NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW. No. CCL JANUARY, 1876. ART. I. RELIGION IN AMERICA, 1776 18~6. THE Revolution which a century ago severed the connection between Great Britain and her colonies issued so directly from political disputes that its religious 1aspects have been obscured; yet no fact lies plainer on th& page of colonial history than the intimate alliance of religious and political ideas, a fact which the elder Adams emphasized when he cautioned the Abb6 Mably not to undertake the War of Inde- pendence without first mastering the church system of New England. And it would form a singular exception to the ordi- nary laws of historical development, if that which is so evident in the causes of the Revolution could not be traced in its results. Those results supplied new ecclesiastical as well as new p6liti- cal conditions, and flowered, at the same time, in the novel experiments of a self-governed state and of a self-directing and self-supporting church. Nor should the formal separa- tion of these two experiments betray us into the error of sup- posing that they are essentially distinct. They have been carried on together, bythe same people, and during the same period, and throughout all this period have had a connection more close and real than will be conceded by such as are ac- customed to look only at the superficial causes of political and social progress. There can be no doubt that whatever circum- stances tend to affect the one must ultimately affect the other VOL. CXXII. NO. 250. 1 2 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. also, and that any extensive modification of the religious senti- ment would ultimately react upon political opinion. An acute critic of American society, not a religious philosopher but a political economist, has found in our experience a signal illus- tration of the principle that there must be harmony between the political and religious schemes that are suited to a people; and a later writer, the least inclined of any historian of civili- zation to lay stress on the spiritual forces that shape society, has indorsed Chevaliers maxim, in a striking passage which traces the influence exerted on political opinion by religious creeds. The religion of a people is, in a profound sense, a part of its history, and results in phenomena to which the mere political student cannot afford to shut his eyes. The hundred years which we are passing in review have been marked by sweeping ecclesiastical and theological con- vulsions. Hardly had the last royal regiment left our shores when the sky grew black with signs of a more far-reaching revolution, and for a time altar and throne went down to- gether. Since that return of chaos and old night, the vexed problem which Hildebrand and the ilohenstauffens left un- solved has harassed every European state. In France, in Italy, and in Germany the struggle has presented its most brilliant phases. In the South the Pope has been stripped of every vestige of a political dominion which long antedated that of the proudest royal dynasty; while in the North a new Prot- estant empire has been called into existence, which boldly remits to antiquaries the traditional relations between Ger- many and the Holy See. England, if less powerfully con- vulsed, has by no means escaped. The repeal of the Test Act, Catholic emancipation, the disestablishment of the Irish Church, are legislative measures which deserve to rank beside the Reform Bill and the abolition of the Corn Laws; and Mr. Gladstone has renewedthe discussion of civil allegiance which Mr. Pitt opened with the Irish universities the very year that our Federal Constitution went into operation. The two greatest statesmen whom this century has produced have expended their supreme energies on the question which is, at this moment, the fundamental question of European politics. Nor have the revolutions of theological opinion been less marked. The 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 8 avowed atheism of the Revolution and the undisguised indiffer- ence of the Empire were succeeded in France by the ultramon- tane revival of the Restoration; the bold rationalism of Germany issued in the transcendental schools, and the various modifica- tions of German theology and criticism; the evangelical move- ment in the English Church was followed by the great tracta- nan reaction; while the Council of the Vatican, contemptu- ously ignoring the political reverses of the papacy, proceeded to enunciate dogmas which touch, in their application, every state in Christendom. And while ecclesiastics and statesmen have been busied with these discussions, science has advanced new theories, which threaten to wipe out the lines of former con- troversies. In the vast range of investigation and argument thus disclosed, the most earnest and most adventurous thought of our time has found ample scope for utterance. It is cer- tainly a matter of no little interest to ascertain what part we have played in this great drama, and how much we have con- tributed to the solution of these perplexing problems. From an estimate of the mere intellectual value of our civilization such inquiries could hardly be omitted. In a survey of our religious progress covering so long a period, and presenting so many phases, of course only the more salient and characteristic features can be noted. No mention can be made of those exceptional manifestations of the religious sentiment, or those reactions of individual opin- ion, which, however interesting in themselves, have left no distinct mark on the public mind. It is the main current, not the side eddies, that must be considered. What seeds, now small and despised, shall attain hereafter a vigorous growth, it remains for time to show. A treatment so general is em- barrassed with peculiar difficulties, on account of the unex- ampled diversity of religious phenomena which our history exhibits. To disentangle from this confused mass any com- mon tendencies, to evolve from .this dissonance any rhythmic movement, may seem at first sight an unpromising experi- ment, and oiie that to some, no doubt, will appear the less inviting from the pervading unpicturesqueness of our religious annals. The thrilling epochs of Old World history are when 4 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. the cross and altar fill the foreground of the picture; when the brilliant narrative groups on a single stage all the heroic and venerable figures; but the huge bulk of our American Christianity is broken into many fragments; its energetic life is poured through various and widely separated channels; whatever of romance gilds it belongs to its earliest youth. Yet neither the lack of romantic interest, nor the hindrances to a- satisfactory analysis, should deter any one from an honest attempt to measure the real success of an experiment in which such great and manifold issues are involved. We shall follow the most simple method if we fix our atten- tion, at the outset, on the external features of our religious history; and, beyond question, the most characteristic of these is the entire separation that obtains, both in our Federal and State systems, between the ecclesiastical and the civil province. So heartily is this accepted, and so unhesitatingly is it main- tained, that it ought, perhaps, to be regarded less as an exter- nal feature than as a fundamental maxim of our body politic. He who should deny it would find it hard to gain a hearing, and would be fortunate if he escaped the reproach of holding an unfriendly attitude towards popular liberty itself. It belongs to American liberty, says Leiber, to separate entirely from the political government the institution which has for its object the support and diffusion of religion. The broad line of de- marcation between the opinions of to-day and those which prevailed a century ago can nowhere be more distinctly traced than precisely at this point; and the contrast that is presented the more deserves attention for the reason that it has hardly been touched upon with sufficient disi3rimination even by our best historians. That in all the colonies, previous to the Revo- lution, there existed a connection, more or less close, between religion and the state, is a fact often repeated and sufficiently familiar. Such a connection may be established in two ways: negatively, by means of tests excluding from public office or the civil franchise the professors of a c3rtain faith; or, posi- tively, by means of legislation providing for religious estab- lishments, or for the support of public worship. The thirteen colonies afforded illustration of all these modes. In all there existed religious tests, unless we regard as an unauthorized 186.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 5 interpolation a clause by which, in the community which wel- comed the virtuous Berkeley, Montesquieu and Turgot would have beeii accounted aliens. Even Delaware and Peunsyb vania, refusing any legal preference of religion, denied the franchise to all who did not profess faith in Jesus Christ. Most of these tests were borrowed from English law, and were due to the exigencies of English politics. But throughout the southern colonies the Church of England enjoyed a legal recognition. Into Georgia, where the social influences that operated farther north hardly found a place, it was introduced by the second royal governor. Unmindful of the principles which the wise foresight of Locke had sought to fix in the Grand Model, South Carolina had taken the first step in the same direction before the close of the seventeenth century. In North Carolina it had found a place, though with meagre results, early in the eighteenth. In Virginia it was coeval with the civil constitution; and in Maryland, originally founded on the principle of complete toleration, it had so far triumphed that in the colony which Calvert had planted the rites of the Church of Rome could no longer be celebrated. And in New Jersey and New York, where the church was not established, it basked in the sunshine of an official counte- nance that secured it a hardly inferior advantage. Yet all this was but an attempt to transplant to the New World insti- tutions which in the Old were already smitten with decay. The establishment remained a sickly exotic, striking no deep roots into the soil, and it almost withered away when scorched by the fervent heat of the Revolutionary epoch. The statement has been repeated by writers who should be better informed; that before the Revolution the Congregational church system was established after the same plan in the col- onies of Connecticut and Massachusetts. But in these two colonies there was not only no religious establishment, even the bare suggestion of one had drawn forth an energetic protest. When w6 study their institutions we encounter an experiment the novel and unique features of which have been too much overlooked. It was not even a reproduction, on these shores, of the scheme of Calvin, at least as that scheme was expounded by his disciple Cartwright, and indorsed by the English Pres 6 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. byterians; for that claimed for the ecclesiastical a complete independence of the civil power. From the decrees of the clergy there was no appeal. The church was a self-subsisting spiritual republic; and the province of the civil ruler was simply to see that her discipline was carried out. According to this theory, church and state were essentially distinct, and might come into angry collision. But the plan devised by the foun~ders of Massachusetts aimed at a blending of the two. In their view, the order of the churches and of the common- wealth formed a complete and harmonious whole. It was a prophecy of the new heavens and of the new earth. Between church and state there could exist no antagonism, when both were alike but shapes in which one informing spirit masked itself. It is true that long before the Revolution this singular system had passed away. By the charter of William and Mary toleration had been extended to all Protestant creeds, and the right of suffrage was no longer restricted to church-members. But the ideas out of which this experiment had grown still survived in a profound conviction of the indissoluble alliance between the spiritual and civil order; and the stanch devotion of the colony to her traditions proved itself in an enactment requiring every town to support a religious teacher. This legislation rested on the unwavering conviction that religion was the foundation of society, and that the furtherance of re- ligion was one of the prime functions of the body politic. Before we flout the legislators of Massachusetts for being be- hind the age, we should ascertain precisely what they sought to do. They were not emptying into the cup of colonial liberty the dregs of an old experiment. The support of religion, not the endowment of any specific church establishment, was what they had in mind. No doubt the overwhelming majority of the population were attached to the same form of faith, yet the statute left it open for each town to decide what ecclesiastical order it would adopt. An arrangement more liberal in prin- ciple never was devised. The theory thus applied to churches was precisely the same that was applied to schools. In this respect the minister and the schoolmaster stood on exactly the same footing. Every argument that could be adduced in favor of giving public support to one could be adduced in favor of 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 7 giving the same support to the other also. Religion and edu- cation were alike essential to the welfare of the state, and it was equally the concern of the state to see that both should flourish. When the number of dissenters from the early faith had sufficiently increased, the law was modified so as to allow each separate congregation to claim its proportion of the eccle- siastical tax for the support of a clergyman of its own persua- sion. It contemplated no exclusive privilege. The conservative character of our Revolution was shown in nothing more distinctly than in the deliberate manner in which, under the new political order, the several states proceeded to modify the old relations between religion and the civil power. Of necessity the formal church establishments which existed at the South, identified as they were both in origin and form with a foreign and hostile power, at once fell to pieces. But it is a somewhat rhetorical exaggeration of the fact when our foremost historian tells us that from the rivers of Maine and the hills of New Hampshire to the mountain valleys of Ten- nessee and the borders of Georgia, one voice called to the other that there should be no connection of church and state. On the contrary, in every one of the new constitutions framed under the Declaration of Independence, with the single excep- tion of that of New York, some connection of church and state was expressly recognized. Many of the restrictions that were retained may be properly described as shreds of an old sys- tem or incidental reminiscences of ancient usages. Such especially were the tests, having their origin not so much in religious as in political antagonisms, which denied the franchise to Roman Catholics. These purely negative provisions, which in this country had little meaning, and were readily eliminated, were of a wholly different nature from positive enactments in which some of the States embodied the conviction that religion lay at the foundation of civil government. Thus into the Con- stitution of Maryland, adopted the very year in which indepen- dence was declared, a provision was inserted making belief in the Christian religion the condition of holding any public office. Massachusetts, four years later, retained a similar condition. In Pennsylvania every member of the Legislature was required to avow his belief in God and in the inspiration of the Old and 8 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. New Testaments. Delaware went still further, and demanded of every public officer a declaration of belief in the doctrine of the Trinity. The two Carolinas and Georgia required of every public functionary that he should profess the Protestant re- ligion. Yet it is evident that in all these provisions the end in view was not the exclusion of any particular sect from the civil franchise, but the assertion of the religious basis of civil government. In Maryland and in South Carolina the public support of religion was still recognized as a duty of the State. This conviction, however, naturally found its most emphatic assertion in New England, where the public support of religion was most strongly intrenched in popular tradition. As Con- necticut continued under her colonial charter, without adopting a constitution, she escaped, for the time, any discussion of the question; but in Massachusetts it had already provoked a bitter controversy, and in the debates which preceded the adop. tion of the Constitution of 1780 it became the engrossing topic. The third article of the Bill of Rights, forming part of the Constitution, empowered the Legislature to make suitable pro- vision for the support and maintenance of public Protestant teachers of piety, religion, and morality. Against the whole principle of a public support of religion the Baptists ha~ long been vehemently protesting. They had felt especially ag- grieved by a law, passed in 1753, which enacted that no person should be reckoned of their persuasion whose name was not included in a list, the correctness of which must be attested by three Baptist churches. By a subsequent statute this list was required to be annually exhibited to the assessors of each town. Repeated complaints were made of grievous persecutions, and the year before the first blood of the Revolution was shed at Lexington, no less than eighteen members of a Baptist church were imprisoned in Northampton jail for refusing to pay minis- terial rates. Remonstrances were laid before members of the Continental Congress then in session at Philadelphia, and before the Massachusetts Congress at Cambridge. At the Philadel- phia conference, which was simply an informal meeting of cer- tain members of the Congress, Samuel Adams intimated that the complaints came from enthusiasts who made it a merit to suffer persecution; while John Adams declared that a 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 9 change in the solar system might be expected as soon as a change in the ecclesiastical system of Massachusetts. The opinions of the~ most serious supporters of the law will be found reflected in the annual Election sermons of the period. In 1770, Samuel Clark, of Cambridge, declares, that in a flourish- ing and respectable civil state the worship of God must be maintained. In 1776, Samuel West, of Dartmouth, says that laws for maintaining public worship and decently sup- porting the teachers of religion are absolutely necessary for the well-being of society. The restraints of religion would be broken down, said Phillips Payson of Chelsea, in 1778, by leaving the subject of public worship to the humors of the multitude. Rulers, affirmed Simeon Howard of Boston, in 1780, should have power to encourage religion, not only by their example, but by their authority; power not only to punish profaneness and impiety, but to provide for the institution and support of the public worship of God. A government which should neglect this would be guilty of a daring affront to Heaven. These facts are sufficient to show that, while no desire existed with the great majority of the American people to retain religious establishments, the doc- trine that the civil and the spiritual order were essentially related still had a powerful hold on the public conscience. Nor should this opinion be regarded as the result of any spe- cial ecclesiastical prejudice. On the contrary, it received its most impressive statement from laymen. Thus when Chief Justice Parsons, who was not at the time a member of any church, entered upon his official career, he took the earliest opportunity to express, in the most solemn manner, his convic- tion of the necessity of a public support of religious institutions; and still later, Judge Story declared that it yet remained a problem to be solved in human affairs, whether any free gov- ernment can be permanent where the public worship of God and the support of religion constitute no part of the policy or duty of the state. It is only when we call to mind facts like these, that we can appreciate the full extent of the revolution in public sentiment which the past century has witnessed. To this result three wholly distinct causes have contributed. The first of these 10 Religion in 4merica, 1776 1876. [Jan. was the number of religious organizations, widely differing in doctrine and worship, which rendered any public support of religion almost impracticable, although many of these bodies regarded such support without disfavor. A second cause was the conscientious objection of certain sects to any recognition of religion by the civil power. The third and most decisive cause was the rise of the secular theory of the state, a part of the great political development of modern times. Those who defended this theory did not profess, like the Baptists, to be governed by any religious scruples, but advanced the broad doctrine that state and church were inherently and essentially distinct. The great representative of this view was Mr. Jeffer- son, and it found its first expression in the famous Virginia act of 1785, which, in after years, he looked back upon as the most creditable achievement of his life. - The phraseology of this act reflects no less distinctly than the Declaration of Indepen- dence the semi-juridical, semi-popular opinions which were fashionable in France, and marks a decisive epoch in the de- velopment of American political theories. The change is illus- trated in the two most famous of our political documents. When the Declaration of Independence was drawn up, it was still deemed proper to insert a solemn appeal to the Supreme Judge of the world, and an expression of reliance upon the protection of Divine Providence; but when the Federal Consti- tution was framed, a transaction surely not less vitally related to the well-being of the nation, all recognition of a higher than secular authority was carefully excluded, the sole allusion to religion being the provision that no religious tests should ever be required as a qualification for any office or public trust under the United States. The First Amendment provided, further, that Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof. The Federal Constitution imposed no restriction upon the religious legislation of the States, and did not directly affect their action, yet its thoroughly secular character came more and more to stamp itself upon them, till at length all trace of the former connection between church and state had disappeared. Laws for the support of public worship lingered in Connecticut till 1816, and in Massachusetts till 1833, and religious tests in 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 11 several States for a few years longer. But public opinion, from which all laws proceed, at length decided that the State, in its essence, was a purely political organism. Provisions regu- lating the public establishment of religion, requiring the com- pulsory support of religious teachers, enforcing attendance upon public worship, restraining the free exercise of religious functions or the free expression of religious belief, have been expunged from the statute-book of every State. Not only does the maxim universally prevail that no particular form of re- ligion should receive the countenance of law, but the far more comprehensive principle, that the spiritual and secular provinces are essentially distinct. Although our practice has not always been consistent with this maxim, yet in the main we have come to accept a secular theory of government. The effect of this upon our political life would furnish an inviting topic for dis- cussion, but we are here concerned only with its bearings upon our religious progress. There is no necessary connection between separation of church and state and the subdivision of the former into a variety of independent sects. On the contrary, the first three centuries of the Christian era show that a catholic and a self- sustaining Christianity are not incompatible. Still, the unique circumstances which shaped the settlement of the thirteen colonies, collecting on these shores the representatives of so many nationalities, at the crisis when their religious convictions were stimulated to the highest pitch, involved contrasts in ecclesiastical and theological opinion which the perfect legal equality subsequently established powerfully heightened. That tendency to carry conscientious differences to the point of sep- aration, which Luther and his compeers bequeathed as a legacy to modern Christendom, was freed in this country from the re- straints which held it partially in check in every Protestant state of Europe. The German elector, the Dutch burgomaster, the English king, however they differed on other points, were all agreed in giving legal preference to some particular form of faith. Here, for the first time, Protestant sects stood on an equal footing, and the national result was a variety of religious organ- izations unexampled in the Old World. This result had already shown itself before the Revolution; and Dr. Gordon, the future 12 Religion in America, 17761876. [Jan. historian of the war, tells us how much he was edified when he landed at Philadelphia, in 1770, by th~ spectacle of Papists, Episcopalians, Moravians, Lutherans, Calvinists, Methodists, and Quakers passing each other peacefully, and in good temper, on the Sabbath, after having broken up their respective assem- blies. What the good doctor saw that Sunday morning was a panorama of our future religious history; for the annals of religion in this country are the annals, not of one great national church, but of many separate communions; and in no other way can we so clearly present to ourselves the external features, at least, of our religious progress as by placing in contrast the leading religious denominations as they existed a century ago and as they exist to-day. Such general comparisons do not, of course, disclose the more subtile modifications of religious life, but they help us to estimate the leading drift. And although it has come to be the fashion, with some, to speak slightingly of the popular religions, it is by no means certain that opinions are less significant simply because numbers have embraced them. At the beginning of the Revolution the Congregationalists, although confined mainly to New England, formed by far the most numerous and influential body. As the total population of the country was still a matter of conjecture, religious statis- tics must, of course, be accepted with allowance; yet, accord- ing to the most careful estimate, the Congregationalists, at this time, did not possess less than seven hundred churches. The number of clergy was rather less. But it was not in numbers simplj that the great strength of the body lay. Unlike any other ecclesiastical organization then existing in the country, the Congregational churches were a vigorous native growth. Their distinctive polity, originally a part of the civil frame- work, was still linked with the same traditions. Hence resulted the important circumstance that they had never been a dissenting body, and had never felt that galling sense of inferiority which is provoked by comparison with more favored rivals. From the beginning they had been distinguished for conscious independence and proud self-respect. They had been sometimes harsh in their bearing towards others; but they had never themselves been welded together by any corn- 1876.] Religion in America, 17161876. 18 mon suffering for their distinctive ecclesiastical discipline. The first generation of their clergy was renowned for learning, and a learned ministry had always been their pride and boast. No pains were spared to save the pulpit from the intrusion of unworthy or unbecoming occupants. So far was this feeling car- ried, that, in Connecticut, a law was passed, at a time when the excitement which attended the Great Awakening threatened to throw off wholesome restraints, providing that no man should be entitled to recognition as a clergyman who was not a graduate of Yale or Harvard, or of some foreign university. While the organization of the churches trenched on extreme democracy, and, in theory, the line between clergyman and layman was almost obliterated, in fact the clerical position was one of almost unrivalled authority and influence. Though pos- sessing no immunities, and connected by no official tie, they formed a distinct order, and enjoyed a social prestige such as was accorded only to the most considerable members of the community. The reverential regard in which the New Eng- land minister of the last century was held has nowhere been so vividly depicted as by the late President Quincy, whose length of honored days almost linked the extreme terms of the period passing under our review. The scene is Andover, and the time a Sunday morning: The whole space before the meeting-house was filled with a waiting, respectful, and expecting multitude. At the moment of service the pastor issued from his mansion, with Bible and manuscript sermon under his arm, with his wife leaning on one arm, flanked by his negro man on his side, as his wife was by her negro woman, the little negroes being distributed, according to their sex, by the side of their respective parents. Then followed every other member of the family, according to age and rank, making often, with family visitants, somewhat of a formidable procession. As soon as it appeared, the con- gregation, as if led by one spirit, began to move towards the door of the church; and, before the procession reached it, all were in their places. As soon as the pastor entered, the whole congregation rose and stood until he was in the pulpit and his family were seated. At the close of the service the congrega. tion stood until he and his family had left the church. Fore- 14 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. noon and afternoon the same course of proceeding was had. Not every country parson, of course, lived in the style of the Rev. Jonathan French, but all were treated with the same deferential homage. This illustration of the social position. of the New England clergyman is not simply a curious picture of the manners.~of the period, but furnishes an important clew to some of the religious changes afterwards witnessed. The clergy formed an extremely aristocratic class, and it was hardly less their social eminence than their speculative teachings which ultimately arrayed against them a portion of the population. Beneath the apparent unity of the Congregational body it was true that silent modifications were going on. The austere Puritanism of an earlier epoch had smoothed its wrinkled front. A taste for amusements had been introduced on which an earlier generation would have frowned. Thus in White- fields time, mixed dancing was very common in New Eng- land. Even the absence of the theatre, on which the law still frowned, was not an unmitigated evil; for a lively French chaplain, who was in Boston near the close of the Revolu- tionary War, assures us that piety was not the only motive that brought the American ladies in crowds to the various places of worship. Deprived of all shows and public diver- sions, the church is the grand theatre where they attend to dis- play their extravagance and finery. There they come dressed off in silks, and overshadowed with a profusion of the finest flowers. With these social innovations were disseminated new modes of thought. There was no avowed antagonism to the past, yet there were not wanting many indications that the sway of old ideas was weakened. The religious revival, which had swept through the churches like a whirlwind, divided the New England clergy into two parties, who already eyed each other with mutual distrust. In the country districts Wigglesworths Day of Doom was, perhaps, taught with the Catechism, for half a century ago there were many living who could recite from memory the doleful stanzas in which the New England Dante makes reprobate infants argue with the Almighty respecting the difficult question of Adams federal headship; but in the towns, especially of Eastern Massachu 1876.j Religion in America, 17761876. 15 setts, the bard whom Mather so much admired was no longer cherished as a sweet singer. Had not the disputes with the mother country turned the minds of men in a different direction, it is not unlikely that the controversy which rent the New England churches asunder might have been precipitated half a century earlier. But the Stamp Act totally eclipsed the Five Points of Calvinism. Mayhew, of the West Church, the recognized chief of the liberal party after 1761, threw all the might of his great fame into the scale of his country. Chauncy succeeded him as a leader of popular opinion, and, like Mayhew, turned wholly from theology to politics. Nor in doing this did they turn to an unfamiliar or uncongenial field. The relation originally existing between religion and the state had always disposed the New England clergy to hold political studies in the highest estimate. Refusing to regard human life as separated into two distinct spheres of action, they believed that God could be glorified in the performance of civil duties, and consistently held their town-meetings in the same house in which they paid Him their public vows. Locke and Sidney were hardly less read than Calvin and Owen. In 1766 we find Hollis writing: More books, especially on gov- ernment, are going to New England. This marked predilec- tion of the New England clergy for political discussion was also a circumstance which had an important bearing on their fortunes in later years. Next in numbers to the Congregationalists stood the Baptists, who were supposed to have, ~!t this time, about three hundred and eighty churches. This numerical strength was, however, less real than apparent, since most of these organizations were insignificant in size and influence. The Baptists were not con- fined to New England, but were scattered through the Colonies, and had become especially numerous in Virginia. The story has often been repeated, that it was from personal observation of the working of a small Baptist church, not far from his residence, that Mr. Jefferson was first impressed with the pe- culiar advantages of direct democratic government. But not- withstanding their numbers the Baptists, both in New England and the South, were held in great disfavor. Originally bring- ing to this country a name identified with the worst excesses 16 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. of the Reformation, and opposing themselves with conscientious pertinacity to long-established ecclesiastical and political usages, they had been made to feel repeatedly the arm of civil power. In Massachusetts they had succeeded, after a long struggle, in winning a tardy recognition of their claims, but under condi- tions which had added to their exasperation. The slender im- portance of the Baptists, as a body, even at the beginning of the Revolution, is plainly enough evinced in the contemptuous treatment which they received at the hands of the Massachu- setts delegation to the Continental Congress. Manning, who was one of their leaders, speaks of them as despised and oppressed. They were even accused of disloyalty to the popular cause. Yet, in spite of all this, they steadily in- creased. Two distinct causes contributed to this growth. Before all else, the J3aptists had insisted on a personal experience of religion as the absolute condition of admission to the Christian Church. But this was precisely the doctrine on which the leaders of the Great Awakening had laid such stress. The great Northampton controversy had turned on this very point. The inevitable effect was not only to direct increased attention to the tenets of the Baptists, but also to carry over to their ranks the numerous congregations of Separatists which had been called into existence by the conservatism of the Congre- gational churches. Backus, the faithful historian of the Baptists, was one of this description. But, besides this, there was an- other and perhaps more potent reason. Religious changes are rarely due to the exclusive influence of religious causes. A distinctive characteristic of the Baptists was the energy with which they extolled the gifts of the Spirit, and advocated an unlearned ministry. On this latter point, as we have already seen, the Congregationalists took high ground. Even Edwards, the most powerful promoter of the Revival, would not allow that a man should enter the pulpit who had had no education at college. Against what seemed to them an unrighteous prejudice in favor of the original tongues, both Separatists and Baptists strenuously maintained that every brother that is qualified by God has a right to preach according to the measure of faith. Lowly preaching became their favorite watchword, and it marked the beginning of a popular tendency 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 17 destined to make itself deeply felt on the religious institutions of New England. The Baptists not only gained a controlling influence with a devout but humble class who had little appetite for the elaborate discussions of the Congregational divines, but they were powerfully helped by the prejudice which exists, in every community, against the exclusiveness of superior culture. The rapid growth of the Baptists was, in large part, a demo- cratic protest; and it is a noticeable fact that even during the war their numbers steadily augmented. Third in numerical importance was the religious organization at that time known as The Church of England in the Colo- nies. Out of New England it included a majority of those whose wealth or social consideration gave them influence in the community. It was the oldest religious body in the Colo- nies; its impressive liturgy was read at Jamestown seven years before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth. In all the Southern Colonies it had on its side the support of law, and everywhere out of New England the powerful countenance of official favor. But neither years nor social consideration nor legal support had secured for it a hardy growth. - Even in the Colonies where it was most firmly planted, its clergy were de- pendent for ordination on the mother country, and in New England both for ordination and maintenance. In New Eng- land they remained to the last hardly more than missionaries. There existed a wide-spread suspicion that in some way they were rendered subservient to the political designs of the British government. The scheme of erecting an Episcopate over the Colonies contributed, Mr. Adams tells us, as. much as any other cause, to close thinking on the constitutional authority of Parliament. Nor was political prejudice, by any means, the only thing that had impaired its influence. In Maryland and Virginia, where its strength was greatest, the careless lives of the clergy had alienpted numbers of those who were sincerely attached to its forms. Before any political antago- nisms had been excited, the Church was becoming more and more unpopular, because it was not considered as promoting piety. Jonathan Boucher, a clergyman of much intelligence, long settled in Virginia, whose sermons throw a clear light both upon the political and religious issues of the period, VOL. CXXII. NO. 250. 