 ; imports, 
 
 280 ; enlistments, 280 ; intelligence, 
 289 ; cavalry, 292 ; aid of the ne- 
 groes, 29s ; origin of population, 
 297. See Population ; see Cities. 
 
 Urban population. See Population. 
 
 VACANCIE.S, in presidential elec- 
 tors, 67. 
 
 Valparaiso, cable from, 110 ; effect of 
 attack on the Haltimore, 115. 
 
 Venice, choice of site, 165. 
 
 Vermont, small proportion of naturali- 
 zations, 25 : vote in, 48 ; perma- 
 nence of parties in, 77. 
 
 Vice-President, qualifications of, 68 ; 
 election of. See President. 
 
 Vicksburg, captured, 267. 
 
 Viel, telegram to Balmaceda, 112. 
 
 Virginia, compulsory voting in, 43 ; 
 county government in, 147 ; east- 
 ern shore of, 147 : early shires in, 
 148 ; number and size of counties, 
 152 ; sheriffs in, 155 ; land cession, 
 237 ; reservation, 237 ; secedes, 
 271 ; sources of population. 287. 
 
 Virginia City, causes of growth, 173. 
 
 Voters in municipal elections, 34 : in 
 State elections, 34 ; in presidential 
 elections, 56, 57 ; in colonial town 
 meeting, 135-13S. 
 
 Votes, tabulation compared with popu- 
 lation, 54-57 ; in presidential elec- 
 tions, 64 ; effect of office on, 95. 
 
 Voting, compulsory, suggestion of, 21, 
 
 WAR, defencelessness of cities, 165, 
 180. 
 War, Civil. See The United States. 
 War of 1812, land bounties, 243. 
 War, Secretary of, river and harbor 
 estimates, 208 ; report, 209 ; rela- 
 
 VEL 
 
 tions with committees, 210 ; discre- 
 tion, 216 ; criticises River and Har- 
 bor Bill, 226 ; discretion, 229 ; criti- 
 cism of, 230. 
 
 Warrant. ^SV^ Town Meeting. 
 
 Washington, city of, public service in, 
 87 ; Capitol designed by a physician, 
 91 ; canal to, 168 ; park system, 174; 
 causes of growth, 176 ; foreign pop- 
 ulation in, 191 ; immigration from 
 other parts of United States, 195. 
 
 Washington, President, in the Senate, 
 4 ; few bills presented to, s ; uncon- 
 tested election, 58 ; on public lands, 
 
 233- 
 Water powers, advantages of, 170. 
 West, the, local government in. See 
 
 Counties, Towns, and States, by 
 
 name. 
 West Florida, area, 235. 
 West Virginia, a Slave State, 271. 
 Wheeling, causes of growth, 172. 
 Williams, Roger, on Providence town 
 
 meetings, 140. 
 Willis, Mr., Chairman of River and 
 
 Harbor Committee, 210, 213, 215, 
 
 216, 217, 219, 221. 
 Wilmington, Mass., dislikes railroads, 
 
 177. 
 Wilmington, N. C, excess of negroes, 
 
 194. 
 Wilson, a cavalry commander, 292. 
 Winston County, Ala., 286. 
 Wisconsin, county government in, 147, 
 
 Wisconsin River, improvement of, 
 
 227. 
 Wobum, dislikes railroads, 177. 
 Women suffrage, 24 ; in Wyoming, 
 
 64 : excess of foreign bom, 199 ; 
 
 effect of foreign immigration, 200. 
 
 WELLOWSTONE, railroad to, 178.
 
 Epochs of American History. 
 
 Edited by ALBERT BUSHNELL HART, Ph.D., 
 
 Assistant Professor of History in Harvard University. 
 
 MESSRS. LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO. take pleasure in announcing 
 the completion of their series published, in three volumes, under the 
 general title of Epochs of American History. Each volume 
 contains specially prepared maps, working bibliographies, and full index. The 
 maps in the three volumes have also been republished separately under the title 
 Epoch Maps Illustrating American History. The series is issued 
 under the editorship of Dr. Albert Bushnell Hart, Assistant Professor of His- 
 tory in Harvard University, as follows: 
 
 I. The Colonies, 1492-1750. By Reuben Gold Thwaites, Secretary 
 of the State Historical Society of Wisconsin ; editor of the Wisconsin 
 Historical Collections ; author of " Historic Waterways," " The Story of 
 Wisconsin," etc With four colored maps, pp. xviii, 301. Cloth, ^1.25. 
 
 n. The Formation of the Union, 1750-1829. By Albert Bush- 
 nell Hart, A.B., Ph.D, Assistant Professor of History in Harvard 
 University; member of the Massachusetts Historical Society; author of 
 " Introduction to the Study of Federal Government," " Practical Essays on 
 American Government," etc. With five colored maps, pp. x.x, 278. Cloth, 
 $1.25. 
 
 in. Division and Reunion, 1829-1889. By Woodrow Wilson, 
 Ph.D., LL.D., Professor of Jurisprudence and Political Economy in 
 Princeton University; author of "Congressional Government," "The 
 State — Elements of Historical and Practical Politics," etc. With five 
 colored maps, pp. xix, 326. Cloth, ^1.25. 
 
 Epoch Maps, illustrating American History. By Albert Bush- 
 nell Hart, A.B., Ph.D. Fourteen colored maps. Limp, oblong, ^o 
 cents net. 
 
 Every student and teacher must be thankful to Professor Hart for bis "Epoch 
 Maps." They bear witness to an immense amoimt of well-directed research among the 
 sources. — Natioji, N. Y. 
 
 LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., Publishers, 
 
 15 East Sixteenth Street, New York.
 
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