2 18 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. frankly confesses that whatever might be the case with the people of the North, those of the Middle and Southern Prov- inces were certainly not remarkable for taking much interest in the concerns of religion. After the overthrow of the estab- lishment, a considerable proportion of the Virginia clergy con- tinued to enjoy the glebes, without performing a single act of sacred duty. It was estimated that at least two thirds of the population of that colony had attached themselves to other religious bodies. The Revolution bore, of necessity, on this church with crushing weight. It was reduced almost to annihilation; many despaired as to the perpetuating of the communion otherwise than in connection with an establish- ment. When the struggle for independence began, the clergy, with a few notable exceptions, were hostile or lukewarm. Their conduct was conscientious, hut it was not the less fatal to their popular influence. At the close of the war many entertained scruples about taking the oath of allegiance required in some of the States, while others declined to conduct public worship on account of their canonical obligation to use the unabridged liturgy of the Church of England. Doubts were even ex- pressed by some of the laity as to the desirableness of retain- ing the Episcopal office. In Virginia, where there was no prejudice against the ecclesiastical constitution of the church, Patrick Henry had hurled the hot thunderbolts of his wrath against the tithe-gathering clergy; in New England, where it stood opposed to local traditions; the breath of popular sentiment set so strongly against it, that its continuance was almost as precarious as that of a newly transplanted tree amidst the sweepings of the whirlwinds. Even in Pennsyl- vania, where neither. of the influences just referred to operated, Dr. White was, for some time, the only clergyman. About equal to the Church of England in number of congre- gations, though not in clerical f4~rce, were the Presbyterians, who did not exist in the Colonies as an organized body till the early part of the eighteenth century. At the epoch of our survey they numbered three hundred churches, their main strength lyiiig in the Middle States. The original members of this communion were almost exclusively of Scotch or Irish- Scotch descent, a circumstance which has colored their whole 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 19 history. Unlike the Congregationalists of New England, with whom at this time they heartily sympathized in theological opinion, they had brought with them to this country a com- pletely developed ecclesiastical polity, for which they had suf- fered bitter persecution, and to which they clung with the devotion which sacrifice inspires. The Congregationalists, their veins flowing with pure English blood, had boldly struck out new paths; the Presbyterians, with the resolute tenacity characteristic of the Scottish race, clung to the old. The Great Awakening, which shook Congregationalism to its centre, had also for a time divided them, but attachment to a common system soon triumphed over Old Side and New Side differences, and the controversy left no permanent memorial but the famous college which, founded by the radical party, has since become the Ehrenbreitstein of Presbyterian conser- vatism. The early Presbyterians brought with them profound respect for letters, and they insisted hardly less strenuously than the Congregationalists that the teachers of the people should be themselves well taught. In the ranks of their clergy were men of varied and accurate learning, not a few having been trained in foreign universities. Some were emi- nent for classical scholarship. If inferior to the New England clergy in aptitude for metaphysical speculation, they were equal, at least, in Biblical learning, and superior in pulpit power. Their eminence as preachers was mainly due to the fact that they were trained to speak without notes, while the New England minister was closely confined to his elaborately written manuscript. Even up to the close of the last century the prejudice against preaching written sermons was still so strong in the Presbyterian church, that a mans reputation would be ruined should his manuscript be seen. The Pres- byterian clergy also cultivated at all times the practice of Scriptural exposition, while in New England reading a chapter of the Bible in public worship was looked upon as a long step in the direction of a liturgy. Dr. Hopkins, who ventured upon the dangerous feat during his ministry in Western Mas- sachusetts, brought on himself a storm of opposition. When the Revolution came, the Presbyterians were stanch advo- cates of popular rights, and in the Middle States were the main 20 Religion in America, 17761876. [Jan. support of the cause of independence. All their traditions were on the side of resistance to oppression. Among them at this time were numbered those whose fathers had fought in the dikes of Holland and on the bloody fields of France, as well as in Highland glens and behind the walls of Perry. Nothing in their history or temper disposed them to remain silent when a great struggle was going on. Neither in Scotland nor in this country did they hesitate to act according to their convic~ tions. The direction of their political sympathy was shown in the name selected for their college, Nassau Hall, and from the presidency of Nassau Hall the accomplished Wither-, spoon went to take his seat in the Continental Congress. The Revolution reinforced the Presbyterian church by establishing the republican principle on which the Presbyterian polity was rested. Of the minor religious bodies existing a century ago less need be said, as they influenced but little the general current of events. Of these the Reformed Dutch, the Lutheran, and the German Reformed were in numbers nearly equal, each having about sixty congregations. But the Reformed Dutch, though long established and highly respectable for the charac- ter and learning of its clergy, was almost debarred from growth by its close dependence upon the Church of Holland and its persistent use of the Dutch language in public worship, a prac- tice kept up in many churches till the beginning of the pres& nt century. The Lutheran Church, linked in its origin with memories of Gustavus and Oxenstern, was confined to the German emigration, a large proportion of its clergy having been educated at the University of Halle or at Frankes Orphan-House. The German Reformed, as its name implies, included that part of the German population which refused assent to the Augsburg Confession. In form of government the three were Presbyterian. The small body of Associate Presbyterians, a secession from the Scottish Kirk, should be reckoned in the same family. According to Bishop Englands estimate, the whole number of Roman Catholic clergy in the country did not exceed twenty-six, though the congregations were perhaps twice as numerous. The rites of the church were publicly celebrated nowhere but in Philadelphia. A few 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 21 gentle Moravians had followed Zinzindorf to the New World, and their communion, Episcopal in government, but Lutheran in doctrine, comprised eight congregations. Methodism had been introduced, but whether by Strawbridge in 1764, or by Embury in 1766, is still disputed. Up to the Revolution, how- ever, the body had no distinct existence in this country; and as soon as hostilities commenced, all the preachers except Asbury hurried back to England. As early as 1770, John Murray, whose curious autobiography should be studied by all who would understand the early history of this country, had begun to preach the doctrine of universal salvation; but as on other points he did not differ from the orthodox creed he was at first admitted to Congregational and even to Episcopal pul- pits. The Quakers were still numerous in the colony which Penn had founded, and the great Lisbon earthquake sent to Newport a small but wealthy society of Jews. The summer visitor, strolling through the streets of the fair seaport town, pauses to gaze at ihe sepulchral stones carved with strange characters which recall a faith whose hoary traditions make our modern creeds seem but of yesterday. Closed are the portals of their Synagogue, No Psalms of David now the silence break; No Rabbi reads the ancient Decalogue In the grand dialect the Prophets spake. The first impression that we derive from the foregoing facts is that of the diversity of religious belief existing in the Colo- nies, but a more careful analysis will show that beneath this apparent diversity there was a widely pervading unity. Be- tween the ecclesiastical polity of the Congregationalists and the Baptists there was no essential difference; while the systems of the Presbyterians, the Lutheran, the Dutch Reformed, and the German Reformed were alike in everything but the nomencla- ture adopted. And between all these, with the exception of the Lutheran, comprising together more than three fourths of all the churches, there existed the most entire harmony of dog- matic faith. That faith, whether embodied in the Assemblys Catechism, the Heidelberg Confesson, or the Articles of the Synod of Dort, was the logical and precise system which the Reformer who pierced to the roots had knit with hooks of 22 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. steel to the sternest hearts of the sixteenth century. It was the faith of John Knox, of William the Silent, and of Admiral Coligny; and could the heroic founder of the ill-fated Hugue- not colony in Florida have lifted the veil that hid the two suc- ceeding centuries, and seen the flag of Geneva flying in almost undisputed triumph from the Merrimac to the St. Johns, he might have deemed the dark crime of Menendez more than avenged. These churches, too, whether in the parochial au- tonomy. of the Congregationalists or the synodical federation of the Presbyterians, were singularly in harmony with the political movement; and that republican states and republican churches would flourish side by side seemed a conclusion ad- mitting of no doubt. In 1783 the famous Dr. Stiles, the presi- dent of Yale College, preached the Election Sermon before the Legislature of Connecticut. His inspiring theme was The Future Glory of the United States, and, warming to the hazar- dous role of a prophet, he declared that when we look forward and see this country increased to forty or fifty millions, while we see all the religious sects increased into respectable bodies, we shall doubtless find the united body of the Congregational and Presbyterian churches making an equal figure with any two of them. Then enumerating the lesser sects, he consid- erately adds: There are Westleians, Mennonists, and others, all of which will make a very inconsiderable amount in com- parison with those who will give the religious complexion to America. And there was no man living at that time whose opinion on this matter was entitled to more respect. We have now reached the limit of forty millions, and in the light of the census of 1810 the vaticinations of the learned president well deserve to be regarded as curiosities of litera- ture. The Congregationalists, who in his day were double the size of any other body, now rank as seventh, while the West- leians, whom he hardly names, stand largely in advance of all the rest. A century ago the more important religious bodies were ranked in the following order: Congregational, Baptist, Church of England, Presbyterian, Lutheran, German Reformed, Dutch Reformed, Roman Catholic. By the census of 1870 they stood: Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian, Roman Catholic, Christian, Lutheran, Congregational, Protestant Epis 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 23 copal. Tested not as in the foregoing comparison by nmnber of churches, but by number of sittings, the order remains the same for the four larger, but the Congregationalists and Epis- copalians would outrank the Lutherans and Christians. Tested again by value of church property, the Roman Catholics come second, and the Episcopalians fifth. Yet far mor& striking than these relative contrasts is the enormous growth of Ameri- can Christianity as a whole, a growth which, as the figures clearly show, has more than kept pace with the rapid stride of popula- tion. A careful estimate makes the whole number of religious organizations existing in the country at the beginning of the Revolution less than nineteen hundred and fifty. The total population wa~ then estimated at three and a half millions, which would show a church for every seventeen hundred souls. By the recent census, the total number of church organizations is returned at more than seventy-two thousand, which, in a population of thirty-eight millions, would show a church for every five hundred and twenty-nine. In other words, while the population has multiplied eleven-fold, the churches have multi- plied nearly thirty-seven fold. The aggregate value of church property cannot be subjected to the same test, since we have no means of estimating the amount a century ago; but in 1870 it reached the considerable sum of three hundred and fifty-four millions. An illustration of the working of the voluntary prin- ciple is furnished in the fact that the church which seemed hopelessly shipwrecked by the Revolution, and which, as some of its most sincere supporters thought, had no prospect of ex- isting without the public aid on which it had so long depended, now ranks for its property as fifth in the whole land. A recent Bampton lecturer affirmed that the experiments of voluntaryism and dis-establishment, when tried in England under the most favorable circumstances, had proved signal failures. In this country the church of Hooker and Tillotson has certainly shown herself able to go alone. But the most extraordinary increase of ecclesiastical wealth is seen with the Methodists and Roman Catholics, because a century ago they had abso- lutely nothing. Indeed, the rapid ratio of increase during the last two decade~ might well attract attention, were it not that this vast amount of property is distributed among so many 24 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. different bodies. Such statistics are of course very unsatis- factory tests of the real growth of religion. Even could the precise number of profeased Christians be ascertained, we should still be quite as much in the dark. The subtle forces of the invisible world disdain the rules of arithmetic. Yet statistics, after all, afford us the oniy means of reaching general conclu- sions; and much as we hear of the decay of faith, and of the growth of religious indifference, it seems certain, from this comparison, that the positive institutions of religion have not, during the last century, lost their hold on the mass of the American people. A more zealous and liberal support has nowhere been accorded to them. Facts like these lie, however, on the surface, and similar comparisons might be multiplied to any length. It will form a more instructive task to trace the less obvious phenomena of our complex religious life. We have seen that a century ago the speculative faith of the various religious bodies then exist- ing in America was singularly homogeneous. The church organizations that gave tone to American society heartily agreed in accepting the most precise dogmatic system to which Protestantism had given birth. Perhaps no feature of our religious progress is more striking than the wide-spread re- action that has been witnessed, not so much against any par- ticular tenet of the old theology as against the whole dogmatic apprehension of Christianity. How far this reaction has been helped by any change of political sentiment is a curious ques- tion, but one not easily answered. Mr. Lecky expresses the opinion that, if in the sphere of religion the rationalistic doc- trine of personal merit and demerit should ever completely su- persede the theological doctrine of hereditary merit and demerit, the change will mainly be effected by the triumph of democratic principles in the sphere of politics~ and he might have drawn an illustration of his theory from the fact that the great religious revolt in this country from the exclusiveness of Cal- vinism was coincident with the great democratic revolt from the conservative politics of the founders of the Republic. If a connection could be established between the two, it would be by no means the first instance of two movements essentially distinct, yet due, in some measure, to the same general causes~ 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 25 This religious reaction assumed various forms, and was attended with very different results~ Its most direct and obvious effect was seen in the rise of new religious sects, but its influence was destined to be powerfully felt in modifying some already existing. One of its earliest fruits was the formation, near the close of the last century, of the United Brethren in Christ, made up of seceders from the German Reformed and Lutheran bodies, and now numbering nearly fifteen hundred churches. The numerous sect of Christians, which sprang up simultaneously in three different localities, near the begin- nmg of the present century, and now numbers more than thirty-five hundred churches, was an illustration of the same movement. So was the remarkable Declaration of Alex- ander Campbell in 1807. But by far the most important phase of this reaction is shown in the en6rmous growth of Methodism. It would argue a most superficial acquaintance with this great movement to define it as essentially a protest; but it is not the less true that in the religious history of this country Methodism represents a profound popular reaction. In this light the rise of this great and influential body must be viewed as the most signal religious fact which the past century presents. When their first conference met at Baltimore in 1784 they collected but sixty preachers, and it was reckoned that in the whole country they could muster but twenty more. IDr. Stiles did them no injustice when he spoke of them in his Election Sermon as very inconsiderable. They were not only few in number,but poor and unknown; they worshipped in barns, in back streets, and beneath the canopy of heaven. By the census of 1870 they were credited with more than twenty- five thousand parish organizations, and a church property of sev- enty millions. Their own statistics for the past year give more than twenty-six thousand preachers, and a church property of more than eighty millions. The churches have increased at the rate of two for each secular day throughout the year. They are now by far the most numerous religious organization in the land, arid with a zeal and confidence fully proportioned to their strength. A phenomenon so striking cannot be explained but from the operation of some powerful cause. The growth of Methodism may be attributed in part to its wonderful Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. organization; yet it would seem that in this country the ex- tremely autocratic character of that organization, while securing it extraordinary efficiency, could not have gained it popular favor. The vital power of Methodism must be sought, not in its form, but in its spirit. It is impossible to account for its rapid growth, save on the hypothesis that it met a great popular want. And it is equally impossible not to recognize the fact that this adaptation lay in the sharp contrast which it pre- sented to the prevailing faith. The immense popular influ- ence of Methodism lay in its bold appeal from the theology of the intellect to the theology of the feelings. Calvin- ism, throughout all its camps, ~ lay intrenched in the out- works of the understanding; but to souls sated with theologi- cal formulas, Methodism, with its direct intuitions of divine truth, came like springs of water in a dry and thirsty land. Wesley rejected all creeds but the simple symbol of the Apostles; and if his American disciples departed from his example in adopting articles of faith, they conformed to his spirit in making these articles a simple compendium of the Universal Church, excluding even the peculiar features of the Wesleyan theology. They insisted, always and everywhere, that religious faith is not a logical conviction. Making their ap- peal at once to mans spiritual nature, laying no stress on nice theological distinctions, they naturally held knowledge of Greek and Latin in light esteem as a qualification for saving souls. Not one of the men who founded Methodism in America, with the single exception of Coke, had received a college education. Asbury, whose influence was incomparably greater than that of Coke, had never enjoyed this advantage. The great feature of early Methodism was its faith in immediate inspiration. Its leaders lived, like Loyola, in a world of ecstatic visions. Not only were they inwardly called of God, but sometimes, like Garrettson, they heard the audible voice of the Spirit. The religious Genius of New England had recognized in love the benign sum of all morality; but the doctrine which his follow- ers had obscured with the metaphysics of the will, became with the Methodist a burning impulse. The Quaker had ex- alted the Inner Light, but what with the disciple of Fox had sunk into an inoffensive quietism, with the disciple of Wesley 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 27 became the impulse to an unexampled effort. It was estimated that Asbury, during the forty-five years of his untiring minis- try, rode a distance that would have taken him twelve times round the earth. When we read the story which one of the early missionaries of Methodism tells of himself, but a story which hundreds, doubtless, might have repeated, I traversed the mountains and valleys, frequently on foot, with my knap- sack on ~my back, guided by Indian paths in the wilderness where it was not expedient to take a horse; and I had often to wade through morasses half-leg deep in mud and water; frequently satisfying my hunger with a piece of bread and pork from my knapsack, quenching my thirst from a brook, and resting my weary limbs on the leaves of the trces, who does not seem to hear in these words the ring of the verses, in journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils in the wil- derness, in weariness and painfulness, in hunger and thirst; and who can doubt that the causes which gave Methodism its early success were the same that first carried the gospel to Damascus, to Antioch, to Corinth, and to C~esars palace? As Methodism has exchanged weakness for strength, and poverty for wealth, its outward aspect has greatly altered; the plain meeting-house has become the highly decorated church; the unlettered preacher has learned to emulate the culture which he once held so cheap; colleges and theological schools have been generously endowed, and a powerful periodical press dis- cusses with dignity and erudition doctrines which once strug- gled for utterance from burning tongues; yet neither learning nor culture were the weapons with which Methodism achieved its early triumphs, and which caused it, in the striking words carved on Philip Emburys tomb, to beautify the earth with salvation. At first glance it may seem that the growth of the Baptist denomination, which now ranks as second in the land in point of numbers, contradicts what has been advanced, since the Baptists, in the usual acceptation of that name, are a Calvin- istic body. But while it is true that this body, as a whole, accept the modified Calvinism of Andrew Fuller, yet it is not the less true that their distinctive tenet involves a logical denial of that doctrine of hereditary merit and demerit 28 Religion in America; 1776.. 1876. [Jan. which lies at the base of the Calvinistic scheme. Every spec- ulative objection to infant baptism was equally an argument against the realistic conception which pervaded the old theol- ogy. As a natural result of this attitude no characteristic of the Baptists has been more marked than their contempt for all the historical statements of Christianity. They have made their appeal to Scripture as the sole authority. This indeed is defined by their most eminent American representative as their fundamental principle; ~and to this principle, through all their history, they have steadfastly adhered. The much- vaunted maxim, The Bible and the Bible only, has found with them its most consistent advocates. Like the Methodists, they have undergone, in the course of a century, a great change in external features. Renouncing their preference for lowly preaching, they have become zealous promoters of ministerial education; among their divines are men whose names are ornaments of American scholarship, but it is a noticeable fact that their valuable contributions to religious literature have all been in the line of Biblical exegesis; to speculative theology they have made no important addition. Nor can it be doubted that their great popular success is due to the concrete simplicity of their creed, coupled with their extremely democratic polity. And whatever their technical theological position, their whole denominational strain has been in the direction of revolt from antiquity, tradition, and church authority. But the boldest renunciation of dogmatic faith was witnessed among the descendants of the Puritans. This outbreak had two phases. The restrained and scholarly Arminianism which made its appearance first, appealed to Scripture from human creeds; yet in its philosophical method and formal conceptions of religious truth it did not differ from the Calvinism to which it stood opposed. Both accepted Locke, whose system sapped the foundations of the old theology. The real revolt was the rise of the Transcendental school, which threw all external authority to the winds, and owned no guide but the spiritual intuitions. The Address to the Divinity School was the veritable proclamation of a new gospel, a gospel which indeed ravished the souls of the elect, but proved too subtle and ethereal to become bread of life to millions. This ambrosial 1876.] Religion in America, 17761876. 29 food was transmuted into homelier diet by Mr. Parker, and has served to furnish the board of the later Free Religionists. In resisting the Unitarians the more numerous section of the Congregationalists were betrayed into a position which their own traditions did not justify, and the way to the Lords table was fenced with sound forms of words. But various in- fluences soon began to work in an opposite direction. The Evangelical revival, by laying as it did such stress on emotional experience, weakened the hold of objective truth. The great impulse given at Andover to Biblical study, under the inspiring lead of Stuart, disclosed the weakness of the old exegesis, and introduced the more comprehensive methods of German criti- cism. And a small, but thoughtful and cultivated section, deriving from Coleridge the fruitful maxim that Christianity is not a theory or speculation, but a living process, rallied the Transcendental philosophy to the support of Christian faith. Thus the orthodox mind of New England was gradually loosed from its old moorings. The change was shown less in direct antagonism to any specific doctrine than in silent modification of mental habits. What had been betokened by more than one significant sign was at last brought clearly to light in the Congregational Council convened at Boston in 1865, an assem- bly Which justly attracted attention for its intelligence and dignity. At this convention an attempt was made to agree upon some doctrinal basis for the denomination; but after earnest discussion the utmost that could be accomplished was to affirm substantially the Confessions of 1648 and 1680, in face of the declaration made by a leading member of the body that there is language in every one of these old stand- ards which not a man upon this floor receives. Many pre- ferred a declaration according to the fresh language of the present time, but the committee to whom the matter was re- ferred declined to present one, for the reason that it could not be harmoniously adopted. And in taking their action it was expressly understood that the council affirmed those venerable formulas only in a qualified manner. A compromise document was subsequently adopted by the council, with much solemnity, at Plymouth. But so rapid was the march of opin- ion that at the Oberlin Council, held only six years later, the 80 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. declaration adopted at Plymouth was discarded on the ground of committing the denomination to old and minute confes- sions; and a new one was adopted, being in substance the great doctrines of the Christian faith, of which the odd re- mark was made that it did not perfectly express the exact wishes of any party. Of this council a very high authority declared, It may truly and frankly be called a new departure. This new departure consisted in the fact that, without disown- ing old confessions, it refused to make them tests of fellow- ship. Accordingly the council received as full members the Kentucky delegates, who distinctly explained that their churches were organized on the evangelical basis, ignoring all distinction between Calvinist and Arminian. There can be no doubt, wrote a prominent member of the council, that the progress of Congregationalism has been greatly retarded by the former limitation of its denominational fellowship to Calvinistic ministers and churches. Here is a distinct repudiation of the position asserted with so much earnestness sixty years before. It is a characteristic of American religious life, compounded as it is of such various elements, that it presents many diverse phenomena; and we should run the risk of very imperfect generalization if any one class were made too prominent. Coupled with this marked reaction against a dogmatic appre- liension of religion, there has been a tendency equally marked and equally important in an opposite direction, a tendency that does not any less deserve to be regarded as a representative movement in our religious history. In all countries where a connection between church and state is recognized, whether Catholic or Protestant, the ecclesiastical power is subject to important limitation, for the permanent contact of the spir- itual and temporal authority requires that the sphere of either should be precisely marked. This rule holds as well in Portugal as it holds in Prussia; Thus when the relations of the two are not inimical, the free action of the church is fettered. Hence in this country, where for the first time since Constantine the religious element has been left absolutely without restraint, conditions of ecclesiastical development have been supplied such as exist nowhere else in Christendom. 1876.] Religion inArnerica,1~T761S76. 31 Each religious organization has been allowed free scope to unfold according to its own interior law, and solve after its own way its distinctive ecclesiastical problem. The result has been a quickening of ecclesiastical activity, and an impulse to ecclesiastical development, which already constitutes a signifi- cant feature of our history, and promises to revive questions which were supposed to . have been forever settled. Here, again, an interesting question presents itself, the question whether any connection can be traced between this tendency to strong religious organizations and the general laxity in our political ideas. It is certain that the ecclesiastical life of the Middle Age was greatly stimulated by the prevailing political anarchy, and ft seems not unlikely that the increasing fluctua- tion of our own political life may have disposed some to look with more favor upon stable ecclesiastical forms. But what- ever may be the occult cause of the phenomenon, its existence is beyond question. It is a common impression that the pre- vailing impulse of American religion is to split up into an end- less variety of sects. 11gw can I live in a country, Dr. Dbllinger is reported to have said, where they found a new church every day? But nothing appears more cextain, from a review of our religious history, than the gradual working of a tendency in precisely th& opposite direction. The multiplicity of sects is, indeed, a patent fact, and in a land where expres- sion of opinion on all subjects is unrestrained, and where com- bination for every purpose is allowed, such a result is not sur- prising; but most of the petty organizations that go to swell the portentous aggregate are but ripples on the surface of the stream, appearing for a moment and then vanishing forever. In their most repulsive forms they are mere social excres.~ cences, deriving their morbid growth mainly from foreign sources. The most characteristic fact of our religious his- tory, as the census clearly shows, is not the tendency of American Christianity to split up into a multiplicity of sects, but its disposition to aggregaie itself under a few great denom- inational types. This conservative preference of the vast majority for stable ecclesiastical order is a leading and unmis- takable distinction of our religious life. Whatever may have been the tendency at an earlier period, at the present time it is undeniably in4his direction. 32 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. We have already noticed that the religious organizations which were transplanted to this country seemed, under the inspiration of our institutions, to acquire new energy. This result was witnessed with the Methodists, who, in England, during Wesleys life, had clung to the skirts of the Establish- ment but here boldly organized a complete church, and pro- ceeded to the institution of bishops. The success of the Methodists was due hardly less to their autocratic disci- pline than to their burning zeal. And it should be observed that it is the recognized value of the system which has com- mended it to popular regard. But a more important illustra- tion of the same principle is presented in the Presbyterian church. The history of this influential body, which now ranks as third in the country, is especially instructive, for the reason that its uniform and healthy growth is not connected, as is that of the Methodists, with exceptional phenomena, but is the evident result of the persistent and intelligent adminis- tration of an admirable polity. In the face of the proudest monatchy of Europe, it had proclaimed its capacity of self- direction, and in the new field which this country opened it was not backward in asserting a logical development. No sooner was the Revolution ended, than the Presbyterians took the first steps towards a complete organization; and before the Federal government had gone into operation, the constitu- tion of the church was adopted as it now stands. From the outset it assumed the character of a missionary church, and in the earliest General Assembly a plan was adopted for promot- ing the evangelization of the West; and in the most gloomy period of our religious history, the closing decade of the last century, when the wide diffusion of French Revolutionary maxims threatened the dissolution of religious society, the growth of the Presbyterian church was uniform and rapid. Nothing is so characteristic of this church as the resolution with which it has adhered to its theological and its ecclesi- astical traditions. Amid the great movements of modern thought, it has stood unflinchingly to its Confession, and in the great crises of its history been thoroughly consistent with itself. When the West was frenzied with religious excite- ment, rather than relax its requirements for the ministry, she 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 38 submitted to the great Cumberland secession of 1810, prefer- ring well-tried method to mere numerical increase; and when, in consequence of the famous Plan of Union, it found itself invaded with New England usages and New England ideas, it preferred the excision of nearly half its members rather than not purge itself of the foreign element. What- ever successes it has gained have not been gained by denying its principles, or by making terms with its opponents. The steady growth of this powerful communion, in the face of its uncompromising assertion of a rigid dogmatic system, furnishes a striking illustration of the decided preference of a most intel- ligent section of the American people for a vigorous and well- administered ecclesiastical system. The Reunion of 1871, when, after a separation of more than thirty years, the two branches of the Presbyterian church were once more happily united, whether considered in its immediate or its ultimate consequences, is second in importance to no recent event of our religious history. It fixed universal attention as showing that the tide had turned, and that the weary period of discord and secession was to give way to a new period of union and con- solidation. There seems no good reason why other Presby- terian bodies should not follow the example. This marked preference of the majority of our people for well-ordered system may be still more conclusively shown from contrasting the ~progress of the Congregational and Pres- byterian bodies. A century ago the Congregationalists were by far the more numerous and influential. The two were in close sympathy, and Congregational delegates were allowed to sit and vote in the General Assembly. Both cordially united in the Plan of Union for combined missionary operations at the West; but it was found that whenever the stronger organ- ization came into contact with the weaker, the weaker was uni- formly swallowed up, and the result was an immense loss of strength to the Congregational communion. It would, however, be an error to represent that the change in the relative strength of the Presbyterians and Congregation- alists was due wholly to difference of polity. Other causes contributed to weaken Congregationalism in its own seats. The proclivity of the Congregational clergy for political dis VOL. cxxmI.No. 250. 3 34 Religion in America, 17T6 18T(~. [Jan. cussion, so conspicuous in the period preceding the Revolution, was hardly less marked during the stormy times that preluded the memorable Civil Revolution of Eighteen Hundred. Almost to a man the Congregational clergy of New England were on the Federal side. The biographer of Mr. Jefferson complains with bitterness that the ministers were all for Ham- ilton. As an inevitable result, the Democratic triumph swept froip the New England parishes all whose sympathies were pledged to the victorious faction, and considerable numerical strength, if not much piety, was carried over to rival congre- gations. But the fatal wound was inflicted upon New Eng- land Congregationalism, not by an enemy, but by its own hand. The doctrinal antagonism which the Revolution for a time had smothered blazed up at the publication of Belshams Life of Lindsey; and when Channing preached his famous ser mon at Baltimore, the divorce between the main body of Con- gregationalists and their oldest traditions and finest culture was complete. Henceforth the New England Israel, that had come out of Egypt so gloriously, pursued two separate paths, and presented the unedifying spectacle of a house divided against itself. This impulse of our leading religious bodies to a complete logical development has naturally led to a sharper accentua- tion of ecclesiastical distinctions. The Protestant Episcopal Church furnishes a striking illustration of this tendency. At- taining its complete organization in 1789, when White and Provost were consecrated at Lambeth Palace, during its early years it reflected the moderate temper of the English Church of the last century. Its leading characteristic was eminent respectability; its preaching had the mild accent of that apologetic period when, as Johnson put it, the Apostles were tried regularly once a week on charge of committing forgery. Bishop White, whose unswerving support of the cause of mdc- pendence showed that he was lacking in no manly element, as a preacher was dignified without animation, and much esteemed for solid and judicious instruction. Bishop Jarvis was noted for an unusually slow and deliberate pronuncia- tion, a characteristic not suggestive of excessive fervor. The amiable Madison at all periods of his life was much addicted 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 85 to scientific studies. The early style of Bishop Griswold, like that which generally prevailed in the church at the time, was rather moral than evangelical. Though the church de- rived its ecclesiastical legitimacy from England, and made the Anglican Church so far as possible its model, yet the altered conditions of society necessitated some not unimportant changes. Though the American bishops retained the name and ecclesiastical functions, they lacked the civil rank and ample revenues which conferred so much additional lustre on the English prelates; and the absence of patronage threw increased power into the hands of the parishes. But the most important constitutional change was one carried through by the influence of Bishop White, which introduced the novel principle of lay representation. In consequence of these mod- ifications, the Protestant Episcopal Church corresponded nearly, if not exactly, with the model which Baxter declared would suit himself and the more moderate Presbyterians. Nothing could be more marked than the mildness with which the claims of the new church were asserted. The popular prejudice which still lingered against the office of bishop, and the fashion of objecting to it prevailing even among a consid- erable proportion of the church, led to a cautious definition of Episcopal titles. The Convention of Maryland, in 1783, recognized other Christian churches under the American Revolution. The Virginia Convention, two years later, while expressing a decided preference for uniformity in doctrine and worship, declared that this should be pursued with liberality and moderation. Where the church, before the Revolution, had been established by law, its tone was uniformly most con- ciliatory; where, on the contrary, it had been in opposition; its tone was most pronounced. The stanchest Churchmen were in Connecticut. When Griswold moved from Connecticut to Rhode Island, sermons which had been preached with applause in the former State were received with great disfavor by Episcopalians in Providence and Newport. Cokes friendly overture to Bishop White, proposing a union of the Episcopa- hans with the Methodists, drew from the latter the reply that he did not think the difficulties insuperable, provided there was a conciliatory disposition on both sides. The first evi 36 Beligion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. deuce of a change of tone was the publication, in 1804, of Hobarts Companion to the Altar, in which, not the nature of the sacraments, but the lawful authority by which they might be administered was discussed. This provoked the memorable controversy with Dr. Mason, in which the distinc- tive claims of the Episcopal Church were for the first time publicly set forth. These were further asserted in Hobarts Apology for Apostolic Order, published in 1807. The emi- nent personal qualities of Hobart marked him for a party leader, and his elevation to the Episcopate, a little later, proved a ~igaal epoch in the history of the church. In a Pas- toral Letter of 1815 he took strong grounds against co-opera- tion with other Christians in promoting religious objects, and, in defiance of a growing sentiment represented in the forma- tion of the American Bible Society, he boldly declared that all the differences among Christians are on points subordinate and non-essential is an unfounded assertion. For a time these views found a weighty counterpoise in the Evangelical party, but, by degrees, what was first described as bold and startling came to be accepted maxims, and by the action of the Convention of 1844 the church was placed conclusively upon Hobarts ground. And the decided growth of the Epis- copal Church dates from the period when it clearly enunciated its distinctive theory. The later controversies which have disturbed its peace have not touched this principle, and those who differ most widely on questions which the Tractarian and Ritualist have raised are heartily agreed upon what constitutes the Church of the true Order. The tendency so clearly revealed of American Christianity to aggregate itself in a few great denominational families, stren- uously affirming theological or ecclesiastical tenets that are mutually exclusive, deserves special attention in its bearing upon the prospective development of a truly catholic type of Christianity. It might have been supposed that the contact, upon a perfectly equal footing, of so many Chri8tian bodies, each zealously asserting its distinctive faith, would have pro- voked such mutual comparison as would gradually have brought into clear relief the essential truths which all were agreed in recognizing. Professing to receive the same Gospel, 1876.] Reb~,iion in America, 1776 1876. 87 it might have seemed that somewhere there must have existed substantial harmony; but no such result has followed. It is amazing to note how slight has been the reciprocal influence which these bodies have exerted. They seem to have pursued their separate paths, coming into contact with each others opinions only to controvert them. With individuals, of course, changes of opinion have been frequent; but so far as concerns the formal affirmations of the leading religious bodies, with the sole exception of the Congregationalists, there has not been the slightest change. With most of these bodies no modi- fication has been thought of; in one or two cases, where the relaxation of some distinctive denominational feature has been suggested, it has drawn forth a storm of indignation. The irreligious world has laughed at the spectacle of an emi- nent philanthropist actually brought to trial on the atrocious charge of singing hymns with Christians of another name. It is evident that our leading religious organizations have done nothing in the way of promoting any external Christian unity. There are many to whom this state of things is not repugnant, who defend the denominational type of Christianity as the natural effiorescence of the Reformation, and rest content with it as the ultimate achievement of Protestant Christianity. On the other hand, there have been some who have protested against the evangelical heresy that the normal state of the Church universal is a state of schism. From many quarters have come eloquent expressions of the conviction that the sectarian system, however much it may stimulate zeal, does not furnish the conditions of the finest and noblest Christian culture. But no adequate remedy has thus far been proposed, and American Christianity seems hopelessly committed to the denominational experiment. This drift of American religious sentiment towards the for- mation of compact and powerful religious organizations not only affects the relations of these bodies to one another, it is already presenting novel and difficult problems in relation to the civil power. To comprehend fully the most important of these, it must be remembered that for many years two antago- nistic opinions have been developing themselves with respect to the functions of political society. On the one hand the maxim 88 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. has been steadily gaining ground, that these functions are purely secular, and in consequence the formal relations be- tween religion and the state have been everywhere annulled. But on the other hand there has been a tendency as marked on the part of the civil power to invade the spiritual province by undertaking the support and control of education. For it will hardly be denied that even in its rudimentary forms education touches the springs of spiritual life. Precisely at this point the Roman Catholic Church emerges into significance as an element in our complex ecclesiastical equation. The growth of the Roman Catholic Church, which according to the census now ranks as fourth in order reckoning by num- ber of parishes, but second if church property be made the test, has been viewed by some with grave apprehension, though, as it would seem, on insufficient grounds. This great numerical increase can be accounted for by our enormous foreign einigra- tion. It has been doubted even whether the increase has kept pace with the emigration, and whether the church has not actually lost in strength by the transplanting of so many of its members to the New World. There seems to be no way of arriving at any precise estimate of the Roman Catholic popu- lation; but if the ratio of increase has outstripped the aggre- gate gain of the nation, the same would equally hold of the larger Protestant bodies. The fact that the members of this communion are mostly congregated in great centres, gives them an exceptional local influence, and exaggerates the popular notion of their actual power. Less fettered by the civil au- thority than in any other portion of Christendom, they have shown a most intelligent appreciation of the possibilities of their position, and in zeal for ecclesiastical development have cer- tainly been surpassed by none of the Protestant bodies about them. And when we contrast their condition at the Revolution, Bhut out from political functio..s in nearly every colony, and celebrating their attenuated rites in a single city, with their present liberty and, splendor, it is not surprising that the more enthusiastic among them have learned to look on this country as a Land of Promise. By none among us has the full sig- nificance of our political experiment been more intelligently grasped than by the members of this communion. For many 1876.] Bdigion in America, 1776 1876. 89 years the Roman Catholic Church held itself aloof from Amer- ican society. Deriving its increase from a foreign element, owing allegiance to a foreign head, caring nothing for the controversies that racked the various Protestant bodies, its presence was felt only in an occasional debate. It urged no exclusive claims. The acquisition of territory from Catholic states added to its importance, but it was the impulse of self- development that first brought it into conflict with American society. To insure that development nothing was more essen- tial than that the church should control the education of its young; and strong at length in consciousness of wealth and numbers, it boldly threw dowii its first gage, in 1840, by de- manding the removal of the Bible from common schools. Had this controversy turned simply on the reading of a few verses of King Jamess version at the opening of the daily exercises, it need have caused no intelligent Protestant embat- rassment. Simple justice would have dictated a concession involving neither disrespect to the Almighty nor peril to the spiritual welfare of the child. But the difficulty lay deeper; the real grievance of the Catholic was, not that too much, but that too little religious instruction was given in the schools; he dreaded an education from which all positive religious influence had been eliminated; he rejected, in other words, the whole theory on which the public-school system had been based. The attitude which he assumed furnishes an interesting illustration of our religious changes, since in asserting so emphatically the indissoluble connection of religion and education he occupied precisely the ground of the Puritans of Massachusetts and Connecticut, who gave the whole system of public education in this country its first great impulse. With them the spelling- hook and catechism always went together. Furthermore, in the remedy which the Catholic proposed, of proportioning the annual amount raised for school purposes among the various religious bodies, he recalled the identical arrangement adopted in Massachusetts to meet a similar dilemma in provid- ing for the support, by law, of public worship. While it is a wholly gratuitous assumption that the Catholics in their persistent warfare against public schools have been actuated by any covert hostility to those political institutions 40 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. which have secured them such unparalleled advantages, espe- cially in view of the fact that the most vehement denouncers of the system of mixed education are among the most enthusi- astic and discriminating advocates of our civil polity, it is nevertheless true that by the Papal Encyclical of 1864, which brands the system of instructing youth which consists in sepa- rating it from the Catholic faith, and from the power of the church, and in teaching exclusively, or at least primarily, the knowledge of natural things, and the earthly ends of society alone, as a thing reprobatam, proscriptam atque damnatarn, the Roman Catholic Church in the United States is irrevocably com- mitted to conflict with a part of our public system which, by the great majority of our people, is regarded as absolutely essen- tial to the perpetuity of our free institutions. This question has been looked at so exclusively from a partisan standpoint, and has been so overwhelmingly decided by popular opinion, that its ulterior bearings have hardly received enough atten- tion. But a cursory glance will show that the problem of the relation of religious and political society is less simple than our politicians half a century ago supposed. If the popular opinion be well grounded, that the temporal and spiritual authorities occupy two wholly distinct provinces, and that to one of these civil government should be exclusively shut up, a position in which the disciple of Mr. Jefferson and the liberal Catholic who seeks to reconcile the doctrines of his church with modern liberty are perfectly at one, it would be difficult to make out a logical defence of our present system of public education. If, on the contrary, it be the right and duty~ of the state to enforce the support of public education from a class of the population conscientiously debarred from sharing its advantages, then our current theory respecting the nature and functions of the state stands in need of considerable revision. The theory of the absolute separation of church and state has given rise to another question. The rapid accumulation of ecclesiastical wealth is a fact that could not fail to arrest attention. By the immemorial traditions of all Christian countries, such property has been exempted from taxation. When the Church was a public institution, and when the 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 41 benefit of its ministrations was freely open to rich and poor alike, a sufficient reason existed for such exemption. But, it is argued, the effect of our voluntary system has been to ren- der the modern Protestant church little more than a religious club, where Christians in easy circumstances, by paying an annual assessment, may listen once a week to reasonably good music, and to such preaching as it pleases the Lord to send. The portion of the population debarred by pecuniary inability from enjoying this soothing Sunday relaxation is not incon- siderable; a still larger number decline to attend for other reasons. The enormous increase of our public burdens, direct- ing as it has increased attention to the principles on which equitable taxation should be adjusted, has raised the question whether those who derive no benefit from public worship should be indirectly taxed for its support. That exemption is such indirect support, and that so far it tends to throw an ad- ditional burden upon other property, there needs no argument to show. It only differs from direct support in furnishing the most liberal assistance to those who need it least. And con- ceding the general benefits that accrue to society from the positive institutions of religion, the question still remains, Why should a purely political organism~ give even an indi- rect support to religious worship? The manner in which this subject has been handled affords striking evidence of the confused and unsettled state of public opinion with reference to the relations of the spiritual and temporal power. Mr. Brownson claims that neither in politics nor in religion is it the destiny of the United States to realize any theory whatever. What the future may have in store for us it would be beyond the scope of this paper to predict, but a review of our past history should incline us to place a modest estimate on our success. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth. He certainly would be a very bold or a very thoughtless man, who would venture to affirm that the ideal of catholic unity has been reached in our system of strenuously competing sects, or that the problem of church and state has received a final solution in remitting public worship to voluntary sup- 42 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. port. At the close of a century we seem to have made no advance whatever in harmonizing the relations of religious sects among themselves, or in defining their common relation to the civil power. The Evangelical Alliance was an interest- ing expression of individual sentiment; but in proclaiming so energetically that the differences of religious sects were non- essential, it cut away the limb on which its whole fabric rested. There are phases of religious culture not touched in the foregoing survey which also furnish marked and significant tests of religious progress. A century ago the religious cul- ture of this country was theological. The intellectual strain was in one direction, to solve the solemn problems arising from mans relations to his Maker. Every thoughtful mind was haunted with a sense of the divine order of the world; for however weakened the social sway of Puritanism, it had hardly relaxed its tremendous grasp upon the spiritual nature. The system of doctrine almost universally accepted enforced de- liberate conclusions respecting mysteries into which angels might shrink from looking. To these problems the acute and venturesome New England intellect was stimulated by the pre- vailing methods of intellectual discipline. At Yale College, a century ago, logic held the highest place; and from the school where Burgerdicius, Ramus, Crakenthorp, and Keckerman were the great lights came the leaders in the most distinctively original and vigorous school of American religious thought. Of this school Samuel Hopkins was the foremost representative. A typical New England thinker, a sincere and noble character, he deserves the veneration that is never withheld from mascu- line independence and transparent honesty. The elder New England divines were disciples of the Reformation, not of the Renaissance; they were more concerned for accuracy of statement than for polished diction. The qualities which have caused the Ecclesiastical Polity and the Provincial Letters to outlive all controversy, their writings did not share. As a consequence these writings have hardly more influence to- day on the cultivated intellect of New England than the writ- ings of the schoolmen. Their very phrases have lost all meaning to the men of this generation. This makes it less 1876.] Religion in America, 1776 1876. 43 difficult to do justice to their real merit. While the wider cul- ture in our time condemns their intellectual range as narrow, and their philosophical method as defective, yet we can never mention but with respect a school of thinkers who so seriously grasped the great problems of existence, and who, withal, dealt so honestly with themselves in the solutions which they attempted; who may have erred in not accurately measuring the limits of human thought, but who neither ignored difficul- ties nor paltered with terms ; who had no sophistry in their mouths, and no masks on their faces. Whether it be understood as a eulogium or a reproach, it is nevertheless a fact that the original impulses of religious thought in this country have proceeded almost wholly from New England. And throughout all our history no more genu- ine intellectual force has been expended than was devoted to theological discussion by the school that began with Hopkins and closed with Taylor. Yet these acute and powerful think- ers have had but little influence on other religious bodi& s. With most of them they have never come in contact, and where, as in one memorable instance, they seemed to effect a lodge- ment, it was only at last to be rejected and disowned. Nor even in New England have they retained their sway. They were profoundly metaphysical; recent theology has become historical and critical. It has gained in breadth, but lost in intellectual force; it is more learned, but less original. A striking illustration of the degree to which the theological intellect of New England has lost its relish for metaphysical inquiries is furnished in the fact that the most acute vindication of the freedom of the mind in willing, which our generation has produced, is the work, not of a divine, but of one who snatched from an engrossing business career the opportunities of literary labor. The second great phase of our religious culture was ethical, and it need hardly be added that its representative was Chan- fling. In terming the first epoch metaphysical it should not be forgotten that Hopkins denounced slavery when slaves were still landed on the wharves of Newport; and in terming the second ethical, we would by no means depreciate the eminent intellectual qualities of some of its early leaders. But it is 44 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. not less true that when the movement, which is so imperfectly described by the theological term commonly employed to des- ignate it, passed from its negative to its positive stage, its note was ethical. Tlj~ .inspiration of Channing lay in his noble enthusiasm of humanity. As a scientific theologian he cut no deep lines on our religious thought; but as an apostle of that benignant Gospel which seeks in the welfare of man the highest glory of God, he must be reckoned a star of the first magnitude in our spiritual firmament. His true and abiding influence overruns the boundaries of sects. He was the foremost and most eloquent propagator of that humanitarian sentiment which pervades so widely our modern life. The force of this sentiment has been by no means expended in specific philan- thropies and moral reforms. While it has made itself felt most decisively in these directions, it has also silently reacted in quarters where its influence has been least suspected. The tone of every Christian communion has been affected by it. It has widened the range of religious effort, modified the empha- sis of preaching, and even tinged perceptibly the impulses of missionary zeal. The unmistakable change that has come over American Christianity in the disposition to assign so much greater relative importance to practical well-doing, and to recognize the relations of the Gospel to the present life, is due, in very large measure, to this more open vision of the godlike in the human. The wider diffusion of this humane philosophy has been promoted by an exceptional literary excel- lence. The qualities in which the theological culture of the former epoch was so conspicuously deficient became the dis- tinctive characteristic of the second phase. Still, its success has been more evident in the discussion of social questions than in solving problems of the soul. The most recent phase of our religious culture, and one that can hardly yet be studied in its full development, is the ten- dency, so marked at the present time among all religious bodies, which assigns to sentiment a more prominent function in re- ligion. In its most general aspect, this is part of that great reaction against a logical apprehension of Christianity which we have before considered, and is the result of social develop- ment and of a more diversified civilization. It may be termed 1876.] Religion in America, 1776~-l8T6. 45 the ~sthetic phase, although it should be remembered that this tendency even in its most pronounced forms seldom usurps exclusive control, being found not unfrequently allied with an efficient recognition of practical religious duties. This ~stheti- cal revival is, without doubt, the characteristic feature of our religious culture at the present day. Were ft no more than an a3sthetical revival it would scarcely deserve notice in a review of religious progress; but in its most extreme manifestations it has an avowed connection with doctrine; and where no such connection consciously exists, the tendency can hardly be dis- sociated from subtle modifications of religious thought. The illustrations of this present phase of our religious culture a~re too familiar to need more than the most passing mention. They are seen in the general disposition to affect a more elab- orate religious ceremonial, and in the extraordinary impulse given to ecclesiastical architecture. That these results should be witnessed in religious communions which have always rec- ognized symbolism and ceremonial as legitimate instruments of religious culture is not surprising, for, even if carried at times to an extreme, the development is logical. It works out a principle which has never been denied. Yet even in these communions the transformation is very marked. Things un- dreamed of even in Hobarts time have long ceased to attract attention. The first stained windows were brought to this country in 1827, and in the same year we find Doane urging the restoration of the cross to churches. Not till twelve years later did this leader in ecclesiological reform venture to suggest the propriety of removing the holy table back, and setting it up a step or two upon a platform. At that day a surpliced choir would have excited consternation. But the most conclu- sive evidence of the wide diffusion of this ~sthetic impulse is furnished in those religious bodies with all whose traditions it is at war. The tendency pervades all sects, and mediawal architecture is no longer, as it once was, a matter of principle, but simply a question of expense. The Baptist and the Meth- odist have learned to covet the dim religious light and the pealing organ; and the children of those whose early history was a stern protest against the perilous alliance of faith with any sensuous forms, and who refused, in their plain meeting.. 46 Religion in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. houses, to tolerate so much as the stated reading of the sacred volume lest a spiritual worship should degenerate into a formal service, have come to listen with composure, under vaulted roofs Of plaster, painted like an Indian squaw, to such artistic renderings of Holy Writ as awaken a be- wildered doubt whether Hebrew or Greek or Latin be the tongue employed. Whatever the defects of religious teaching a century ago, it was certainly a vigorous intellectual dis& i- pline. It is not easy to believe that the substitution of such different methods is a sign simply of a more cultivated taste. From the foregoing review it has been made sufficiently am parent that the function of American Christianity has been discharged in a moral and practical rather than in a scientific and theological development. The scope of this article does not permit a survey of our copious religious literature, but such a survey would undoubtedly establish the same conclusion. The impulse of original religious thought was almost wholly limited to a single school. As speculative has been succeeded by biblical and historical theology, we have drawn our best supplies from a roreign source. Each of our larger denomina- tions is amply furnished with its representative literature, but no supreme mind has appeared whom all acknowledge as mas- ter. It may be doubted whether denominational training is con- ducive to such a result. Our most successful efforts have lain in the more popular discussion of religious truth, a direction in which our literature has been enriched with more than one admirable monograph. At the close of the first century of its independent existence, Christianity in this country, with an un- deniable external growth and a prodigious external activity, finds itself confronted with great and perplexing problems. Some of tl~ese, as the question how under our voluntary system the Gospel shall be preached to the poor, are incidental to the peculiar conditions of our American religious life; while others, as the issue between Christianity and science, are connected with the general movement of moderii civilization. There are not wanting many indications of a disposition on the part of those who hold earnestly to Christianity as a great historical fact to look these questions fairly in the face; but whether, in 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 47 attempting to solve them, we shall simply repeat the experi- ments of the Old World, or, rising to nobler modes, shall illus- trate some deeper adaptation of the Gospel to human society and to human thought, it remains for the coming century to show. J. L. DIMAN. ART. II. POLITICS IN AMERICA, 1776 1876. WHEN the Continental Congress met in 1774, few persons in the Colonies perceived that the ties to the mother country were about to be severed, and few, if any, were republicans in theory, or contemplated a revolution in the political system. The desire for independence was developed during 1775, and the question as to the form of government to be adopted came up by consequence. It presented no real difficulty. The political organization of some of the Colonies was such already that there were no signs of dependence except the arms and flag, the form of writs, and a responsibility to the Lords of Trade which sat very lightly upon them. Necessary changes being made in these respects, those Colonies stood as complete re- publics. The others conformed to this model. In bringing about these changes great interest was developed in political speculations, an interest which found its first direction from Paines Common Sense, and was sustained by diligent reading of Burghs Political . Di squisitions, and Mrs. Ma- caulays History of England. The same speculations con- tinued to be favorite subjects of discussion for twenty-five years afterwards. The journals of the time were largely made up of long essays by writers with fanciful noms de plume, who dis- cussed no simple matters dI~ detail, but the fundamental princi- ples of politics and government. The method of treatment was not historical, unless we must except crude and erroneous generalizations on classical history, and it seemed to be believed that the colonial history of this country was especially unfit to. furnish guidance for the subsequent period; but the disquisitions in question pursued an apriori method, starting from the broadest and most abstract assumptions. The same method

1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 47 attempting to solve them, we shall simply repeat the experi- ments of the Old World, or, rising to nobler modes, shall illus- trate some deeper adaptation of the Gospel to human society and to human thought, it remains for the coming century to show. J. L. DIMAN. ART. II. POLITICS IN AMERICA, 1776 1876. WHEN the Continental Congress met in 1774, few persons in the Colonies perceived that the ties to the mother country were about to be severed, and few, if any, were republicans in theory, or contemplated a revolution in the political system. The desire for independence was developed during 1775, and the question as to the form of government to be adopted came up by consequence. It presented no real difficulty. The political organization of some of the Colonies was such already that there were no signs of dependence except the arms and flag, the form of writs, and a responsibility to the Lords of Trade which sat very lightly upon them. Necessary changes being made in these respects, those Colonies stood as complete re- publics. The others conformed to this model. In bringing about these changes great interest was developed in political speculations, an interest which found its first direction from Paines Common Sense, and was sustained by diligent reading of Burghs Political . Di squisitions, and Mrs. Ma- caulays History of England. The same speculations con- tinued to be favorite subjects of discussion for twenty-five years afterwards. The journals of the time were largely made up of long essays by writers with fanciful noms de plume, who dis- cussed no simple matters dI~ detail, but the fundamental princi- ples of politics and government. The method of treatment was not historical, unless we must except crude and erroneous generalizations on classical history, and it seemed to be believed that the colonial history of this country was especially unfit to. furnish guidance for the subsequent period; but the disquisitions in question pursued an apriori method, starting from the broadest and most abstract assumptions. The same method 48 Politics in America, 1T761876. [Jan. has marked American political philosophy, so far as there has been any such thing, ever since. It is very much easier than the method which requires a laborious study of history. The natural effect of the war, but still more of the doctrines in regard to liberty taught by Paine, and of the deplorable policy of local terrorism pursued by the Committees of Safety against Tories and Refugees, was to produce and bring into prominence a class of active shallow men, who felt their new powers and priv- ileges, but not the responsibility which ought to go with these. The old colonial bureaucracy, which had enjoyed all the social pre-eminence which colonial life permitted, was gone. Office was open to many who, before the war, had little chance of at- taining it. They sought it eagerly, expecting to enjoy the social advantages they had formerly envied. In the Northern States a class of eager office-seekers arose who gained a great influence, saw their arena in the States especially, and jealously opposed the power of the Confederation. This class made hatred to England almost a religion, and testified to their political virtues by persecuting Tories and Refugees. They found popular grievances also ready to their hand as a means of advancement. The mass of the people had been impoverished by the war. The attempts at commercial war had reacted upon the nation with great severity. The paper issues of the Congress and the States had wrough.t their work to derange values; violate con- tracts, innate credit, and destroy confidence. On the return of peace the industries which had been sustained only by war ceased to be profitable, the reduction of prices spread general ruin, and left thousands indebted and impoverished. The consequence was discontent and disorder. All this was height- ened by the contrast with another class which had been enriched by privateering, contracts, an d financierino The soldier who returned in rags, bringing only a few bits of scrip worth fifteen or twenty cents on the dollar, found his family in want, and some of his neighbors, who had borne few of the sacrifices of the war, enriched by it, and now enjoying its fruits. It seemed to this whole class that they had not yet got liberty, ~or that they did not know what it was. They did not look for it to a closer union. This party, for it soon became a party, found an alliance in 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 49 a quarter where it would hardly have been expected, in the slave-owning planters of the South, an alliance which has been of immense importance in our political history. The planters, at the outbreak of the war, had been heavily indebted to English capitalists and merchants. They now feared that they would be compelled to pay their debts, and they saw in the treaty-making power of the general government the source from which this compulsion would come. They therefore op- posed any union which would strengthen and give vigor to that power. To this party were added those who had adopted, on theoretical and philosophical grounds, the enthusiasm for lib- erty which was then prevalent in both hemispheres. It shou]A be added to the characteristics of this party that it looked with indifference upon foreign commerce, cared little for foreign opinion, would have been glad to be isolated from the Old World, and had very crude opinions as to the status and rela- tions of European nations. This party naturally went on to confound liberty with equal- ity, and to confound political virtue with tenacity of rights. It furthermore confounded power with privilege, and thought that it must allow no civil power or authority to exist, if it meant really to exterminate aristocratic privilege. It was not so clear in its conception of political duties, and certainly failed to see that the best citizen is not the one who is most tenacious of his political rights, but the one who is most faith- ful to his political duties; that envy and jealousy are not political virtues; and that equality can only be attained by cut- ting off every social advance, and making the standard, not what is highest, but what is a low average. An opposing party gradually formed itself of men of wider information and superior training. These men understood the institutions of Great Britain and their contrast to those of any other country in Europe. They understood just what the war had done for the Colonies. They did not consider that it had altered the internal institutions inherited from the mother country, or set the Colonies adrift upon a sea of political specu- lation to try to find a political Utopia. Some of them joined for a time in the prevalent opinion that the Americans were better and purer than the rest of mankind, but experience scion VOL. Cxxu.NO. 250., 4 50 Politics in America, 1776 1876. Pan. taught them their error. Tradition and experience still had weight with them; and, in making innovations, they sought development rather than destruction and reconstruction. They were conservative by property, education, and character. To this party it was evident that the Colonies had lost much by falling out of the place in the family of nations which they had filled as part of the British Empire, and they believed that a similar place must now be won on an independent footing. They understood the necessity of well-regulated foreign rela- tions, of foreign commerce, and of public credit. Their gen- eral effort was, therefore, to secure order and peace in the internal relations of the country by establishing liberty indeed, but liberty under law, and to secure respectability and respect abroad by fidelity to treaties and pecuniary engagements, by a reputation for commercial integrity, and by a development of the arts of peace. The first requisite to all this was a more perfect union. The two parties, therefore, formed about the issue of a re- vision of the Articles of Confederation, but it was not until the absolute necessity of the objects aimed at by the Federalists objects which are in their nature less directly obvious and tangible had been demonstrated by experience, that this revision was brought about. The Union was not the result of a free and spontaneous effort, but it was extorted from the grinding necessity of a reluctant people. A political party which resists a proposed movement by predicting calam- itous results to flow from, it must abide by the verdict of his.. tory. Tried by this test, the anti-Federalists are convicted of / resisting the most salutary action in oui political history. The victory was won, not by writing critical essays about the movement and the relations of parties, but by the direct and energetic activity of those men of that generation who had enjoyed the greatest advantages of educ~tion and culture. Three evils were inherited under the new Constitution from the old system: slavery (which the framers of the Con- stitution tolerated, thinking it on the decline), paper-money (which they thought they had eradicated), and the mercantile theories of political economy. These three evils, in their ningle or combined development, have given character to the 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 51 whole subsequent political history of the country. One of them has been eliminated by a civil war. The other two con- front us as the great political issues of to-day. The framers of the Constitution, without having any precise definition of a republic in mind, knew well that it differed from a democracy. No one of them was a democrat. They were, at the time of framing the Constitution, under an especial dread of democracy, on account of the rebellion in Massachu- setts. They meant to make a Constitution in order to estab- lish organized or articulated liberty, giving guaranties for it which should protect it from popular tyranny as much as from personal despotism. Indeed, they recognized the former as a great danger, the latter as a delusion. They therefore estab- lislied a constitutional republic. The essential feature of such a system of government (for it is a system of government, and not a political theory) is that political power be conferred under a temporary and defeasible tenure. That it be conferred by popular election is not essential, although it is convenient in many cases. This method was the one naturally indicated by the circumstances of the United States. The system which was established did not pretend to give direct effect to public opinion according to its fluctuations. It rather interposed de- lays and checks in order to secure deliberation, and it aimed to give expression to public opinion only after it was matured. It sought to eliminate prejudice and passion by prescribing be- forehand methods which seemed just in themselves, indepen- dently of conflicting interests, in order that, when a case arose, no advantage of procedure might be offered to either -party; and it aimed to subject action to organs whose operation should be as impersonal as it is possible for the operation of political organs to be. Democracy, on the other hand, has for its essential feature equality, and it confers power on a numerical majority of equal political units. It is not a system of government for a state with any but the narrowest limits. On a wider field it is a theory as to the depositary of sovereignty. It seizes upon ma- jority rule, which is only a practical expedient for getting a decision where something must be done, and a unanimous judg- ment as to what ought to be done is impossible, and it makes 52 Politics in America, 177618T6. [Jan. this majority the depositary of sovereignty, under the name of the sovereignty of the people. This sovereign, however, is as likely as any despot to aggrandize itself, and to promulgate the unformulated doctrines of the divine right of the sovereign majority to rule, the jzluty of passive obedience in the minor- ity, and that the majority can do no wrong. Opposition to the Federal Constitution died out in a year or two, and no one could be found who would confess that he had resisted its adoption. Parties divided on questions of detail and of interpretation, and the points on which they differed were those by which the Constitution imposed delays and re- straints upon the popular will. The administrations of Wash- ington and Adams threw continually increasing weight in favor of constitutional guaranties, as the history of the French Revolution seemed to the Federalists to furnish more and more conviiicing proofs of the dangers of unbridled democracy; The opposition saw nothing in that history save the extravagant ebullitions of a people new to freedom, and saw rather exam- ples to be imitated than dangers to be shunned. Sympathy and gratitude came in to exercise a weighty influence on political issues. The personal executive and tfre judiciary were the chief subjects of dislike, and General Washington himself finally incurred abuse more wanton and severe than any Pre~ident since has endured, except the elder Adams, because the fact was recognized that Washingtons personality was the strongest bulwark which the system possessed at the outset. Democracy, however, was, and still is, so deeply rooted in the physical and economic circumstances of the United States, that the constitutional barriers set up against it have proved feeble and vain. Fears of monarchy have now almost ceased or are ridiculed. Monarchist and aristocrat are now used only as epithets to put down some over-bold critic of our po- litical system; but in the early days of the Republi~ the mass of the people believed that the supporters of the first two ad- ministrations desired aristocracy and monarchy. In a new country, however, with unlimited land, the substantial equality of the peopid in property, culture, and social position is inevita- ble. Political equality follows naturally. Democracy is given in the circumstances of the case. The yeoman farmer is the 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. prevailing type of the population. It is oniy when the press ure of population, and the development of a more complex. social organization, produces actual inequality in the circum- stances of individuals, that a political aristocracy can follow and grow upon a social aristocracy. The United States are far from having reached any such state as yet. These facts were felt, if not distinctly analyzed and perceived, even by those who might on theory have preferred monarchical institu- tions; and, as Washington said, there were not ten men in the country who wanted a monarchy. The Federalists repaid their opponents with a no less exag- gerated fear of their principles and intentions, regarding them as Jacobins and sans culottes, who desired to destroy whatever was good, and to produce bloodshed and anarchy. Party spirit ran to heights seldom reached since. Partisan abuse out-. stripped anything since. It was an additional misfortune that the questions at issue were delicate questions of foreign policy and international law. It is a great evil in a republic that parties should divide by sympathy with two foreign nations, and it is the greatest evil possible that they should not believe in each others loyalty to the existing constitution. The deeper movement which was stirring to affect the gen- eral attitude or standpoint in which the Constitution was viewed (a matter, of course, of the first importance under a written constitution), and which was changing the constitutional re- pullic into a democratic republic, did not escape the observa- tion of the most sagacious men of the earliest days. Fisher Ames wrote to Wolcott in 18Q0: The fact really is, that over and above the difficulties of sustaining a free government, and the freer the more difficult, there is a want of accordance be- tween our system and the state of our public opinion. The government is republican; opinion is essentially democratic. Either events will raise public opinion high enough to support our government, or public opinion will pull down the govern- ment to its own level. The fact was, that the government could not, under the system, long remain above the level of public opinion. The Federalists, assisted by the prestige of Washingtons name, held it there for twelve years; but they never probably, on any of the party issues, had a majority of 54 Politics in America, 17761876. [Jan. the voters, even with a restricted suffrage. Dating the rise of parties from the time of Jays Treaty, they had a majority of the House of Representatives only under the excitement of French insult in 1798. The leading men of 1781 88, as has been said, worked industriously and energetically for political objects. The first decade of the Republic had not passed by, however, before men began to estimate the cost and sacrificea of public life and the worry of abuse and misrepresentation, to compare this with what they could accomplish in politics, and to abandon the contest. To the best public men professions and other careers offered fame, fortune, honorable and gratifying success. In public life they struggled against, and were defeated by, noisy active men, who could not have competed with them in any other profession. Their best efforts were misunderstood and misrepresented. They had no reward but the conscious- ness of fulfilling a high public duty. Furthermore they lacked, as a class, the tact and sagacity which the system indispensa- bly requires. The leaders of the Federal party committed a political blunder of the first magnitude in quarrelling with John Adams, whatever may have been his faults. They thereby separated themselves from the mass of their own party, ~t a time when parties were so evenly balanced that they required harmony for any chance of success; and they put themselves in the position of a junto or cabal, trying to dictate to the party without guiding its reason. Those of them i~rho had withdrawn from, or been thrown out of, political life by the causes above mentioned were most active in this work of disorganization. They had abandoned that sort of work which they had engaged in at the outset, and which, difficult as it is,. is permanently incumbent on the cultured classes of the coun- try, to make the culture of the nation homogeneous and uni- form by imparting and receiving, by living in and of and for the nation, contributing to its thought and life their best stores, whatever they are. A breach was opened there which has gone on widening ever since, and whfch has been as harmful to our culture a~ to our politics. On the one side it has been left to anti-culture to control all which is indigenous and American; and on the other hand American culture has 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 18T6. 55 been like a plant in a thin soil, given over to a sickly dilettante- ism and the slavish imitation of foreign models, ill under- stood, copied for matters of form, and, as often as not, imitated for their worst defects. An actual withdrawal of the ablest men from political life, such as we have come to deplore, began, then, at this early day. Many others were thrown out for too great honesty and truth in running counter to the popular notions of the day. John Adams incurred great unpopularity for having said that the English Constitution was one of the grandest achievements of the human race, an assertion which Callender disputed, with great popular success, by dilating upon the corruption of the English administration under George III., but an assertion which no well-informed man would question, in the sense in which it was made. Sedgwick laid down the principle that the government might claim the last man as a soldier, and the last dollar in taxation, an abstract proposition which is unques- tionable, but which Callender disputed, once more with great popular success, by arguing as if it were a proposition to take the last man and the last dollar. Dexter lost a re-election by opposing a clause of the naturalization law, that a foreign noble- man should renounce his titles on being naturalized. It was opposed as idle and frivolous, and favored as if every foreign nobleman would otherwise become by naturalization a member of Congress. Hamilton and Knox abandoned the public ser- vice on account of the meagrene~s of their salaries. Pickering, who left office really insolvent, and with only a few hundred dollars in cash, was pursued by charges of corruption on the ground of unclosed accounts. Wolcott, at the end of long and faithful service, was charged with the responsibility for a fire which broke out in his office, as if he had sought to destroy the records of corrupt proceedings. It is no wonder that these men abandor~ed public life, and that their example deterred others, unless they were men born to it, who could not live out of the public arena; but it is true now, as it was then, that men of true culture, high character, and correct training can abandon public political effort only by the surrender of some of the best interests of themselves and their posterity. The pursuit of wealth, which is the natural alternative, has always ab 66 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. sorbed far too much of the ambition of the nation, and, under such circumstances, there could be no other result than that a wealthy class should arise, to whom wealth offers no honorable social power, in whom it awakens no intellectual or political ambition, to whom it brings no sense of responsibility, but for whom it means simply the ability to buy what they want, men or measures, and to enjoy sensual luxury. A class of men is produced which mocks at the accepted notions while it uses them, and scorns the rest of us with a scorn which is so in- sulting only because it is so just. It is based on the fact that we will not undergo the sacrifices necessary to self-defence. This pursuit of wealth wa~ almost the only attractive pursuit to able men who turned their backs on the public service in the early days. In later years professional careers and scien- tific and literary pursuits have disputed to a great and greater .extent the dominion of wealth over the energies of the nation; but politics have not yet won back their due attraction for able and ambitious men. The Federalists also held a defective political philosophy. They did not see that the strength of a constitutional republin such as they desired must bd in the intelligent approval and confidence of the citizens. Adams and Hamilton agreed in supposing that some artificial bond must be constructed to give strength to the system. Hamilton looked for it in the interest of the wealthy class, which 1~ie wanted to bind up in the system, a theory which would have changed it into a plutocracy. Adams sought the bond in ambition for social eminence, and did not see that, where such eminence sprang only from wealth or official rank, the very principle of human nature which he invoked would, under the form of envy, counteract his effort. The Presidential election of 1801 having been thrown into the House of Representatives, the Federalists added to their former blunder another far more grave. 4bandoniiig their claims to principle and character, they took to political intrigue and bargaining, in the attempt to elect Burr over Jefferson. Their exit from power might otherwise have been honorable, and they might, as an opposition party, have made a stand for inflexible principle and political integrity; but it was hard for them after this to talk of those things, especially as Burr went 1876.] Politic8 in America, 1776 1876. 5T on to develop the character which Hamilton had warned them that he possessed. They fell into the position of indepen- dent voters, throwing their aid now with one and now with the other faction of the majority; but history does not show that they ever forced either one or the other to adopt good measures, for the obvious reason that the majority possessed the initiative. The purchase of Louisiana seemed to them to transfer the power of the Union to the Southern and frontier States, the seat of the political theories which they regarded as reckless and lawless. They feared that the power of the Union would be used to sacrifice commerce, and to put in opera- tion wild theories by which the interests of the Northern and Eastern States would be imperilled, and the inherited institu- tions of constitutional liberty, which they valued as their best possessions, would be overthrown. The Embargo and Non-inter- course Acts seemed only the fulfilment of these fears. The recourse of a minority has always been to invoke the Constitu- tion, and to insist upon the unconstitutionality of what they could not resist by votes, each party in turn thereby bear- ing witness to the truth that the Constitution is the real safe- guard of rights and liberty. In the last resort also the mi- nority, if it has been local, and has seen the majority threat- ening to use the tremendous power of the Confederation to make the interests of the minority subservient to the interests of the rest, has felt its loyalty to the Union decline. How far the Federalists went in this direction it is difficult to say, but they certainly went further than they were afterwards willing to remember or confess. They gradually faddd out of view as a political power after the second war, and, in the 20s, Federalist became a term of reproach. The opposite party, called Republicans by themselves after 1792, took definit6 form in opposition to Washingtons admin- istration on the question of ratifying Jays Treaty. They were first called Democrats in 1798, the nanie being opprobrious. They adopted it, however, first in connection with the former name; and the joint appellation, Democratic Republicans, or either separately, was used indifferently down to the middle of this century. Jefferson was the leader of this party. He did not write any political disquisitions, or aid in the attempts 58 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. which have been mentioned to form public opinion; but his ex- pressions in letters and fugitive writings struck in with the tide of Democracy so aptly and exactly, that he seemed to have put into peoples mouths just the expression for the vague notions which they had not yet themselves been able to put into words. Jefferson, in fact, was no thinker. He was a good specimen of the apriori political philosopher. He did not reason or deduce; he dogmatized on the widest and most rash assumptions, which were laid down as self-evident truths. He did not borrow from the contemporaneous French schools, for his democracy is of a different type; but both sprung from the same germs, and pur- sued the same methods of speculation. Freneau, Bache, Cal- lender, and Duane wrought continually upon public opinion, and Jefferson entered into the leadership of the party they created, by virtue of a certain skill in giving watchwords and dogmatic expressions for the ideas which they disseminated. The dogmas which Jefferson taught, or of which lie was the exponent, were not without truth. Their fallacy consisted in embracing much falsehood, and also in excluding the vast amount of truth which lay outside of them. For instance, the dogma that the voice of the people is the voice of God, is not without truth, if it means that the enlightened and mature judgment of mankind is the highest verdict on earth as to what is true or wise. This is the truth which is sought to be expressed in the ecclesiastical dogma of Catholicity, but the political and the ecclesiastical dogma have the same limitation. This verdict of mankind cannot be obtained in any formal and concrete expression, and is absolutely unattainable on grounds of speculation antecedent to experiment. It is in history only, or, rather, it constitutes history. In Jeffersons doctrine and practice it resolved itself simply into this practical rule: the test of wisdom for the statesman and truth for the philoso- pher is popularity. When the statesman has a difficult practi- cal question before him as to what to do, according to this theory he puts forward ~yhat seems to him best as a propo- sition. If, then, the return wave of popular sympathy comes back to him with promptitude and with the intensity to which he is accustomed, he infers that he has proposed wisely, and goes forward. If there is delay or uncertainty in the response, 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 59 he draws back. The actual operation of this theory is, that, if the statesman in question is the idol of a popular majority, the approving response is quick and sure, because the propo- sition comes from him, not because the tribunal of appeal has considered, or can consider, the question. If an unpopular man endeavors to use the same test, the answer is doubtful, feeble, hesitating, or impatient, because those to whom he appeals have not the necessary preparation, or time, or inter- est to judge in the matter. In general, the theory is popular, because it flatters men that they can decide anything offhand, by the light of nature, or by some prompt application of as- sumptions as to natural rights, or by applying the test of a popular dogma or prejudice. It tramples study and thought and culture under foot, and turns their boasts to scorn. On the other hand, it makes statesmanship impossible. Study and thought go for nothing. There can be no authority derived from information or science or training, and no lead- ership won by virtue of these. If the decision is to come from a popular vote, why not abandon useless trouble and trust to that alone? Such has been the outcome in history, as will appear further on, of the doctrines which are associated with the name of Jefferson, although they really had their origin in the great social tendencies of the time, and in the circumstances of the American people. The love of philosophizing about govern- ment was a feature in the life of the second half of the eighteenth century. The method of philosophizing on as- sumptions was the only one employed. The Americans, with meagre experience and high purposes, readily took refuge in abstractions. The habit of pursuing two or three occupations at once destroyed respect for special or technical knowledge. There seemed to be nothing unreasonable in referring ques- tions of jurisprudence and international law to merchants, farmers, and mechanics, for them to give an opinion as a mere incident in their regular occupations. Jefferson himself could sit down and develop out of his own consciousness a plan for fortifications and a navy for a nation, in imminent danger of war, with no more misgivings, apparently, than if he was plan~ fling an alteration on his estate. 60 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. The further democracy was pushed, first in theory, then in practice, the more completely was the belief in the equality of all [in rights and privileges] converted, in the minds of the masses, into the belief in the equal ability of all to decide political questions of every kind. The principle of mere num- bers gradually supplanted the principle of reflection and study. This tendency reaches its climax in the popular doctrines, that every man has a right to his opinion, and that one mans opinion is as good as anothers. We have abundant illustra- tion of the might which it gives to the phrase. It has been well said that men can reason only from what they know, a doctrine which would reduce the amount of reasoning to be done by anybody to ~ very little. The com- mon practice is to reason from what we do not know, which makes every man a philosopher. Jeffersons election was the first triumph of the tendency towards democracy, a triumph which has never yet been re- versed. The old conservatism of the former administrations died out, and it is important to observe that, from this time on, we have not the same two parties in conflict as before, but only factions or subdivisions of the one party which, under Wash- ington and Adams, was in opposition to the administration. The event did not justify the fears which were entertained before the election. Jefferson did not surrender any of the power of the executive. He aggrandized it as neither of his predecessors would have dared to do. He did not surrender the central power in favor of States rights; and his foreign policy, governed by sympathy to France and hatred to Eng- land, was only too sharp and spirited. It seldom happens to an opposition party to come into power, to have the same question proposed to it as to its predecessor, and to put its own policy to trial. This happened to Jefferson. Jays Treaty was hesitatingly signed by Washington, and it gave the coun- try ten years of peace and neutrality. Pinkney and Munroes Treaty was rejected by Jefferson, and in six years the country was engaged in a fruitless war. Madisons administration revived many of the social usages which Jefferson had ostentatiously set aside, in consistency with the general spirit of preference for what is common over what 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 61 is elegant and refined, on the ground of republican simplicity. The natural tendency of the party in power to think that what is is right, and that while they are comfortable other people ought to be so, was apparent here. It went on so far during Madisons first term, that the leaders thought it necessary to break the monotony, and to secure again, in some. way, the readiness and activity of political life which had prevailed under Jefferson. They forced Madison into the war with England, a war which brought disturbance into the finances, and spread distress amongst the people, which won some glory at sea only by vindicating the old Federalist policy in regard to a navy, but which was marked by disaster on land until the battle of New Orleans. At the return of peace in Europe, England was left free to deal with the United States, and a peace was hastily made iTh which the question of impressment, the only question at issue, was left just where it had been at the beginning. There ensued in our internal politics an era of good feel- ing. The old parties no longer had any reason to exist. Some of the Federal doctrines had been adopted. The navy was secure in its popularity. The Federal financial system had been adopted by the party in power. They had con- tracted a debt, laid direct taxes, and enlisted armies. When confronted by problems of war and debt, they had found no better way to deal with them than the ways which had been elaborated by the older nations, and which they had blamed the Federalists for adopting. The questions of neutrality had disappeared with the return of peace in Europe. The fears of Jacobinism on the one hand and monarchy on the other were recognized as ridiculous. If, however, any one is disposed to exaggerate the evils of party, he ought to study the history of the era of good feeling. Political issues were gone, but personal issues took their place. Personal factions sprang up around each of the prominent men who might aspire to the Presidency, and, in their struggles to advance their favorites and destroy their rivals, they introduced into politics a shameful series of calumnies and personal scandals. Every candidate had to defend himself from aspersions, from attacks based upon his official or private life. The newspapers were loaded down with controversies, letters, documents, and evi 62 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. deuce on these charges. The character of much of this matter is such as to awaken disgust and ridicule. Mr. A tells Mr. B that, when in Washington, he was present at a dinner at the house of Mr. C at which Mr. D said that he came on in the stage with Mr. E, who told him that Mr. F had seen a letter from Mr. G, a supposed friend of one candidate, to Mr. H, the friend of another candidate, making charges against the first candidate, which he (Mr. G) felt bound in honor to make known. Mr. B publishes his information, and then follow long letters from all the other gentlemen, with explanations, denials, corroborative testimony, and so on, in endless reitera- tion and confusion. It was another noteworthy feature of this period, that every public man seemed to stand ready to publish a vindication at the slightest provocation, and that in these vindications a confusion between character an4 reputation seemed to be universal. These faction struggles culminated in the campaign of 1824. The first mention of General Jackson for the Presidency seems to be in a letter from Aaron Burr to his son-in-law~ Alston of South Carolina, in 1815. An effort was being made to form a party against the Virginia oligarchy. Those who were engaged in it sought a candidate who might be strong enough to secure success. Burr justified his reputation as a politician by point- ing out the man, but it was yet too soon. The standard of what a Federal officer ought to be was yet too high. The Albany Argus said of the nomination, in 1824: He [Jack- son] is respected as a gallant soldier, but lie stands in the minds of the people of this State at an immeasurable distance from th~i executive chair. The name of Jackson was used, however, in connection with the Presidency, by various local conventions, during 1822 and 1823; and, although the nomina- tion was generally met with indifference or contempt in the North and East, it soon became apparent that he was the most dangerous rival in the field. The nominations had hith- erto been made by caucuses of the members of Congress of either party. Until Jeffersons second nomination, these had been held under a decent veil of secrecy. Since that time they had exerted more and more complete and recognized con- trol. Crawford was marked for the succession, although he 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 63 was under some discipline for having allowed his name to be used in the caucus of 1816 against Munroe. The opposing candidates now discovered that caucus nominations were evil, and joined forces in a movement to put an end to them. This movement gained popular approval on general principles. When the caucus was called, naturally only the friends of Crawford attended, sixty-six out of two hundred and sixteen Republican members. The nomination probably hurt him. It was proudly said that King Caucus was now dethroned, but never was there a greater mistake. He had only just come of a and escaped from tutelage. He was about to enter on his inheritance. General Jackson obtained the greatest number of votes in the Electoral College; and when the election came into the House, a claim was loudly put forward which had been feebly heard in 1801, that the House ought simply to carry out the will of the people, by electing him. This claim distinctly raised the issue which has been described, of democracy against the Con- stitution. Does the Constitution give the election to the House in certaiu~ contingencies, or does it simply charge them with the duty of changing a plurality vote into an election? No one had a majority, but the House was asked really to give to a major vote the authority which, even on the democratic theory, belongs to a majority. The election could not but result in the discontent of three candidates and their adherents, but the Jackson party was by far the most discontented and most clamorous. They pro- ceeded to organize and labor for the next campaign. They were shrewd, active men, who knew well the arena and the science of the game. They offered to Adamss administration a ruthless and relentless opposition. There were no great party issues; indeed, the country was going through a period of profound peace and prosperity which offered little material for history, and little occasion for active political combat. The administration was simple and business-like, and conducted the affairs of the government with that smoothness and quiet suc- cess which belong to the system in times of peace and pros- perity. Mr. Adams was urged to consolidate his party by using the patronage of the executive, and the opinion has been ex~ 64 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. pressed that, if he had done so, he could have won his re-elec- tion. He steadfastly refused to do this. ~The truth was, that a new spirit had come over the country, and that the candidacy of Jackson was the form in which it was seeking admission into the Federal administration. Here we meet with one of the great difficulties in the study of Amer- ican political history. The forces which we~ find in action on the Federal arena have their origin in the political struggles and personal jealousies of local politicians, now in one State and now in another; and the doctrines which are propounded at Washington, and come before us in their maturity, have really grown up in the States. Rotation in office began to be prac- tised in New York and Pennsylvania at the beginning of the century. The Federalists then lost power in those States, and their political history consists of the struggles of factions in the Republican party. Jefferson and Madison taught Democ- racy in Virginia, but it never entered their heads that the low- down whites were really to meddle in the formative stage of politics. They expected that gentlemen planters would meet and agree upon a distribution of offices, and that the masses should have the privilege of electing the men they proposed. The Clintons and Livingstones in New York were Democrats, but they likewise understood that, in practice, they were to distribute offices around their dinner-tables. In the mean time, men like Duane were writing essays for farmers and mechanics, which were read from one end of the Union to the other, in which they were pre~iching hostility to banks and the money power, hostility to the judiciary, and to the introduction of the common law of England, the elec- tion of judicial officers, rotation in office, and all the dogmas which we generally ascribe to a much later origin. These notions even found some practical applications, as in the political impeachment of judges in Pennsylvania in 1804, acts which fortunately did not become precedents. The new constitutions which were adopted from time to time during the first quarter of this century show the slow ~vorking of this le~wen, together with the gradual adoption of improvements far less questionable. After 1810 also began the series of great inventions which have really opened this continent to mankind. The steam- 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 65 boat was priceless to a country which had grand rivers, but scarcely any roads. In 1817 De Witt Clinton persuaded New York to commence the Erie Canal, and before it was finished scores of others were projected or begun. Politically and financially, the system of internal improvements has proved disastrous, but those enterprises helped on the events which we are now pursuing, for they assisted in opening the resources of the continent to the reach of those who had nothing. The great mass of the population found themselves steadily gaining in property and comfort. Their independence and self-reliance expanded. They developed new traits of national character, and intensified some of the old ones. They had full confidence in their own powers, feared no difficulties, made light of experience, were ready to deal off- hand with any problems, laughed at their own mistakes, despised science and study, over-estimated the practical man, and over-esteemed material good. To such a class the doc- trines of democracy seemed axiomatic, and they ascribed to democracy the benefits which accrued to them as the first- comers in a new country. They generally believed that the political system created their prosperity; and they never per- ceived that the very bountifulness of the new country, the sim- plicity of life, and the general looseness of the social organism, allowed their blunders to pass without the evil results which would follow in an older and denser community. The same causes have produced similar results ever since. PQlitical machinery also underwent great development dur- ing the first quarter of the century. In New York there was perhaps the greatest amount of talent and skill employed in this work, and the first engine used was the appointing power. The opposing parties were only personal and family factions, but they rigorously used power when they got it, to absorb honors and places. The conception of office arose, under which it is regarded as a favor conferred on the holder, not a position in which work is to be done for the public service. Hence the office-holder sat down to enjoy, instead of going to work to serve. If some zealous man got into office who took the latter view, he soon found that he could count upon being blamed for all which went amiss, but would get little recognition VOL. cxxii. NO. 250. 5 66 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. or reward while things went well, and the safest policy was to do nothing. The public was the worst paymaster, and the most exacting and unjust employer in the country, and it got the worst service. The consequence is that the early political history of New York Is little more than a story of the combina- tions and quarrels of factions, annual elections, and lists of changes in the office-holders. The Clintons and Livingstones united against Burr, who was the centre of an eager and active and ambitious coterie of young men, who already threatened to apply democratic doctrines with a consistency for which the aristocratic families were not prepared. Then they began to struggle with each other until the Livingstones were brokeii up. Then the Martling men and the Clintonians, the Madi- sonians and the Clintonians, the Bucktails and the Clinto- nians, with various subdivisions, kept up the conflict until the Constitution of 1821 altered the conditions of the fight, and Regency and Anti-regency, or Regency and Peoples Party, or Regency and Workingmens Party, became the party headings. The net result of all this for national politics was the produc- tion of a class of finished politicians, skilled. in all the work of organization, which in any wide democracy must be the first consideration. Some of these gentlemen entered the national arena in 1824. The Regency was then supporting Crawford as the regular successor. On its own terms it could have been won for Adams, but this arrangement was not brought about. On reflection, it did not require the astuteness of these men to see that Jackson was the coming man. He was in and of the rising power. He represented a newer and more rigorous application of the Jeffersonian dogmas. His manners, tastes, education, had nothing cold or aristocratic about them. He had never been trained to aim at anything high, elegant, and refined, and had not been spoiled by contact with those who had developed the art of life. He had, more- over, the great advantage of military glory. He had bullied a judge, but he had won the battle of New Orleans. He had hung a man against the verdict of a court-martial, but the man was a British emissary. It was clear that a tide was rising which would carry him into the Presidential chair, and it behoved other ambitious men to cling to his skirts and be carried up with him. 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 67 It is in and around the tariff of 1828 that the conflict centres in which these various forces were combined or neu- tralized to accomplish the result, and the student of our eco- nomic or political history cannot pay too close study to that crisis. For the next fifteen years the financial and political questions are inextricably interwoven. The election of Jackson marks a new era in our political history. A new order of men appeared in the Federal admin- istration. The whole force of local adherents of the new ad- ministration, who had worked for it and therefore had claims upon it, streamed to Washington to get their reward. It seems that Jackson was forced into the reformation of the gov- ernment by the rapacity of this crowd. The political customs which had grown up in New York and Pennsylvania were transferred to Washington. Mr. Marcy, in a speech in the Senate, January 24, 1832, on Van Burens nomination as min- ister to England, boldly stated the doctrine that to the victors belong the spoils, avowing it as a doctrine which did not seem to him to call for any delicacy on the part of politicians. In fact, to men who had grown up as Mr. Marcy had, habit in this respect must have made that doctrine seem natural and ne- cessary to the political system. The New York politiciahs had developed an entire code of political morals for all branches and members of the political party machine. They had studied the passions, prejudices, and whims of bodies of men. They had built up an organization in which all the parts were adjusted to support and help one another. The subordinate officers looked up to and sustained the party leaders while carrying the party machinery into every nook and corner of the State, and the party leaders in turn cared for and protected their subordi- nates. Organization and discipline were insisted upon through- out the party as the first political duty, and t~iere is scarcely a phenomenon more interesting to the social philosopher than to observe, under a political system remarkable for its looseness and lack of organization, the social bond returning and vindi- cating itself in the form of party tyranny, and to observe under a political system where loyalty and allegiance to the Common- wealth are only names, how loyalty and allegiance to party are intensified. It is one of the forms under which the constant 68 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. peril of the system presents itself, namely, that a part may or- ganize to use the whole for narrow and selfish ends. The idea of the commonwealth is lost, and the public arena seems only a scrambling-ground for selfish cliques. In the especial case of the New York factions, this was all intensified by the fact that there were no dignified issues, no real questions of public policy at stake, but only factions of the ins and the outs, strug- gling for the spoils of office. Naturally enough, the contestants thought that to the victors belong the spoils, otherwise the contest had no sense at all. In this system, now, fidelity to a caucus was professed and enforced. Bolting, or running against a regular nomination, were high crimes which were rarely condoned. On the other hand, the leaders professed the doctrine that a man who surrendered his claims for the good of the party, or who stood by the party, must never be allowed to suffer for it, and that a man who bolted must be punished. The same doctrines had been accepted more or less at Wash- ington, but in a feeble and timid way. From this time they grew into firm recognition. Under their operation politics became a trade. The public officer was, of necessity, a politician, and the work by which he lived was not service in his official duty, but political party labor. The tenure of office was so insecure, and the pay so meagre, that few men could be found of suitable ability who did not think that they could earn their living more easily, pleasantly, and honorably in some other career. Public service gravitated downwards to the hands of those who, under the circumstances, were willing to take it. It presented some great prizes in the form of collectorships, etc., the remunera- tion for which was in glaring contrast with the salaries of some of the highest and most responsible officers in the government; but, for the most part, the public service fell into the hands pf men who were exposed to the temptation to make it pay. After the general onslaught on the caucus in 1824, it fell into disuse as a means of nominating State officers, and con- ventions took its place. At first sight this seemed to be a more complete fulfilment of the democratic idea. The people were to meet and act on their own motion. It soon was found, however, that the only change was in the necessity for higher organization. In the 80s there was indeed a fulfil- 1876.] Politic8 in America, 1776 1876. 69 ment of the theory which seems now to have passed away. There was a spontaneity and readiness in assembling and organizing common action which no longer exists. There was a public interest and activity far beyond what is now observ- able. One is astonished at the slight occasion on which meet- ings were held, high excitement developed, and energetic action inaugurated. The anti-Masonic movement, from 1826 to 1832~, is a good instance. The Liberty party (Abolition- ists), the Native Americans, the Anti-renters, all bear witness to a facility of association which certainly does not now exist. It is, hewever, an indispensable prerequisite to the pure operation of the machinery of caucus and convention. The effort to combine all good men has been talked about from the beginning, but it has always failed on account of the lack of a bond between them as strong as the bond of interest which unites the factions. During the decade from 1830 to 1840 a whole new set of machinery was created to fit the new arrangements. This consisted in committees, caucuses, and conventions, ramifying down finally into the wards of great cities, and guided and handled by astute and experienced men. Under their control the initiative of the people died out. The public saw men elected whom they had never chosen, and measures adopted which they had never desired, and themselves, in short, made the sport of a system which cajoled and flattered while it cheated them. If a governor had been elected by some politi- cal trickery a little more flagrant than usual, he was very apt, in his inaugural, to draw a dark picture of the effete mon- archies of the Old World, and to congratulate the people on the blessings they enjoyed in being able to choose their own rulers. This period was full of new energy and turbulent life. Rail- roads were just beginning to carry on the extension of produc- tion which steamboats and canals had begun. Immigration was rapidly increasing. The application of anthracite coal to the arts was working a revolution in them. On every side reigned the greatest activity. Literature and science, which had before had but a meagre existence, were coming into life. The public journals, which had formerly been organs of per- 70 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. 80fl5 and factions, or substitutes for books, now began to be transformed into the modern newspaper. The difficulties and problems presented by all this new life were indeed great, and the tasks of government, as well to discriminate between what belonged to it and what did not,as to do what did belong to it, were great. On the general principles of the Democratic party of the day in regard to the province of government, his- tory has already passed the verdict that they were sound and correct. On the main qnestions which divided the administrh- tion and the opposition, it must pass a verdict in favor of the administration. These issues were not indeed clear, and the parties did not take sides upon them definitely, as is generally supposed. Free-trade, so far as it was represented by the compromise tariff, was the result of a coalition between Clay and Calhoun against the administration, after Calhouns quar- rel with Jackson had led the latter to revoke the understand- ing in accordance with which Calhoun retired from the contest of 1824 and took the second place. The South was now in the position in which the Northeastern States had found them- selves at the beginning of the century. The Southerners con- sideied that the tariff of 1828 had subjected their interests to the interests of another section, which held a majority in the general government, and that the Union was being used only as a means of so subjecting them. The? seized upon the Ken- tucky and Virginia resolutions of 1798, which Jefferson and Madison had drawn when in opposition, as furnishing them a ground of resistance, and threw into the tariff question no less a stake than civil war and disunion. On this issue there were no parties. South Carolina stood alone. Banks had been political questions in the States and in the general government from the outset. The history of Pennsyl- vania and New York furnishes some great scandals under this head. The methods of banking employed had called down the condemnation of the most conservative and sensible men from time to time, and had aroused some of less well-balanced judg- ment to indiscriminate hostility. Jacksons attack on the Bank of the JiJnited States sprang from a political motive, and he proposed instead of it a bank on the credit and revenues of the government, a proposition too vague to be under~ 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 71 stood, but which suggested a grand paper-machine, at a time when the Bank of the United States was at its best. This attack rallied to itself at once all the local banks, and the great victory of 1832 was not a victory for hard money so much as it was a victory of the State banks over the national bank. The removal of the deposits was a reckless financial step, and the crash of 1837 was its direct result. The traditional position of the Democratic party on hard money has another source. In 1835 a party sprang up in New York City as a faction of Tammany, which took the name of the Equal Rights party, but which soon received the name of the Loco Foco party, from an incident which occurred at Tammany Hall, and which is significant of the sharpness of party tactics at the time. This party was a radi- cal movement inside of the administration party. It claimed, and justly enough, that it had returned to the Jeffersonian fountain and drawn deeper and purer waters than the Jack- sonian Democrats. It demanded equality with a new energy, and in its denunciations of monopolies and banks went very close to the rights of property. It demanded that all charters should be repealable, urgently favored a metallic currency, resisted the application of English precedents in law courts and legislatures, and desired an elective judiciary. It lasted as a separate party only five or six years, and then was cajoled out of existence by superior political tactics; but it was not without reason that the name spread to the whole party, for, laying aside certain extravagances, two or three of its chief features soon came to be adopted by the Democrats. On the great measures of public policy, therefore, the posi tion of the administration was not clear and thorough, but the tendency was in-the right direction, especially when contrasted with the policy urged by the Whigs. In regard to internal improvements, the administration early took up a position which the result fully justified, and in its opposition to the distribution of the surplus revenue its position was unassail- able. In its practical administration of the government there is less ground for satisfaction in the retrospect. Besides the general lowering of tone which has been mentioned, there were scandals and abuses which it is not necessary to specify. Gen Politic8 in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. eral Jacksons first cabinet fell to pieces suddenly, under the effect of a private scandal and the Presidents attempt to coerce the private social tastes of his cabinet, or rather of their wives. He held to the doctrine of popularity, and its natural effect upon a man of his temper, without the sobriety of training and culture, was to stimulate him to lawless self- will. He regarded himself as the chosen representative of the whole people, charged, as such, with peculiar duties over against Congress. The will of the people here received a new extension. He found it in himself, and what he found there he did not hesitate to set in opposition to the will of the people, as it found expression through their constitutional organs. At the same time the practice of instructions marked an extension, on another side, of the general tendency to bring public action closer under the control of changing majorities. Van Burens election was a triumph of the caucus and con- vention, which had now been reduced to scarcely less exactitude of action than the old congressional caucus. Van Buren, how- ever, showed more principle than had been expected from his reputation. He had to bear all the blame of the evil fruits re- sulting from the mistakes made during the last eight years. Moving with the radical or locofoco tendency, he attempted to sever bank and state by the independent treasury, and in so doing he lost the support of the Bank Democrats. This, together with the natural political revulsion after a financial crisis, lost him his re-election. The Whig party was rich in able men, which makes it bhe more astonishing that one cannot find, in their political doc- trines, a sound policy of government. The national bank may still be regarded as an open question, and favoring the bank was not favoring inconvertible paper-money; but their policy of high tariff for protection, internal improvements, and dis- tribution of the surplus revenue, has been calamitous so far as it has been tried. They also present the same lack of political sagacity which we have remarked in the Federalists, whose suc- cessors in general they were. They oscillated between prin- ciple and expediency in such a way as to get the advantages of neither; and they abandoned their best men for available 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. men at just such times as to throw away all their advantages. The campaign of 1840 presents a pitiful story. There are features in it which are almost tragic. An opportunity for success offering, a man was chosen who had no marks of emi- nence and no ability for the position. His selection bears witness to an anxious search for a military hero. It resulted in finding one whose glory had to be exhumed from the doubt- ful tradition of a border Indian war. The campaign was marked by the introduction of mass meetings and systematic stump speaking, and by the erection of log-cabins, which generally served as bar-rooms for the assembled crowd, so that many a man who went to a drunkards grave twenty or thirty years ago dated his ruin from the hard-cider campaign. After the election it proved that hungry Whigs could imitate the Democrats of 1829 in their clamor for office, and, if anything, better the instruction. The Presidents death was partly charged to worry and fatigue. It left Mr. Tyler President, and the question then arose what Mr. Tyler was, a question. to which the convention at Harrisburg, fatigued with the choice between Clay and Harrison, had not given much attention. It was found that he was such that the Whig victory turned to ashes. No bank was possible, no distribution was possible, and only a tariff which was lame and feeble from the Whig point of view. The cabinet resigned, leaving Mr. Webster alone at his post. In vain, like a true statesman, he urged the Whigs to rule with Mr. Tyler, since they had got him and could not get rid of him or get anybody else. Like a true statesman, again, he remained at his post, in spite of misrepresentation, until he could finish the English treaty, and it was another feature of the story that he lost position with his party by so doing. The system did not allow Mr. Webster the highest reward of a statesman, to plan and mould measures so as to impress him- self on the history of his country. It allowed him only the work of reducing to a minimum the harm which other peoples measures were likely to do. In the circumstances of the time war with England was imminent, and there was good reason for fear, if the negotiation should fall into the hands of the men whom Mr. Tyler was gathering about him. The Whigs were broken and discouraged, and as their discipline had always been Politic8 in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. far looser than that of their adversaries, they seemed threatened with disintegration. The other party, however, was divided by local issues and broken into factions. Its discipline had suffered injury, and its old leaders had. lost their fire, while new ones had not arisen to take their places. The Western States were growing into a size and influence in the confeder- ation which made it impossible for two or three of the old States to control national politics any longer. ~- In this state of things the Southern leaders came forward to give impetus and direction to the national administration. They had, what the Southern politicians always had, leisure for conference. They had also character and social position, and a code of honor whicW enabled them to rely on one another without any especial bond of interest other than the general one. They had such a bond, common and complete, in their stake in slavery. They could count on support throughout their entire section without doubt or danger. They had a fixed programme also, which was an immense advantage for entering on the control of a mass of men under no especial impetus. They had also their traditional alliance with the Democrats of the North, an alliance which always was un- natural and illogical, and which now turned to the perversion of that party. They prepared their principles, doctrines, and constitutional theories to fit their plans. Difficulties with Mexico in regardto Texas had arisen dur- ing Jacksons administration. These difficulties seemed to be gratuitous and unjust on the part of the United States, and they seemed to be nursed by the same power. The diplo- matic correspondence on this affair is not pleasant reading to one who would see his country honorable and upright, as unwilling to bully as to be bullied. Such was not the posi- tion of the United States in this matter. It was determined by the Southern leaders to annex Texas to the United States, and to this end they seized upon the political machinery and proceeded to employ it. The election of Polk is another of the points to which the student of American politics should give careful attention. The intrigues which surrounded it have never been more than partially laid bare, but, if fairly studied, they give deep insight 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 75 into the nature of the forces which operate in the name of the will of the people. The slavery issue was here introduced into American politics; and when that question was once raised, it could not be settled until it was settled right. For ten years efforts were made to keep the issue out of politics, and to pre- vent parties from dividing upon it. What was desired was that the old parties should stand in name and organization, in order that th~ey might be used, while the actual purposes were obtained by subordinate means. A party with an organization and dis- cipline, and a history such as the Democratic party had in 1844, is a valuable property. It is like a well-trained and docile animal which will go through the appointed tasks at the given signal. It disturbs the discipline to introduce new watchwords and to depart from the routine, in order to use reason instead of habit. Hence the effort is to ~reduce the new and important issues to subordinate places, to carry them incidentally, while the old commonplaces hold together the organization. It is safe to say, however, that, in the long run, the true issues are sure to become the actual issues, and that delay and deceit only intensify the conflict. Upon Polk s election the independent treasury and compar- ative free-trade were fixed in the policy of the government for fifteen years, with such beneficial results as to render them the proudest traditions of the party which adopted them. Mr. Calhoun had abandoned the opposition during Van Burens administration, and had begun to form and lead the Southern movement. His own mind moved too rapidly for his adherents, and he could not bring them to support him up to the positions which lie considered it necessary to take; but, even as it was,the steps of the Southern programme came out with a rapidity, and were of a character, to shock the imperfectly pre- pared Northern allies. The Democratic party of the North was not a proslavery party. Whigs and Democrats at the North united in frowning down Abolition excitements, and in main- taining the compromises of the Consti1~ution. Old-line Whigs and hunker Democrats agreed in the conservatism which resist- ed the introduction of this question; but when Van Buren was asked, as a test question to a candidate, in 1844, whether he would favor the annexation of Texas, the subject of slavery in 76 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. the Territories was thrown into the political arena from the Southern side. It was not then a question of abolishing slavery in the Southern States, which could not have obtained discussion except in irresponsible newspapers and on irresponsible plat- forms. It was not a question of spreading slavery into the old Territories, for Texas and the Indian Territory barred the way to all which the Missouri Compromise left open. It was now a question of taking or buying or conquering new territory for slavery, and every one knew well that the chief reason for the revolt of Texas was that Mexico had abolished slavery. The South indeed claimed to have suffered aggressions and encroach- ments in regard to slavery ever since the adoption of the Con- stitution, and the attempt was now to be made to secure recom- pense. In the form in which the proposition came up it was no Blight shock to those who had7 always been in alliance with the South. Party men like Van Buren and Benton drew back. Southerners like Clay resisted. The actual clash of arms, fraud- ulently brought about and speciously misrepresented, put an end to discussion, and aroused a war fever under the pernicious motto, Our country, right or wrong. If we are a free people and govern ourselves, our country is ourselves, and we have no guaranty of right and justice if we throw those standards behind us the moment we have done wrong enough to find our- selves at war. The war ended, moreover, in an acquisition of territory, which, of course, was popular; and it proved that this territory was rich in precious metals, which added to the popu- lar estimate of it. The antecedents of the war were forgotten. Its political results, however, were far more important. Calhoun now came forward to ward off a long conflict in regard to slavery in these Territories, by the new doctrine that the Constitution extended to all the national domain, and car- ried slavery with it, a doctrine which his followers did not, for ten years afterwards, dare to take up and rigorously apply, and which divided the Democratic party of the North. The repeal of the Missouri Compromise and the enactment of the Fugitive Slave Law were only steps in the conflict which was as yet confused, but which was clearing itself for a crisis. The South, like every clamorous suitor, reckless of consequences, obtained wide concessions from an adversary who sought peace 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 77 and contentment, and who saw clearly the dangers of a strug- gle outside the limits of constitution and law. The Abolitionists, from their first organization, pursued an irreconcilable course. They refused to vote for any slave- holder, or for any one who would vote for a slaveholder, and refused all alliances which involved any concession whatever. They more than once, by this course, aided the party most hostile to them, and, in the view of the ordinary politician, were guilty of great folly. They showed, however, what is the power of a body which has a principle and has no am- bition, and is contelit to remain in a minority. Probably, if the South had been more moderate, the Abolitionists would have attracted little more notice than a fanatical religious sect; but, as events marched on, they came to stand as the leaders in the greatest political movement of our history. The refusal of the Whig Convention of 1848 to adopt an antislavery reso- lution, and the great acts above mentioned, together with the popular reaction against a party which, if it had had its way, would never have won the grand Territories on the Pacific, destroyed the Whig party. The party managers, enraged at the immense foreign element which they saw added year by year to their adversaries, forming a cohort, as it appeared, especially amenable to party discipline and the dictation of party managers, took up the Native American movement, which had had some existence ever since the great tide of immigration set in. The effort was wrecked on the obvious economic follies involved in it. How could a new country set hindrances against the immigration of labor? Politically, the effect was great in confirming the allegiance of naturalized voters, as a mass, to the Democratic party as the party which would protect their political privileges against malicious attacks. The formation of the Free- Soil party or its development into the Republican party, brought the extension of slavery into the Territories, and the extension of its influence in the administration of the government, dis- tinctly forward as the controlling political issue. On this issue the Democratic party, as a political organiza- tion, made up traditionally of the Southern element which has been described, of so much of the old Northern Democratic party as had not been repelled by the recent advances in 78 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. Southern demands, and of the large body of immigrants who regarded that party as the poor mans and the immigrants friend, fell out of the place it had occupied as the representa- tive of the great democratic tide which flows through and forms our political history. This movement has been in favor of equality. It has borne down and obliterated all the tra- ditions and prejudices which were inherited from the Old World. It has eliminated from our history almost all recol- lection of the old Federal party, with its ideas of social and political leadership. It has crushed out the prestige of wealth and education in politics. It has restraiaed the respect and authority due to office, by nartow tenures, and by cutting away all terms of language and ceremonial observances tending to mark official rank. The Northern hatred of slavery in the later days was due more to the feeling that it was undemo- cratic than to the feeling that it was immoral. It was always an anomaly that the Virginians should be democrats par excel- lence, and should regard the yeomen farmers of New England as aristocrats, when, on any correct definitions or standards, the New England States were certainly the most democratic commonwealths in the world. Slavery was an obvious bar to any such classification; and when slavery became a political issue, the parties found their consistent and logical position. The rise and victory of the Republican party was only a con- tinuation of the same grand movement for equality. The old disputes between Federalists and Jeffersonians had ended in such a complete victory for the latter, that the rising genera- tion would have enumerated the Jeffersonian doctrines as axioms or definitions of American institutions. Every school- boy could dogmatize about natural and inalienable rights, abo~it the conditions under which men are created, about the rights of the majority, and about liberty. The same doctrines are so held to-day by the mass of the people, and they are held so implicitly that corollaries are deduced from them with a more fearless logic than is employed upon political questions any- where else in the world. Even scholars and philosophers who reflect upon them and doubt them are slow to express their dissent, so jealous and quick is the popular judgment of an attempt upon them. The Democratic party of the 50s was, 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 79 therefore, false to its fundamental principle of equality when it followed its alliance with the South, and allowed itself to be carried against equality for negroes. Whether there were not subtle principles of human nature at work is a question too far reaching to be followed here. With the rise of the Republican party there came new elements into American politics. The question at stake was moral in form. It enlisted unselfish and moral and religious motives. It reached outside the proper domain of politick, the expedient measures to be adopted for ends recognized as desirable, and involved justice and right in regard to the ends. It enlisted, therefore, heroic elements, sacrifice for moral good, and devotion to right in spite of expediency. At the same time, the issue was clear, simple, single, and distinct. The organization upon it was close and harmonious, not on account of party discipline, but on account of actual concord in motive and purpose. The American system was here seen in many respects at its best, and it worked more nearly up to its theoretical results in the election of Lincoln, a thoroughly rep- resentative man out of the heart of the majority, than in any other election in our history. It is probably the recollection and standard of this state of things which leads men now on the stage to believe that corruption is spreading and that the political system is degenerating. It is one of the peculiarities of the government of the United States, that it has little his- torical continuity. If it had more, or if people had more knowledge of their own political history, the above-mentioned opinion would find little ground. The student of history who goes back searching for the golden age does not find it. All the heroic elements in the political issue of 1860 were, of course, intensified by the war. There was the conscious- ness of patriotic sacrifice in submitting to loss, bloodshed, and taxation, for an idea, for the further extension of political blessings long enjoyed and highly esteemed. After the war, national pride and consciousness of power expanded naturally, but the questions which then arose were of a different order. They were properly political questions. They concerned taxa.. tion, finance, the reconstruction of the South, the status of the freedmen. The war fervor, or the moral fervor of the political 80 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. contest could not remain at the former high pitch. There fol- lowed a natural reaction. Questions which touched the re- sults of the war brought a quick and eager response. It would not be in human nature if that response should not be tinged by hatred of rebels and the worse passions which war arouses. For war is at best but a barbarous makeshift for deciding political questions. Let them be never so high and pure in their moral aspects, war drags them down into contact with the lowest and basest passions,cruelty, rapacity, and revenge. Moreover, it was natural that people should want rest and quiet after the anxiety and excitement of war. Every house- holder desired to enjoy in peace the political system which he had defended and established by war; he did not care to renew the excitement on the political arena. The questions which arose were no longer such as could be decided by refer- ence to a general political dogma, or a moral principle, or a text of Scripture. They were such as to perplex and baffle the wisest constitutional lawyer, or the ablest financier, or the wisest statesman. The indifference and apathy which ensued were remarkable, and they probably had still other causes. The last twenty-five years have seen immense additions to the number and variety of subjects which claim a share of the interest and attention of intelligent men. Literature has taken an entirely new extension and form. Newspapers bring daily information of the political and social events of a half-dozen civilized countries. New sciences appeal to the interest of the entire community. Educational, ecclesiastical, sanitary, and economic undertakings, in which the public wel- fare is involved, demand a part of the time and effort of every citizen. At the same time, trade and industry have undergone such changes in form and method that success in them demands far closer and more exclusive application than formerly. The social organization is becoming more complex, the division of labor is necessarily more refined, and the value of expert abil- ity is rapidly rising. It follows from all this that, while public interests are be- coming broader and weightier, the ability of the average voter to cope with them is declining. It is no wonder that we have not the political activity of the first half of this century. In- 1876.] Politics in America, 17761876. 81 stead of grasping at the right to a share in deciding, we shrink from the responsibility. We are more inclined to do here what we should do in any other affair, seek for competently trained hands into which to commit the charge. The frequent elections, instead of affording a pleasurable interest to the ordinary voter, appear to be tiresome interruptions. What he wants is good government, honorable and efficient administra- tion, business-like permanence, and exactitude. He recognizes in the short terms and continual elections, not an opportunity for him to control the government, but an opportunity for pro- fessional hangers-on of parties to make a living, and a continu- ally recurring opportunity for schemers of various grades to enter and carry out their plans when people are too busy to watch them. The opinion seems to be gaining ground that, for fear of power, we have eliminated both efficiency and re- sponsibility; that if power is united with responsibility, it will be timid and reluctant enough; and that the voter needs only reserve the right of supervision and interference from time to time. The later State constitutions show a reaction from those of the first half of the century in the length of terms of office, and in the general tendency of the people to take guaranties against themselves or their representatives. There seems also to be a tendency to investigate the theory of appointments or elections to office as a means of devising more satisfactory means to that end. No system will ever give a self-governing people a government which is better than they can appreciate; but the very belief, to which we have before referred, that the government is degenerating, is the best proof that the public standards as to the yersonnel and the methods of the govern- ment are rising. It seems to be perceived that the plan of popular selection is applicable to executive and legislative officers, but that it is not applicable to the judiciary or to admin- istrative officers. In the one case, broad questions of policy control the choice; in the other case, personal qualifications and technical training, in regard to which the mass of voters cannot be informed and cannot judge. In some quarters, an unfortunate effort has been made to charge the duty of making certain appointments upon the judges, because, as a class, they retain the greatest popular confidence, and the restraints VOL. CXXII. NO. 250. __ 6 82 Politics in America, 1TT618~T(3. [Jan. of their position are the weightiest. This, however, seems to be using up our last reserves. There has been abundant criti- cism of political movements and circumstances of late years. At first sight, it does not appear to be very fruitful. People seem to pay as little heed to it as devout Catholics do to the asserted corruptions of the Church; but other and deeper signs point to a conservative movement, slow, as all popular movements must be, but nevertheless real. The political party system which had been developed pre- vious to the war underwent no change during the heroic period. The doctrines of spoils and of rotation in office were indeed condemned, but it appeared (as it must appear to any new party coming into office) that the interests at stake were too great to be risked by leaving any part of the administration in the hands of disaffected men, and, with some apologies, the changes were made. It is the fate of the party in power to draw to itself all the unprincipled men who seek to live by pol- itics, and to lose its principled adherents as, on one question after another, they disapprove of its action. The moral and heroic doctrines or sentiments of the Republican party were just the political principles which offered the best chance to the unprincipled. A man of corrupt character could hate slavery when that was the line of popularity and success, and could be loyal when only loyal men could get offices. The political machinery whose growth has been traced was adopted by the new party as a practical necessity, and the men inside politics~ still teach the old code wrought out by Tam- many Hall and the Albany Regency, not only as the only rules of success for the ambitious politician, but also as the only sound theories on which the Republic can be governed. In those quarters where hitherto the refinements of the system have all been invented, a new and ominous development has recently appeared in the shape of the Boss. He is the last and perfect flower of the long development at which hundreds of skilful and crafty men have labored, and into which the American people have put by far the greatest part of their political energy. It has been observed that the discipline or coercion which we dread for national purposes and under con- stitutional forms appears with the vigor of a military depotism 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 83 in party; and that the conception of loyalty, for which we can find no proper object in our system, is fully developed in the party. Under this last development, also, we find leadership, aristocratic authority of the ablest, nay, even the monarchical control of the party king. He is a dictator out of office. He has power, without the annoyance or restraints of office. He is the product of a long process of natural selection. He has arisen from the ranks, has been tried by various tests, has been trained in subordinate positions, and has come up by steady promotions, all the processes which, when we try to get them into the public service, we are told are visionary and aristo- cratic. With the now elaborate system of committees rising in a hierarchy from the ward to the nation, with the elaborate system of primaries, nominating ~committees, caucuses, and conventions, not one citizen in a thousand could tell the pro- cess by which a city clerk is elected. It becomes a special trade to watch over and manage these things, and the power which rules is not the will of the people, but the address with which slates are made up. Organization is the secret by which the branches of the political machinery are manipu- lated, when they are not, by various devi~s, r~uced, as in the larger cities, to mere forms. In these cases ~the ring and the Boss are the natural outcome. Any one who gets control of the machine can run it to produce what he desires, with the exception, perhaps, that, if he should try to make it produce good, he might find that this involved a reverse action of the entire mechanism, under which it would break to pieces. These developments are as yet local, for the plunder of a great city is a prize not to be abandoned for any temptation which the general government can offer. In some cases they are hostile to the power of the Federal office.holders where that is greatest and most dangerous, so that they neutralize each other. At the same time some of the Federal legislation in the way of protection and subsidies offers high inducements and abun- dant opportunities for debauching the public service. There are means of rewarding adherents, distributing largess, collect- ing campaign funds, performing favors, afforded by the sys- tem in great abundance; aiA it tends to bind men together in cliques up and down through the service, on the basis of mu- 84 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. tual assistance and support and protection. Suppose that the ring and the Boss should ever be ingrafted upon this system! It cannot be regarded as a healthful sign that such a state of things creates only a laugh, or a groan of disgust, or at best a critical essay. It seems sometimes as if the prophecy of Calhoun had turned into history: When it comes to be once understood that politics is a game, that those who are engaged in it but act a part, and that they make this or that profession, not from honest conviction or an intent to fulfil them, but as a means of deluding the people, and, through that delusion, ac- quiring power, when such professions are to be entirely for- gotten, the people will lose all confidence in public men. All will be regarded as mere jugglers, the honest and patriotic as well as the cunning and profligate, and the peoph~ will become ~indifferent and passive to the grossest abuses of power, on the ground that those whom they may elevate, under whatever pledges, instead of reforming, will but imitate the example of those whom they have expelled. In the final extension of the conception of the will of the people, and of the position of Congress in relation to it, Congress has come to be timid and faltering in the face of diffi- cult tasks. It knows how to go when the people have spoken, and not otherwise. The politician gets his opinions from the elections, and the legislature wants to be pushed, even in reference to matters which demand promptitude and energy. Statesmanship has no positive field, and has greatly declined. The number of able men who formerly gave their services to mould, correct, and hinder legislation, and upon whom the re- sponsibility for leading on doubtful and difficult measures could be thrown, has greatly decreased. The absence of leaders has often been noticed. The fact seems to be that able men have observed that such statesmen as have been described bore the brunt of the hard work, and were held responsible for what they had done their best to hinder; that they cherished a vain hope and ambition their whole lives long, and saw inferior ihen without talent or industry preferred before them. It is a sad thing hi observe the tone adopted towards a mere member of Congress as such. When one reflects that he is a m3mber of the grand legislature of the nation, it is no gratifying sign of 1876.] Politic8 in America, 1776 1876. 85 the times that he should be regarded without respect, that a slur upon his honor should be met as presumptively just, and that boys should turn flippant jests upon the office, as if it involved a dubious reputation. If the Republic possesses the power to meet and conquer its own tasks, it cannot too soon take measures to secure a representative body which shall re- spect itself and be respected, without doubt or question, both at homa and abroad; for the times have changed and the ques.. tions have changed, and we can no longer afford to govern ourselves by means of the small men. The interests are now too vast and complex, and the greatest question now impending, the currency, contains too vast possibilities of mischief to this entire generation to be left the sport of incompetent men. The democratic Republic exults in the fact that it has conducted a great civil war to a successful result, against the expectations of its enemies. A far heavier strain on democratic-republican self-government lies in the questions now impending, can we ward off subsidy-schemers? can we correct administrative abuses? can we purify the machinery of elections? can we revise erroneous financial systems and construct sound ones? The war appealed to the simplest and commonest instincts of human nature, especially as human nature is developed under democratic institutions. The questions before us demand for their solution high intellectual power and training, great moderation and self-control, and perhaps no less disposition to endure sacrifices than the war itself. Such a review as has here been given of the century of American politics must raise the questions, whether the coprse has been upward or downward, and whether the experiment is a success or not. On such questions opinions might fairly differ, and I prefer to express upon them only an individual opinion. The Federal political system, such as it is historically in the intention and act of its framers, seems to me open to no objec- tion whatever, and to he the only one consistent with the cir- cumstances of the case. I have pursued here a severe and exact criticism of its history, as the only course consistent with the task before me, and the picture may seem dark and ungrati 86 Politics in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. Lying. I know of no political history which, if treated in the same unsparing way, would appear much better. I find nothing in our history to throw doubt upon the feasibility and practical advantage of a constitutional Republic. That system, however, assumes and imperatively requires high intelligence, great po- litical sense, self-sacrificing activity, moderation, and self-con- frol on the part of the citizens. It is emphatically a system for sober-minded men. It demands that manliness and breadth of view which consider all the factors in a question, submit to no sophistry, never cling to a detail, or an objection, or a side issue to the loss of the main point, and, above all, which can measure a present advantage against a future loss, and individ- ual interest against the common good. These requirements need only be mentioned to show that they are so high that it is no wonder we should have fallen short of them in our history. - The task of history is to show us wherein and why, so that we may do better in future. If the above sketch of our political history has been present- ed with any success, it shows the judgment which has been im- pressed upon my mind by the study of it, namely, that the tenor of the Constitution has undergone a steady remoulding in his- tory in the direction of democracy. If a written constitution were hedged about by all the interpretations conceivable, until it were as large as the Talmud, it could not be protected from the historical process which makes it a different thing to one generation from what it is to another, according to the uses and needs of each. I have mentioned the forces which seem to me to produce democracy here. They are material and physical, and there is no fighting against them. It is, how- ever, in my judgment, a corruption of democracy to set up the dogma that all men are equally competent to give judgment on political questions; and it is a still worse perversion of it to adopt the practical rule that they must be called upon to exer- cise this ability on all questions as the regular process for get- ting those questions solved. The dogma is false, and the prac- tical rule is absurd. Caucus and wire-pulling and all the other abuses are only parasites which grow upon these errors. Reform does not seem to me to lie in restricting the suf- frage or in other arbitrary measures of a revolutionary nature. 1876.] Politics in America, 1776 1876. 87 They are impossible, if they were desirable. Experience is the oniy teacher whose authority is admitted in this school, and I look to experience to teach us all, that the power of election must be used to select competent men to deal with questions, and not to indirectly decide the questions themselves. I ex- pect that this experience will be very painful, and I expect it very soon. On the question whether we are degenerating or not, I have already suggested my opinion that we are not degenerating. The lamentations on that subject have never been silent. It seems to me that, taking the whole community through, the tone is rising and the standard is advancing, and that this is one great reason why the system seems to be degenerating. Existing legislation nourishes and produces some startling scandals, which have great effect on peoples minds. The same legislation has demoralized the people, and perverted their ideas of the functions of government even in the details of town and ward interests. The political machinery also has been refined and perfected until it totally defeats the popular will, and has produced a kind of despair in regard to any effort to recover that of which the people have been robbed; but I think that it would be a great mistake to suppose that there are not, behind all this, quite as high political standards and as sound a public will as ever before. An obvious distinction must be made here between the administration of the government, or the methods of party politics, and the general political morale of the people. Great scandals are quickly forgotten, and there are only too many of them throughout our history. Party methods have certainly become worse and worse. The public service has cer- tainly deteriorated; but I should judge that the political will of the nation never was purer than it is to-day. That will needs instruction and guidance. It is instructed only slowly and by great effort, especially through literary efforts, because it has learned distrust. It lacks organization, and its efforts are spasmodic and clumsy. The proofs of its existence are not very definite or specific, and any one in xpressing a judgment must be influenced by the circle with which he is most familiar; but there are some public signs of it, which are the best en- couragement we have to-day. W. G. SUMNER. 88 Abatract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. ART. 111.ABSTRACT SCIENCE IN AMERICA, 17761870. IF we were called upon to decide in what field of purely in- tellectual effort a people, situated as ours were at the beginning of their national existence, would be least likely to distinguish themselves, we should hardly hesitate to say, the field of abstract science in all its parts, physical, political, and intellec- tual. One reason for this conclusion lies upon the surface. That precise knowledge of the first knowable principles which underlie the phenomena of nature, and that seemingly useless tracing of the ideas of Nature through the minutest details of her operations, are, among important intellectual employments, those of which the natural man, though enlightened, least feels the want. He cannot live in society without feeling the want, ~rst, of a code of laws, and then of a knowledge of law in gen- eral. He cannot advance far in intellectual capacity without feeling the want of a literature with which to beguile his weary hours, nor can he read much that is good without appreciating the difference between the good and the bad. It needs no rare and peculiar gifts or taste to be enraptured with the charms of music, and with the beauties of form and color. But how will he ever learn to care for the seeming technicalities of sci- entific investigation? Undoubtedly, a curiosity to know many things respecting the phenomena of nature will arise as natu- rally as will the love of literature and art, and will be as widely extended. We cannot imagine a man loving to read without feeling some curiosity respecting the nature and purpose of the heavenly bodies, while a certain amount of knowledge re- specting animals and plants is necessarily acquired by every backwoodsman. But the acquisition of knowledge of this class does not constitute scientific progress. When we touch upon the consideration of the circles of the celestial sphere, the atomic weights of the chemical elements, the homologies of corresponding parts of the various species of animals, or the laws of hereditary descent, and especially when we enter upon that minute analysis of every-day subjects which is at the same time so necessary to their philosophic comprehension, and so

88 Abatract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. ART. 111.ABSTRACT SCIENCE IN AMERICA, 17761870. IF we were called upon to decide in what field of purely in- tellectual effort a people, situated as ours were at the beginning of their national existence, would be least likely to distinguish themselves, we should hardly hesitate to say, the field of abstract science in all its parts, physical, political, and intellec- tual. One reason for this conclusion lies upon the surface. That precise knowledge of the first knowable principles which underlie the phenomena of nature, and that seemingly useless tracing of the ideas of Nature through the minutest details of her operations, are, among important intellectual employments, those of which the natural man, though enlightened, least feels the want. He cannot live in society without feeling the want, ~rst, of a code of laws, and then of a knowledge of law in gen- eral. He cannot advance far in intellectual capacity without feeling the want of a literature with which to beguile his weary hours, nor can he read much that is good without appreciating the difference between the good and the bad. It needs no rare and peculiar gifts or taste to be enraptured with the charms of music, and with the beauties of form and color. But how will he ever learn to care for the seeming technicalities of sci- entific investigation? Undoubtedly, a curiosity to know many things respecting the phenomena of nature will arise as natu- rally as will the love of literature and art, and will be as widely extended. We cannot imagine a man loving to read without feeling some curiosity respecting the nature and purpose of the heavenly bodies, while a certain amount of knowledge re- specting animals and plants is necessarily acquired by every backwoodsman. But the acquisition of knowledge of this class does not constitute scientific progress. When we touch upon the consideration of the circles of the celestial sphere, the atomic weights of the chemical elements, the homologies of corresponding parts of the various species of animals, or the laws of hereditary descent, and especially when we enter upon that minute analysis of every-day subjects which is at the same time so necessary to their philosophic comprehension, and so 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 89 distasteful t~ the ordinary mind, our hearers will rapidly dis- appear. We have thus an obvious cause why, in a country like ours, scientific investigation worthy of the name should commence only when a very advanced point of intellectual development had been reached. But an allied, though less obvious element enters among the causes of scientific progress which is worthy of very serious consideration. The intellect of a nation may exhibit peculiarities, as well as that of an individual, leading to its being eminently successful in some directions, while wholly failing in others. We do not here refer to well-known. general differences in the intellectual power of different races, the Cau- casian and the Mongolian, for instance, but to differences of special faculties or tastes between people whose general powers are on the whole equal. A study of the history of modern science will show plenty of instances of the diffusion of special powers among a large part of a nation or of their seeming total - absence, for which it is extremely difficult to account. One such is afforded by the development of the theory of gravi- tation. The establishment of universal gravitation was an achievement of the British intellect, as well as of Newton, since several of his countrymen were very little behind him in the course of thought which led to this result. The superiority of Englishmen in the powers of investigation necessary to estab- lish the theory would seem to be evinced by the readin~ss with which they perceived its truth and traced its effects, while a generation of Continental mathematicians occupied them- selves with puerile objections to it. But, with the publication of the Principia, the development of the subject came to a dead stop in England, and while Clairant, Lagrange, and Laplace were working out the results of Newtons discovery, there was scarcely an Englishman who could even understand their writ- ings. The liberal rewards by which the British government have sometimes so honorably expressed the national apprecia- tion of the men who have made gravitation instrumental in the determination of longitude at sea have all gone to foreigners. Although the British Nautical Almanac is mainly founded on data derived from the Greenwich observations, the labor of putting these data into a tabular shape to be used has, during the entire century, been performed by foreigners. 90 Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. We see here a striking difference between the intellectual productions of two peoples, a difference showing itself through two centuries, and yet arising from what might seem as too slight a difference in the characters of the in- tellects themselves to require notice. The English intellect was perhaps the more scientific of the two; it was more ready in grasping the ideas of nature, in seeing the correlations of natural phenomena, in distinguishing between the relevant and the irrelevant in propositions, and in freeing itself from the trammels of philosophic systems when it turned its attention toward the external world. In short, it was generally supe- rior in everything connoted by the word sagacity. But, the general idea of nature once grasped and expressed in mathe- matical language, the Continental intellect was that best adapt- ed to tracing it to its results by deductive operations. These required powers of minute analysis, of close concentration upon minute points, and of patient endurance while carrying through long trains of thought, which the English intellect did not possess, and has never since acquired. A critical history of scientific thought during the three cen- turies which have elapsed since the revival of science would, no doubt, show many other fruits of the difference we have sought to elucidate. It would be seen that in everything requiring sagacity, in pregnant suggestions, and in discoveries reached by induction, England would be ahead of any other nation; while the development of the discoveries, or at least every branch of the development which required patient indus- try and minute analysis, would have been found left to,other nations. The illustration need not be confined to physical science. Political economy, as hitherto developed, is just that branch of applied thought, if we may use the expression, which most requires sagacity for its apprehension and application; and this quality is seen pre-eminently in the large comparative ratio of sense to nonsense in the mass of English writing on the subject. One disposed to study what we might call the intellectual natural history of nations would find an instructive subject for investigation in the different views of IDarwinism prevalent in the four great intellectual nations of the world. In the land 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 17761876. 91 of its origin it is a subject of fierce controversy between the religious world on the one side and the scientific one on the other; in Germany, received with universal applause as one of the great philosophic triumphs of the century; in France, ~o utterly groundless a piece of speculation as to be unworthy of the attention of a biologist; in America, received by natural- ists, but viewed by the public as something on which it is quite incompetent to pass judgment. If, now, one enters upon a critical examination of the judg- ing faculty of the American people, as shown by their reason- ing on subjects of every class, one can hardly avoid being struck by a certain one-sidedness in its development, having an im- portant bearing on its fitness for scientific investigation. With- in a certain domain, usually characterized as that of practical sagacity and good sense, they have nothing to be ashamed of. Where the conclusion is reached by a process so instinctive that it is not reduced to a logical form, and where there is no need of an analysis of first principles, we may not unfairly claim to be a nation of good reasoners. But, if we pursue any subject of investigation into a region where a higher or more exact form of reasoning is necessary, where first principles have to be analyzed, and a concatenation of results have to be kept in the mind, it must be admitted that we do not make a creditable showing. It might almost seem as if the dialectic faculty among us had decayed from want of use. The plain common-sense of the fairly intelligent citizen has in most cases so completely sufficed for all the purposes where judging capacity was required, that the need of more exact methods of thought has never been felt by the nation at large. There is hardly a branch of our intellectual activity in which the close and critical observer will not find plenty of illustra- tions of the peculiarity which we have described. Taking as our standard of comparison the three leading intellectual nations of Europe, England, France, and Germany, the latter alone can compete with us in provision for, and appreciation of, the education of the masses. But when we look at the higher education, whether that of the polished gentleman, the statesman, the engineer, or the financier, we find our- selves far behind those countries in both the provision and the 92 Ab8tract Science in America, 1T76 18T6. [Jan. appreciation. Our elementary text-books are as good as any. What few we have on the higher logic and the more advanced braiiches of mathematics are very deficient, and, in the case of th~ mathematical text-books, betray a lack of clear and accu- rate thought which would not be tolerated in a teacher in the other countries we have mentioned. If we examine our poli- tics and jurisprudence, the general astuteness of our public men, their faculty of adapting means to such ends as are im- mediately in view, and their successful diplomacy, cannot be questioned. But where in our legislation shall we find any effort to look beyond the necessities of the immediate present? What shall we say to the continued presence of usury laws in our statute-books, and to the rarity with which a man is found in public life with the logical acumen necessary to see through the fallacies of the protection theory? What a disheartening picture of our jurisprudence would be found in the mere cita- tion of the various legal decisions to which the legal-tender acts have given rise! This national one-sidedness of the judging faculty has a very important bearing on the state of science, because the success- ful cultivation of the higher regions of science, no matter in what department, requires the highest development of that faculty. Neither instinct nor good sense will alone suffice to comprehend the more recondite workings of natural law. It is true that a large majority of the more important applications of scientific principles may be made, and a great deal of valu- able scientific work may be done, without the highest develop- ment of the dialectic faculty. But such applications and such work do not constitute the highest employment of the scientific investigator. it is, therefore, very naturally to be expected that the development of the higher branches of science in our country should be marked by the same backwardness which characterizes the higher forms of thought in other directions; and that, however eminent we might stand in the lower branches, we should find ourselves far behind in the higher ones. The same subject may be viewed from a slightly different standpoint. No two sets of ideas are more completely antago- nistic than those which animate the so-called practical man 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 93 of our country, and those which animate the investigator in any field which deserves the name of science or philosophy. The facts that, in its methods and results, nothing is really more practical, in the best sense of the word, than modern science, and that it is to the discovery of natural laws by men of science that all the benefits which the practical man most highly values are due, do not in any way lessen this antago- nism of fundamental ideas. The first condition of really suc- cessful and important scientific investigation is, that men shall be found willing to devote much labor and careful thought to that subject from pure love of it, without having in view any practical benefit to be derived from it as an impor- tant consideration. The true scientist takes as much interest in the geography of the moon as in that of the earth, and studies the minutest animalcule as zealously as man himself. The very fact that utility is ostensibly ignored gives a breadth to scientific research which it would otherwise never have had, and to which the discoveries which have been of such incalcu- lable utility to mankind are really due. If the practical man should object to useless knowledge as dross, we should reply, that he cannot have the gold without the dross; that such a thing as a discoverer of useful natural laws and an ignorer of useless ones is unknown in the worlds history, and will prob- ably remain so. In fact, so far as the discovery of new laws is concerned, it is impossible to say whether a discovery will or will not be useful until after it is made, perhaps genera- tions afterward; therefore he who waits to see the utility before seeking for the discovery will never discover at all. The early settlers of our country, with whom the great prob- lem of life was to overcome in a hard struggle for existence, could not be expected to cultivate such a taste for science as we have described. To suppose that they would encourage and support any of their number in laborious investigation for the mere sake of knowing, would be to expect of them something more than human. Indeed, it would be almost a violation of natural law to expect the development of a trained investi- gator in such a state of society. It is therefore very gratifying that American science can point to so worthy a man as Ben- jamin Franklin as its father. Commencing as it did with so 94 Abstract Science in America, 17T6 18T6. [Jan. capital a discovery as that of the identity of lightning and electricity, it might almost have seemed to come into life full grown; and if Franklin had had coadjutors and successors comparable to himself, it might have soon been in a position to compete with the science of Europe. When we seek for such successors as he had and compare their circumstances with those under which rapid advances have been made in a knowl- edge of natural laws, we shafl see one reason why the growth of the tree planted by Franklin was so slow and stunted. One of the first things which will strike us in the history of modern scientific investigation is that such investigation is seldom pursued with any great success by isolated men. We do not here speak of the work of those rare characters who may be said to take advantage of some favorable epoch in the progress of thought, such as Copernicus, Newton, and Linna~us, but of that gradual working out and developing of ideas which constitute the great body of scientific doctrine. Men like those we have named might arise in any age which should be ready for them, but, so thoroughly is every field now explored and reduced to technical forms, that we can see no further oppor- tunity for isolated genius to work out radically new ideas. The immense advance which has been made since the time of Newton has been effected almost entirely by men working together in close associations. The mutual attrition of ideas, the competition of rival workers, the zest gained by intercourse with kindred spirits, though of a lower order of genius, are all most important factors in such advance. We thus find that the formation of the Royal Society of London, and of the Academy of Science in France, marks the epoch of the revival of science in Europe. During the two centuries which have since elapsed, the history of these associations has been almost identical with that of the knowledge of nature in their respec- tive countries. From the time of Franklin the progress of American science depended very largely upon the success with which close as- sociation could be maintained among men of learning. He made an excellent beginning in the establishment of the Phil- osophical Society. Among the early members of this society the only name at all eminent in the field of science, besides 1876.] Aletract Science in America, 17761876. 95 that of Franklin, which has descended to us, is that of Ritten- house. The latter had not, any more than his great contempo- rary, the advantages of a thorough educational training, much of his youth having been spent in agricultural labor. Still, his circumstances were not such as to debar him from intellectual pursuits, and he made himself as complete a master of the physical science of his times as was possible to one so situated. Among his fellow-citizens much of his reputation was due to his clocks and orreries; but it is his skill as a practical astron- omer which has carried his name down to posterity. Having no public observatory,.occupying no position which made it part of his duty to devote himself to science, supporting himself by his own resources, and working principally with instruments of his own construction, it is not to be expected that his work would compare in extent with that of a more favored astronomer. But, in general precision, the first requisite of astronomical observa- tion, his work was well up to the average of his time. His observations of the celebrated transit of Venus in 1769 have every appearance of being among the best that were made, the care and skill devoted to them being as great as elsewhere, while the meteorological conditions wete unusually favorable. It is remarkable that his observations were continued through at least the first half of the Revolutionary War. That the early days of the Republic should prove unfavor- able to the thorough prosecution of philosophical research of any kind was to be expected. The mind of the nation was too much occupied with the more pressing necessities of the situa- tion to admit of any great activity in a direction not leading to immediate practical results. Still, some circumstances show that the intellectual spirit of the nation was not at all dimin- ished by the terrible struggle through which it had passed. In 1783 the Legislature of Pennsylvania made a grant to the Philosophical Society of four hundred dollars,a mark of official appreciation which we doubt whether such a body has since re- c~ived either from the general government or from that of any State. Within ten years of the acknowledgment of American Independence the same society erected for its own use what, from the point of view of that time, was a neat, convenient, and spacious edifice. Few, indeed, are the scientific societies 96 Ab8tract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. in this country which have been able to do as much. The public appreciation of Rittenhouse was shown by the numerous public employments which were almost forced upon him, which, as iu the case of F~ranklin, deprived him of the time necessary for scientific research. If, from such a cause as public appreciation, Franklin and. IRittenhouse were in a certain sense lost to science, we shall fin4 it difficult to believe that the development of American science would thereby be retarded. The natural result would seem to be that many of the rising generation would have been incited to emulate them in their career. The spirit we have described was eminently favorable to such a result. Most as- tonishing is it then to find that, far from any such progressive development as would have beeu looked for, far even from science in what was then its principal centre remaining station- ary, the tree planted by the two men we have named not only bore no fruit, but absolutely withered away. For half a century there was nothing worthy of the name of national science, nothing on which the public could look, and say with pride that it was a product of our educational system or of our effort to promote the knowledge of nature. Two or three men of genius arose, but they received no stimulus to exertion from the public, or, if they did, their works betray the want of attri- tion with other men of like pursuits able to criticise them. A suggestive circumstance is, that they were in the main self-taught. During the interval of which we speak the scienc~s the culti- vation of which would have seemed mosf natural in this country received no more lasting impress from American investigation than did others. The flora and fauna of the new country must have offered a field of research tempting to the scientific taste and remunerative in a practical point of view. That it was wholly uncultivated it would be incorrect to assert, but none of its cultivators did anything to leave a permanent impress on science. Not only did no creative genius show itself among. them, but it is questionable whether any of them were as much abreast of the European science of the time as were Franklin and Rittenhouse. That our country should have produced no Lavoisier, Cuvier, or Jussien is something which . cannot greatly surprise us, but why should we not have had plenty to adopt, 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 97 to criticise, or to develop their ideas? If we knew exactly how long it took the new systems of classification to supersede that of Linn~us throughout our country, the knowledge would have much historical interest, but would not, we fear, be at all provocative of national pride. The fact is that our science was little more than a timid commentary on European science, in which certain models, supposed to be standards, were followed in the same way that the schoolmen of the Middle Ages fol- lowed the philosophy of Aristotle. The thorough investigation of the cause of this period of apparent intellectual darkness would require us to enter into the spirit and the history of the times to an extent possible only to the professional historian. Yet some consideration of the state of things indicated by it may not be out of place. To insure the successful cultivation of science in a country two things are necessary; the cultivators must be born, and they must be nurtured. In the case of those rare characters of whom a country hardly produces more than one a century, the nurture may enter as a very small element, and may there- fore be of a very imperfect kind; still it must enter in some form. To expect that the greatest genius, if kept until mid- dle age in the backwoods, away from both books and living teachers, would ever produce anything great in the way of technical scientific research, would be hopeless. We may find in the general state of public opinion during the period of which we speak a reason why men of pure research were not nurtured. But may there not also be something in our country unfavorable even to the birth of men of the highest scientific genius? Or, taking into account the one-sidedness in the gen- eral development of the American intellect which we have endeavored to describe, may it not be that the analytical power which traces the laws of nature through the complex conditions under which they operate is partially replaced by the inventive genius which has taken the lead in giving the world steam- navigation, the telegraph, and the sewing-machine? If a wide diffusion of the power in question were necessary to our being a scientific nation, we might have to admit that such has been the case with us. But, since the requisite number of philo- sophic investigators is, in any case, very small, the fact that VOL. cxxii. NO. 250. 7 98 Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. the general mind of the nation may not be inclined in the scientific direction does not preclude the possibility of this small number of inquirers being born. The question of the influence of race and descent is largely involved in the one we are considering. If we consider the views of hereditary genius maintained by Mr. Galton to be cor- rect in the case of the genius of the scientific investigator, we must consider the descent of the American nation to be un- favorable to the production of. such genius. The class~ of phi- losophers and men of science has not been fairly represented, even in proportion to its small numbers, among the emigrants who have come over to our shores. The necessary result is that, as compared with the intellectual nations of Europe, a dis- proportionately small part of our population can count philos- ophers and investigators among their ancestors. But, however true the theory of hereditary descent may be, when we consider that general force of character which makes a man felt among his fellows, the preponderance of evidence is decidedly against its extension to scientific genius. The latter, though confined to a single race, seems to be almost entirely spo- radic. In a few cases it may be traced from father to son; we question whether it has ever been traced further. It seems as if whatever peculiarity of organization it may be connected with is of too slight a character to be either perpetuated or in- sured against among the offspring of intelligent people. There is nothing about its possessors which causes them to strike the minds of others. In their appetites and their organiza- tions, and indeed in everything outside the sphere of accurate thought, they are a sufficiently commonplace class. Altogether there is no sound reason for believing that the class in ques- tion is born in any smaller proportion here than in other intel- lectual natioAs, and whatever apparent deficiencies we may find are probably due to defects of nurture. Returning to the consideration of American science between 1790 and 1840, we find some confirmation of the views we have expressed in the fact that during this period we find several American names of the first rank so far as regards mental power, who, if they have failed to fill a position corresponding to their genius, have done so only in consequence of the circumstances by which they were surrounded. 1876.] Ab8tract Science in America, 1776 1876. 99 As representatives of the small class of which we are speak- ing, we may take Bowditch, Bache, and Henry, of whom it is~ remarkable that not one received a college education. Not- withstanding the singularly unfavorable occupations of his early days, there was hardly a man living who was a more complete master of the celestial mechanics of his time than was Bowditch. When we consider that he acquired this mastery by his unaided efforts, from pure love of the subject, while engaged in mercantile business or seafaring pursuits, we can hardly refuse him, in genius, a place alongside of Laplace and Hansen. But he was never stimulated by the attrition of kindred minds, as he would have been at Paris or Berlin, and, in consequence, his original investigations in no way cor- respond to what we might have expected from him had he been born in Europe. It may be that his best work was done in stimulating the study of the higher mathematics among his countrymen. The work for which he will always be best knowii is his translation of the M6canique C6leste of La- place, and it is by its effect in this direction that it must be judged. As a monument of industry, and a proof of Bow- ditchs mastery of the subject, this work cannot he surpassed. To adding anything to the subject it made no claims, its object being mainly an educational one. Its most remarkable feature was a minute and detailed commentary, in which every difficult operation was explained, and by which a student would be able to follow the reasoning of the author, without any higher mathematical knowledge than the imperfect native text-book8 of the time would afford him. This commentary had undoubt- edly the effect of enabling many to read the work who would not otherwise have found themselves able to do so; yet we can- not concede that this was the most advantageous form in which the help could have been given. No one who could not read Laplace without tho Commentary would derive any real profit from reading him by its aid, while he might derive profit by studying more elementary subjects. It was like furnishing a classical author w-ith an interlinear translation, that the un- favored student might read him without studying the grammar. of his language. This ~ommentary, as well as some other of l3owditchs writings, betrays the want of that inspiration which 100 Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. comes from immediate contact with the masters of the subject. Could he, in youth, have spent but a single year in the drill of a European university, the effect would have been seen in all that he did. It is strikingly illustrative of the absence of everything like an effective national pride in science that two generations should have passed without America having produced any one to continue the philosophical researches of Franklin. The natural effect of the success of such a man, in such a direction, ought to have been that studies a n4 experiments in electricity would have had an especial interest or his countrymen of the next generation, and that electricity would thus have become, in some measure, a national subject of research. But not the slightest trace of such an effort showed itself. Until Henry commenced his experiments, there was not an electrical in- vestigation published in the country which the present time has any object in remembering. As with American scientists in general, Henrys published investigations do not give an adequate idea either of his skill or of the amount of research he actually undertook, without any of those surrounding cir- cumstances which, in other countries, stimulate men to re- search. Had he been in the situation of Faraday, he might have gained the same name. If he, lacked any of Faradays skill in designing experiments, he would have made it up in accurate grasp of the hypotheses which the experiment was to prove or disprove. His discovery of some of the laws of elec- tricity, which made the Morse telegraph possible, is well known, though, as usual, popular attention was entirely con- centrated upon the inventor who put the laws into practice, while the discoverer was nearly forgotten. Whatever he might have done in the field of original research, his activity in that direction necessarily diminished greatly when he took an administrative position, in which his functions were to stimulate others. The career of Bache was not unlike that of Henry. He was less self-taught than either of the other representative men we have named, being a graduate of West Point. Like most of the great representatives cif American science, the activity of his early years in scientific research was directed 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 101 into a different channel by the position he occupied during his later years. The conduct of a series of physical experiments requires an amount of careful, leisurely thought, which it is quite impossible for one filling the position of Superintendent of the Coast Survey to devote to them. From what we have said of the history and labors of the principal distinguished representatives of American science, it will be seen that the comparatively imperfect development of our thought in the direction of science is not due to any lack of native ability. However averse to the precision of scientific thought the general mind of the nation may be, it produces a sufficient number of great minds to satisfy the needs of its intellectual position. But we see very clearly a great lack of continuity of work among our leading scientific men. Few, indeed, are the American investigators who have followed up their subject during their whole lives, working it out from step to step, as Europeans have done. Sometimes their failure has arisen from lack of persistence, experience showing that suc- cess would be accompanied by no reward proportionate to the labor bestowed, but more often from the less elevated but more pressing duties of life rendering it impossible to devote the necessary thought to the pursuit of r~esearch. Even when the duties are those of a professors chair, in which research would seem the most appropriate employment of leisure hours, it has commonly happened that the duties of the position absorbed the entire energies of the occupant. The science of which we have thus far sought to give a clean idea may be said to stand entirely on its own merits as apart of the intellectual life of the nation. Its laborers were men who engaged in it from pure love of the subject, proceeded in much their own way, and ceased when circumstances diverted their energies into other channels. But in no civilized coun- try is it thus left to stand entirely alone; for although a gov- eminent may do nothing especially looking to the promotion of pure science, there are so many important applications of scientific principles necessary to the public welfare, that some regard must be paid to applied science. And it is soon found impossible td make a really useful application of science, without such a thorough investigation of the subject in hand 102 Ab8tract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. that the progress of pure science will thereby be promoted. A complete idea of the progress of our national science can- not therefore be formed, without considering its relations to our government, and the measures the latter has taken in pro- moting it. The leading governments of Europe have generally taken a pride in promoting scientific knowledge, and it was to the ef- forts thus arising that we may trace the scientific revival of the seventeenth century, which in its progress has exerted so im- portant an influence on our civilization. In the beginning no merely utilitarian end was in view. Monarchs like Louis XIV. and Frederic the Great were desirous of having their reigns rendered illustrious by being connected with the pro- gress of intellectual activity, of all kinds, and so sought to surround themselves with men of eminent reputation. Thus arose or flourished the academies of science of the principal European capitals. The general policy with respect to these bodies has not greatly varied. The members generally re- ceive a small pension or other stipend from their government, not to support them, but to secure them against absolute penury under all circumstances. The most important aid fur- nished by the government comes in the shape of the means of making and publishing researches. In return the academy is the adviser of the government in all matters pertainiiig to the application of science in its administration. Of course there are some differences of detail in the organi- zation of these bodies, and in England the difference is so wide that that country cannot be said to have an academy of scien- ces, in the Continental sense of the phrase. The place of such a body is partially filled by the Royal Society, but the govern- ment does not in any way contribute to the support of this Lociety, and does not even assist it in printing its Transactions. Still, its influence with government is not materially different from that of the Continental academies, since, although not formally recognized as an official adviser, it is as constantly consulted as if it were so recognized. So far as we are aware, there has been but a single occasion in its history in which our government has felt the want of ~ scientific advisory body. If we were to say that it is one of 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 103 the fundamental doctrines of our nation and government, that one intelligent and influential citizen can do anything and everything as well as another, we should be liable to the charge of strong overstatement. But it would be equally untrue to as- sert that the opposite doctrine was maintained and acted upon. The fact that there are any operations, the conduct of which requires special skill and special training, is one which our administrators generally are very slow to recognize, unless compelled by the force of circumstances. No doubt this is fun- damentally due to the general versatility and adaptability of the average American, which in the large majority of cases take the place of skill and special training with entire success. It is therefore not surprising that the government has seldom felt the need of the advice of specialists in matters pertaining to administration, even in those cases where entire success would have seemed to require the aid of the highest scientific knowledge. We have said that there was one exception to this. When the civil war broke out the government was overwhelmed with inventions of improved machinery of war, the practicability of which could not be judged without the aid of scientific experts. A board of such experts was therefore formed for their prelim- inary examination. This suggested the idea of a permanent academy, which should examine and report upon any subject of science or art, whenever called upon to do so by any depart- ment of the government, and thus arose the National Academy of Sciences, which was chartered by a~ of Congress iii 1863. The future success of this body cannot yet be foreseen, but it has met with several drawbacks in the past. In the first place, although ostensibly organized to perform the functions of an European academy, this object was wholly ignored in its organization. The first condition of such performance is that the members should rpside at or near the capital, and that the body should hold frequent meetings. But the members actu- ally incorporated were scattered all over the country, so that more than one or two meetings a year were out of the ques- tion. In view of this fact, the question whether, in selecting the members, scientific eminence was the controlling considera- tion, is hardly worth discussing. In the next place, the charter 104 Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. contained an absurd provision which prevented the Academy receiving support or remuneration of any kind from the gov- ernment in return for its services. We say absurd, because the very first condition of the usefulness of the body was thereby violated. What should we think of Congress charter- ing an academy of law, with the fundamental condition that the members should give their legal services, without compen- sation, to all departments of the government, in any law-suits in which the latter might be involved? To appreciate the sit- uation, we must remember that the Academy receives no sup- port of any kind, direct or indirect, from the government. If the latter furnished it with a room for its meetings, its offices, or its collections; if it paid the expenses of members attending its meetings; if it printed or circulated the scientific papers read before and accepted by the society, or helped to do so, the case would not be so bad. One year the printing of these papers was commenced at the government printing-office, but it was stopped, on the ground that the printing was in violation of the condition on which the Academy was founded, because it cost the government money. The general result is, that the contrast between the eminent name of the Academy and the celebrity of its members on the one hand, and its means of doing either harm or~ good on the other, is ridiculous in a de- gree of which the members themselves can hardly help being conscious. It is too suggestive of eminent respectability out at the elbows. We have had a recei4 example of the entire absence of all necessity for scientific advice in the administration of the government in the origin of the system of weather reports and probabilities by the Army Signal Office. Jn importance and extent the meteorological system organized by this office has no parallel in the world. Its cost is in the same proportion, far exceeding anything that any European nation ever thought of devoting to such a purpose. Had so magnificent a project, involving such an expenditure, been presented to any other government strong enough to undertake the matter, the first idea suggested would have been that the opinion of the highest scientific authorities on the practicability and importance of the project must be obtained before putting it into execution. 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 105 The support and approval of competent meteorologists would have been absolutely necessary, in order to secure the sanction of the government. Yet, so far as the public is aware, not a solitary scientific authority or meteorological expert was ever officially asked either to report upon the scheme or to give advice respecting its execution. The sole responsibility rests with the single military officer who conceived and executed it, and he receives the sole official credit forit. We wish the reader to consider this fact both in its favorable and unfavorable aspects. We see it in the latter aspect when we consider how completely the men whose studies and researches rendered the prediction of the course of storms possible have been ignored or forgotten when their labors were to be made practically useful. Several of the most able and active of these men were Americans, a few of whom are still ~living. The favorable side is clear enough, and we have no desire to depreciate the organizing ability shown by the chief signal officer in putting the system into execution, or the liber- ality shown by Congress in sustaining it. The most important relations of the government to science have been those growing out of the public works of the former, and especially the public surveys which it has undertaken. One of its earliest wants in this direction was that of a thor- ough survey of its coasts and harbors, and we find measures to supply this want undertaken early in the present century. The execution of the plan was, however, postponed and inter- fered with by various causes, which prev~nted its being ear- nestly undertaken until 1832. The scientific conduct of this work has been excellent from the very beginning, a result which is due to the competent hands by which it was organ- ized. Its first superintendent, Mr. Hassler, was a thorough student and an experienced geodesist, who brought to the work the highest ideas of system and accuracy, but did not possess the faculty of securing the good-will of Congress. Under the administration of his successor, the lamented Bache, it became the most perfectly organized survey in the world, employing the most improved methods, and leading to the most accurate results. Among the methods which it took an active part in originating, the most important is that of the determination of 106 Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. longitudes by telegraph, a method which has been almost revolutionary in its results. By it a chain of longitudes now extends from San Francisco across the American continent, the Atlantic Ocean, Europe, and Asia, to the Pacific coast of Siberia, with a degree of certainty which would not have been attained in a century by any other method. Another system of surveys by which the government indi- rectly contributes to advance the study of science is that of the Territories. When we consider the extent of these Territories, their unknown mineral wealth, their possible capabilities for the support of population and the remuneration of industry, and th~ necessity of an accurate knowledge of their geography and geology as a preliminary to the development of their re- sources, it will not appear surprising if increasing attention is devoted t~ geographical and geological surveys. The charac- ter of these surveys has corresponded pretty closely to the sci- entific development of the country at the time they were made, and a critical examination of them is sufficient to show the futility of the idea that pure and applied science can be suc- cessfully divorced. The earlier ones were simple land sur- veys, the object of which was to divide the region over which they extended into townships of ten miles square. The Land Office being unable to command the skill necessary to do this properly, geometry was painfully mangled by the unavail- ing efforts of the government surveyors. If we examine the Laud Office maps, we shall find here and there lines running awry to the extent of five, or even ten degrees. As a general rule, however, we shall find a gradual improvement extending through the last forty years. The necessity of passing public criticism results in a constant effort on the part of each survey to command the services of competent geologists, topographers, and astronomers; and this, again, encourages young men to train themselves for such positions. The rivalry between two competing departments of the government for the control of the survey of the Territories however greatly to be deplored for some of its results has exerted a good effect in stimu- lating each party to do the best work; and, on the whole, the general execution of these surveys is as good as could be ex- pected under our administrative system. 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 107 We have described and illustrated the generally low state of American science during the first forty years of the present century, a state which may be described as one of general lethargy, broken now and then by the activity of some first- class man, which, however, commonly ceased to be directed into purely scientific channels. Since 1840 there has been a great and general increase of activity in some directions, which, from some points of view, would seem to have inau- gurated an entirely new state of things, and to promise well for the future. But there are alao many features of the case which strongly suggest the backward state of things from which the present condition sprung, so that the old and the new can be traced side by side. On the side of biology, a considerable share of recent devel- opment can be traced to the advent of Agassiz among us. The eclat of his European reputation evoked immediately on his arrival an amount of public attention and consideration which a native would have been a long time in commandino while his remarkable power as a teacher turned the thoughts of many young-men toward his favorite subject. Nor must his powers as a public lecturer be ignored. It is hard to calculate the effect which he produced on the public mind in this way, extending as it does far beyond the limits to which his imme- diate personal intercourse was confined. What Agassiz did in biology was done by Mitchel in astron- omy. All that he lacked in purely scientific ability and repu- tation was made up by his unrivalled power of charming the public by his descriptions of astronomical phenomena. If his name lacked. the flavor of foreign birth and eminence, the defect was compensated by the interest and elevation of his subject, which was peculiarly fitted to interest both the highest and lowest class of intelligent hearers. It is not unlikely that he sowed much of the seed from which the American astron- omy of the present has developed. If we consider simply the appliances for astronomical re- search, and the number of persons in some way engaged in such research, the development of our astronomy during the present generation is something surprising. In 1832 Professor Airy made a report on the progress and present state of astron 108 Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. omy to the British Association for the Advancement of Science, in which he had to announce his inability to give any account of practical astronomy in America, because he did not know Qf a single active observatory in that country. In the beginning of 1840 there was not an observatory in the country which, in the completeness of its equipment, could claim to be greatly in advance of the private collection of instruments made by Rittenhouse sixty years before. The interest in astronomy taken by a few officers of the navy, the stimulus of the great comet of 1843, and the wide public interest in the sub,ject which has in one way and another been excited, have altogether resulted in the building and partial or entire equipment of a far greater number of observatories than, with the, limited funds at disposal, can be kept in operation. Highly as we must esti- mate the large views and public spirit which have prompted the erection of these establishments, we cannot but deplore the lack of sound knowledge which has resulted in such a waste of valuable means. If all the money thus spent in scattered efforts had been concentrated on two or three large establish- ments, it would have gone far toward making our country the foremost of the world in the science of astronomy. The recent extraordinary progress to which we allude is not confined to special sciences, but may be said to include all the matertal facilities for the prosecution of research of every kind, as we~ as for the acquisition of a thorough scientific education. Our important chemical laboratories and our best scientific schools, with perhaps a single exception, are of an origin as recent as that of our observatories. If we study our museums and laboratories, and notice the activity manifested by the for- mer in collecting everything which may illustrate the biology, ethnology, and arch~ology of this continent, and by the latter in the instruction of the young, we see the strong side of our science, the side on which we can look with unqualified satis- faction. If w~ feel any regret or humiliation on the reflection that it is not the growth of a century, and that during the greater part of our national existence we had nothing of the kind to show, the present can take to itself all the greater credit for having produced everything, while the rapid advance implied will render us all the more hopeful of the future. 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 109 Still confining our attention to the side thus preseiated, and considering the national energy which has been expended in its development, we might fancy ourselves rapidly approaching N the day when we shall be the leading scientific nation of the world. But when we tprn from the material side to the side of ideas, when, instead of observatories, telescopes, laboratories, muse- ums, explorers, we consider the progress of the literature and thought of science, the contrast is painfully astonishing. Far from seeing an advance corresponding to that of the material side, much industry and pains would be required to trace any great improvement. If we were to draw our illustrations of this entirely from the exact sciences, in which mathematics is the leading instrument of research, the comparison might not be considered entirely fair. Let us then take a subject within the capacity of every thoughtful mind. No movement in modern thought has been so revolutionary in itself, or so fertile in its results, as that which has been wrought by Darwinism. Prob- ably as much interest has been excited in this country by this subject as in any other. The doctrine has made its way among our naturalists as it has among those of England and Germany, and its literature has probably as many readers here as in Eng~ land. What, then, have been our contributions to this litera- ture? We know of but three or four American writers who have contributed anything at all; two of them, Chauncey Wright and John Fiske, having done so in this Review. Except the Cosmic Philosophy~ of the latter, which em- braces an extended review of a subject of which Darwinism is one of the most important parts, not a single independent work on the subject has yet been produced on this side the Atlantic. Of essays and reviews in periodicals, far the larger part have been the production of Mr. Wright and Professor Asa Gray. Its opposers on scientific grounds have been Pro- fessors Agassiz and Bowen, the latter having considered it as the latest Form of the Development Theory, in the Memoirs of the American Academy. We believe this to be a complete list of important American contributors to the scientific thought of the subject, purely technical investigation of facts in natural history being omitted. 110 Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. In this connection it may not be amiss to remind the reader that arguments designed to prove that Darwinism either is or is not subversive of religious belief, or to attack or defend it on religious grounds, cannot be regarded as contributions to the science of the subject; but that a work designed to prove on purely scientific grounds that the doctrine is untenable would not, on account of the side it espoused, be excluded. In liter- ature of the former class it is not impossible that we might be able to make some showing. When we compare the quantity of our literature of Darwin- ism with that of Germany, the contrast is astonishing. Not a year elapses in which the German press does not turn out a more extended philosophic literature of the subject than the American press can show during the sixteen years which have elapsed since the publication of the ~ Origin of Species. Turning from this discouragingly small quantity we may find relief and hope in considering the quality of our contributions. In philosophic comprehension, scientific accuracy, and clear~ ness of thought, the essays of Wright and of Gray might well head the list in a competition among those of all nations What we have said of the literature of Darwinism is true of that of every branch of pure science. Not only is our scien- tific literature of every kind meagre in the extreme, but the facilities for the publication of any kind are extremely re- stricted, and have increased but little during the last fifty years. Sillimans Journal is now, as it was half a century ago, the solitary standard journal of pure science published in the country. There has been no increase in the means or the publication of our learned societies at all proportionate to the increase in the material facilities for research. How can we account for this? Why should not the vast increase in the means of research have beeii accompanied by a corresponding increase in scientific publications and discussions? The an- swers to these questions depend on a variety of circumstances, some of which are connected with the general state of scientific thought here, while others can be brought out only by a com- parison of our resources for publication with those of other countries. In other intellectual countries a large portion of the published 1876.] Ab8tract Science in America, 1776 1876. 111 scientific research appears in the transactions of learned so- cieties. A comparison of the means at the disposal of our societies and those of other nations will at once explain a part of the difference. On the Continent the learned societies are under the immediate patronage of their respective governments, by which the expense of publishing their transactions is borne. In this country we are aware of but a single State which has thus taken upon itself the patronage of science, and it will prob- ably surprise many readers to hear that this is Wisconsin. It is not impossible that there are other States which have done the same thing, but, if so, we have not become aware of the fact. Deprived of State aid, our societies must depend upon their limited resources for the means of publication. The meagre- ness of these resources is in most cases extremely surprising when we take into consideration the wide-spread interest in science, and the ease with which associations of all sorts, except the scientific, can raise money to promote their ends. Sums are invested in a single horse or yacht race which all the scien- tific societies of the country could not collect in a year. There are probably not more than three or four of these societies whose entire annual income would furnish the stakes for which a pair of first-class pugilists ordinarily fight; we are not sure but that it would be an over-statement to assert that there is a single one so rich. It must be admitted that there are points of view from which our claims to be an intellectual nation look very slender indeed. We cannot but hope that the subject of aiding learned societies to publish their researches will receive more attention from our State governments in future. And we may here remark, that the more enlightened foreign govern- ments do not confine their assistance to such societies; but also, to some extent, patronize journals of abstract science which are published by individuals. There is perhaps no one agency which has, during the last half-century, contributed so much to the advance of mathematical science in Europe as the mathematical journal established by Crelle in Berlin. Yet it could hardly have been continued, but for the support given it by the Prussian authorities. Were we to inquire closely why our State and general gov 112 Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. ernments have been less effectively active in the promotion of science than those of other countries, we should probably find it to be, not because there was any less disposition to be liberal in this direction, but because there is so little general under- standing of the needs of science, and of its relations to the public welfare. This again may be partly due to the compar- atively wide separation which exists between the political and business classes of our community on the one side, and the literary and scientific classes on the other. It is decidedly rarer in this country to see a man actively engaged in public life taking an active interest in the progress of science than it is abroad. In England many of the leading men of the nation are fellows of the Royal Society, attend its social if not its scientific meetings, and take an interest in its general welfare. Here, science is considered as forming a sort of priesthood, into whose mysterious circle a politician would hardly more think of penetrating than he would of ascending the pulpit. The only exception is seen in the reunions of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, a large and popular body, which are frequently attended by public men residing near a place of meeting. If there really were such a priesthood of men of science, if we could show an influential body of men earnestly working together in the pursuit of a definite object, the case would be much better than it is. A united body of men, possessed of the general ability of our scientists, and working earnestly to- gether, could not fail to make itself felt. In fact, however, we do not find in our country, within scientific circles or outside of them, a collective body or class of men taking such a deep interest in American science for its own sake as the great body of intellectual men in other lands take in the science of their respective countries. Individuals who take such an interest are numerous enough, but hitherto they have been mere isolated, inactive men, too much scattered to act in concert in any way. When we look abroad into other intellectual countries, we find the case to be entirely different. In France, in England, and in Germany there are bodies of men possessed of social, political, and money-raising power who take pride in the intellectual progress of their respective countries, and, by their united ac 1876.] Ab8tract Science in America, 1776 1876. 113 tion, exert a powerful influence in inciting scientific investiga- tors. One or two illustrations of the wide difference between our own country and England in this regard will make our meaning clearer than pages of general description. In the latter coun- try one of the functions of scientific societies, and indeed the function in the performance of which the widest interest is taken, is that of furnishing information respecting the progress of science, and the labors of scientific investigators. A par- donable patriotism, accompanied by a desire to please their hearers, results in the speakers or writers on such occasions dwelling principally on the labors of their fellow-countrymen. The one-sidedness of these addresses or reports not unfrequently calls down severe criticism from foreigners, on account of ex- travagant claims made for English science; but a sufficient answer to such criticisms is found in the fact that the utter- ances complained of are intended for audiences purely English, met to congratulate each other on the progress of English science, as well as of science in general. A German would be ashamed to avow any such bias toward the labors of his own countrymen. In describing the progress of knowledge he is careful to divide the credit among those to whom it is due, regardless of nationality, desirous that no one should be able to infer the country of its origin from the names of those whose labors he describes. In America there is no authority and no publication to which the public can look for authoritative information of this kind. It has always been the duty of the retiring president of the American Association for the Advancement of Science to make an address, but it has not generally been devoted to a review of scientific progress, either in America or elsewhere. An ex- ception was however made at the Hartford meeting in 1874, when the officer in question delivered an extremely well-writ- ten essay on the progress of physical science in recent times. But, instead of being biassed after the English fashion, or im- partial after the German, he carefully avoided all mention of the labors and researches of his countrymen. A hearer would have inferred that there was absolutely no such thing as Amer- ican science. Some of his subjects, such as sound, the velocity of electricity, spectrum analysis, and astronomical research VOL. CXXII. NO. 250. 8 114 Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. counted Americans among their most successful cultivators, yet they were entirely ignored. If they were few in number and not so well known here as abroad, there was so much the more reason for giving prominence to their works. Such an address before the sister society of Great Britain would have been impossible, from a wholesome fear on the part of the speaker of being mobbed by the newspapers, if from no other reason. The point which we have in view, as illustrative of the great- est drawback with which our science has had to contend,~is not, however, the delivery of the address, but its reception by the press and the public. The literary merits of the pro- duction were such as to secure for it a wide circulation, and some favorable comment from the press, but not the slightest notice of the way in which American science was ignored was taken in any quarter whatever. Not a voice inquired whether science was entirely a European production. Among the lis- teners and the readers the logical conclusion that our couiitry had not during its whole history produced anything worth notice was accepted as too much a matter of course to excite even a passing thought. A striking example of energy and enterprise is found in the fact that it has been reserved for the American Coast Survey to make the latest and best determination of the difference of longitude between the two oldest of the great observatories of Europe, those of Greenwich and Paris. This determination was a mere incidental result of the determination of the Trans- atlantic longitude, but is not on that account the less important. Two determinations of the longitude across the Atlantic, the one from Greenwich and the other from Paris, were found to he discordant, and when the third side of the triangle, Green- wich-Paris, was measured, it was found that the discordance was due to the error of the former measurements of that side. In other words, the longitude of Paris found by telegraphing across the Atlantic from Greenwich, and then back again to Paris, was more accurate than that ~which had been formerly found by telegraphing directly between the two cities. Now, let us turn the shield round and look on the other side. The combined skill and diplomacy which rendered the project suc- cessfulfor one can readily conceive that a little diplomacy was 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 115 necessary in such an affair have never received the smallest recognition from our public. When the men who did the work lauded on their return home, there was no committee to receive them, as there would have been had they been successful shooters; not even the most enterprising reporter found them out. There has never been a trace of the unseemly national glorification in which it is sometimes supposed that our countrymen are wont to indulge. The history and results of the expedition are duly immured in the proper official volumes, but have never made their way out of them, into the public prints, except, possibly, into the fine type of a Tribune extra. The number of people who ever heard of the work are too small to constitute a public, and the number who still remem- ber it are yet smaller. We must not conclude from all this that no interest in science is taken by the American people,, but only that that interest does not manifest itself in such a way as to promote scientific research. The great success of several popular scien- tific publications, especially of the cheap ones issued by the New York Tribune, shows that there must be a large body of readers who eagerly buy that class of literature. It would be of interest to know precisely among what classes of the com- munity these readers are divided. Taken in connection with the absence of interest in the subject shown by men in active life, there is some reason to suppose that the classes in ques- tion would be found, for the most pavt, to be neither the influ- ential nor the best educated. If the statistics of the subject were attainable, it would perhaps be found that the amount of intelligence best calculated to lead men to seek after knowl- edge in this direction corresponded to that necessary to excite the sentiment of wonder. The entirely ignorant necessarily care nothing for, the subject, while the most highly educated have been so familiar with it, at least in some of its aspects, that it has not for them the charm of novelty. Between these two classes we can easily conceive of one to whom the discov- eries of the chemist and the astronomer, when stated in untech- nical language, read something like a fairy-tale. The drawbacks to the advance of science which we have de- scribed are the same as those which everywhere in our nation 116 Abstract Science in America, 17761876. [Jan. have impeded the development of the highest types of thought. Our national thoughtlies very much on a dead level; its lowest forms are much above those of other countries, its highest below them. While the small tradesman of England is, in breadth of views, far behind the small tradesman of America, the men who aspire to the leadership of public opinion, taken as a class, diverge in the opposite way. It is no~ only in phys- ical science we see this, but in the general application of scien- tific methods to the affairs of life. Here, as elsewhere, so long as only plain common-sense is required, we find ourselves well in advance, while we are further behindhand the further we look into questions requiring a higher form of reasoning. There are few applications of scientific method which have been of more lasting benefit to mankind than the modern polit- ical economy, and none which have done so much to diffuse American ideas of government and society. It would have been both pleasing and appropriate to have seen it a product of American thought. But, far from anything like this being the case, it is doubtful whether we can claim that an important contribution to it has ever been made on this side the Atlantic. We have a number of elementary treatises on the subject, some of them of a very excellent kind, but none of them make any pretensions to being original contributions to the knowledge of the subject. Our only writer who has ever created even a ripple on the surface of economical thought is Mr. Carey, and his methods and results are so different from those by which the science has been developed, that it is difficult to give him a place among the economists. Such a place can be fairly assigned him only by confining ourselves to the subject-matter of his researches, and ignoring his methods as unimportant. The proportion of our readers whose opinions of his system are not fully formed is so small, that a detailed criticism of that system would be of little account here, if it were not entirely out of place. We mention him because our choice lies between taking him as the great representative of Ameri- can political economy, or admitting that we have no system of political economy to call our own. As a result of our survey, it will be seen that we must form very different estimates both of the past and future of AmerP 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 117 can science, according to the standard we test it by, and the standpoint from which we view it. When we inquire into the wealth and power of our scientific organizations, and the ex- tent of their publications, when, in fact, we consider mere- ly the gross quantity of original published research, we see our science in the aspect best fitted to make us contemplate the past with humility and the future with despair. But when we consider quality as well as quantity, we may begin to take courage, for we find that the proportion of valueless or unimportant matter is far less than abroad. A study of the case will show that this arises from the same cause to which the small amount of original research is due, namely, the fact that the rewards of real eminence are less here than abroad. The necessary result is, that Nature is studied more for her own sake here than elsewhere, and that there is less competi- tion among men who are striving for mere position or popular reputation. To whatever extent the .deficiency of such rewards may deter first-class men from original investigation, it acts much more strongly against second-class men, and thus im- proves the average quality of our science. If, again, we con- sider the intellectual energy shown by oui~ ablest men, and, we might almost say, the national energy with which science has been pursued in certain directions during the last thirty years, it might seem entirely feasible to make our country the leader of the world in science at no very remote day. What are the conditions of such a consummation, and what are the pros- pects of those conditions being fulfilled? Our scientific forces present somewhat of the aspect of an army with plenty of health and courage, and possessed of ample munitions of some kinds, while totally wanting in others, because it has been fit- ted out by a government very liberal of its money, but totally ignorant of the wants of an army. Each company fights splen- didly on its own account, but the army at large is ineffective, from the want of leadership and discipline. The public at large knows very little about the fighting, and, in apportioning rewards is mord influenced by the military aspect of a sol- diers whiskers than by his deeds in battle. The basis of our requirements is a better knowledge of the wants of science among those who give money for its promotion. On the ma- 118 Abstract Science in America, 17T61876. [Jan. terial side we want nothing new at present; we require no increase in the number of our museums, observatories, or laboratories during the present generation. What we do want can be seen by studying the logical connection of our severaJ deficiencies, as we have sought to point them out. We are deficient in the number of men actively devoted to scientific research of the higher types, in public recognition of the labors of those who are so engaged, in the machinery for making the public acquainted with~their labors and their wants, and in the pecuniary means for publishing their researches. Each of these deficiencies is, to a certain extent, both a cause and an effect of the others. The want of public recognition and ap- preciation is due partly to a want of system and organization, partly to the paucity of scientific publications. The paucity of research is largely due to the want of adequate reward in pub- lic estimation and recognition; while the paucity of scientific publications is due to the want of an adequate number of sup- porters. The supply of any one of these deficiencies would, to a certain extent, remedy all the others; and until one or more are so remedied, it is hopeless to expect any great improvement. In other intellectual nations, science has a fostering mother, in Germany the universities, in France the government, in England the scientific societies; and if science could find one here, it would speedily flourish. The only one it can look to here is the educated public; and if that public would find some way of expressing in a public and official manner its generous appreciation of the labors of American investigators, we should have the best entering wedge for supplying all the wants of our science. The precise form which such a recognition should take is comparatively unimportant, but the most natural one would seem to be that of medals or testimonials to be awarded from time to time to the authors of important published re- searches. The testimonials should have as much of a national character as possible, and should not be so few in number as to discourage the great mass of investigators from competing. Indeed, it might be well if the encouragement of beginners was made their principal object. The other way in which help could be most effectively given at small expense is by the support of two or three first-class 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 119 journals of exact science. We say exact science, because this is the department which is worst supplied in this respect; taking mathematics at one extreme and medi~ne at the other, we can pretty accurately gauge the exactness of each science by the difficulty its cultivators find in supporting journals de- voted to it. It may seem like reducing our thesis to the ridiculous to say that our wants in this respect could be well supplied at a cost of five or six thousand dollars per annum, and that the future prospect of the mathematical sciences in this land depend very largely on their cultivators being able to command this annual sum for the purpose indicated. On the whole, we have not been able to present the first century in roseate colors; and while we can well contemplate the future with hope, we cannot do so with entire confidence. If we ask what this signifies, we are at once led into questions which the thinker and the man of action may discuss indefi- nitely, but to which no answer can be returned which will com~ mand universal assent. It is admitted that if we consider only the general excellence and success of our applied science, if we reflect how well we have utilized the discoveries made by others, by developing them into railways, bridges, telegraphs, manufactures, machinery, and weapons of warfare, we have every reason to be well pleased with our success. Is this not enough to satisfy us? The standing of nations in the world depends solely on the effectiveness of their cannon, and will long continue to do so; the intellectual nations are foremost only because they know best how to forge cannon. Is it, theti, worth our while to set up any other standard to measure our- selves by? To take a little higher basis for our inquiries, the fundamental idea of our social system is the greatest happiness of the greatest number, and if the intellect of the masses is developing satisfactorily, can we not dispense with philosophers of every description? Suppose the higher types of exact thought should disappear entirely from among us, is there any danger that sudden calamity would overtake us, or slow decay undermine our national life? Or if, ascending above all con- siderations of mere utility, we inquire into the intellectual status to which, as a nation, we are entitled, ought we to draw any unfavorable conclusions from a deficiency in the higher 120 Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. forms of thought? It may be claimed that the number of men in each generation who can make a permanent impression on the literature, science, or art of a people are necessarily very few in number, so few, in fact, that their pr~ sence or absence is hardly felt in estimating the average intellect of the nation. The fact that the score or so of men necessary to enable our country to make a brilliant intellectual showing may not be found, does not in any way militate against the average intel- lect of the twenty or thirty millions who live in it. From this point of view, a nation in which every one, from the legislator to the day-laborer, could read and appreciate Plato, would be, intellectually, the greatest nation of the world, though it could not show the beginning of an intellectual life peculiar to itself. A community in which every man had a good grammar-school education would, from the same standpoint, be the best edu- cated in the world, though not a member of it had ever seen the inside of a college. To dispute the question what intellectual status should be assigned to communities such as these would be were logo- machy, and to question the desirableness of a state of things in which every member of the community, however humble, should be thoroughly educated, would be running counter to that idea of the universal diffusion of the highest means of happiness on which our society is based. Still, while in no way decrying a state of society in which every plougliboy could read Plato, we must point out that all the wants of our civil- ization would not thus be satisfied. In the complex opera- tions of that civilization we may see the same necessity of a division of labor, and the same absence of necessity that any one man shall be able to do everything, that we see in the operations of mere industry. In a factory, the highest effi- ciency is reached when each kind of productive faculty is em- ployed in the proper proportion, from the skill of the single managing head to that of the thousand operatives. In the same way the proper advance of our civilization requires the harmonious co-operation of minds of many orders, each present in the proper number. Its operations are most effectively per- formed when every member of society is able to perform his peculiar duties to his fellow-members in the most effective 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 121 way, and in which some one is found to perform every func- tion necessary to the progress of the whole. However desirable it may be that each individual should be able to do as many things as possible, the requirements of society atlarge do not extend beyond the limits we have indicated. That nation will advance most rapidly in which the statesmen have the strongest intellects and the navvies the strongest bodies. There is no more need that the latter should have the heads of statesmen than that the former should be able to handle the spade. We may .now see that while the neglect of philosophic research which we have pointed out may not diminish our judgment of the average American intellect, it does indicate a great want of oIi~e of the factors of our civilization. Scientific research, and the presence of those ideas on which civilization is founded, are so closely connected, and each is so productive of the other, that they cannot be separated. The fact that a very small number of investigators are sufficient to build and maintain the science of a country, should not blind us to the importance of their work. If we could count the men whose death in their cradles would have resulted in the continuance of the Dark Ages to the present time, the original minds whose thoughts have leavened our whole lump, we should fiuid it to be fearfully small. The fact that their number is small, and their influence exerted in ways so occult to the ordinary mind that they cannot be traced, naturally leads to a general under-esti- mate of the importance of their functions. In visiting a fac- tory, the superficial observer sees only the outward operations of the establishment, and may be easily led to believe that mechanical labor is the only important agency in its inception and continuance. The business skill of a few men, without which a large fraction of the operatives might have been run- ning the streets in idleness, or engaging in less remunerative labor, lies far in the background of his field of vision. Still further back lies the skill of the inventor who devised the mechanical operations he witnesses, while the genius of the physicist who discovered the natural laws on which the inven- tion is founded is entirely beyond his range. Not dissimilar are the views of the various elements of our social organization taken by those whose breadth of knowledge 122 Abstract & ience in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. and depth of understanding are not such as to enable them to trace all the causes at work in society. We are familiar with a class who see nothing in society, or at least in its industrial operations, beyond the work of the physical laborer. Another class, of a wider range of vision, can see the runctions of the organizer and the capitalist, without whom the means to make labor effective would be entirely wanting. The class who can fully grasp the functions of the purely intellectual laborers is yet smaller. Not because intellectual laborers are entirely unap- preciated by the public at large, but because an incorrect view is taken of their functions. To the average intelligent citizen philosophical thought and scientific research, when not imme- diately directed to some obvious practical end, are mere orna- nients, the trimmings in fact of the social edifice. They may be ornaments with which he would not willingly part; still it is only as ornaments that he values them, and if something must be lopped off, he is too apt to let them go first. Among the fallacious ideas which pervade society, there are none the dissipation of which is of more importance than the one thus formed of exact thought. No want from which our nation suffers is more urgent than that of a wider diffusion of the ideas and modes of thought of the exact sciences, and nothing is more fallacious than to look upon the results of such thought as purely ornamental. A large fraction of our public occupations consist in examinations and discussions of social phenomena, in which no certain result can be obtained with- out a logical exactness of investigation to which every-day life is an entire stranger. Each generation is determined to exam- ine for itself the foundations of society and of government, and is strongly disposed to tear away as rubbish everything which seems to impede progress and of which it does not see the utility. To what dangers may we not be exposed if the reno- vation is undertaken by unskilled hands, directed by men who are not only ignorant of social laws, but incapable of exact reasoning of any kind whatever! What is required to insure us against disaster is not mere technical research, but the instruction of our intelligent and influential public in such a discipline as that of Mills logic, to be illustrated by the meth- ods and results of scientific research. The present great move- 1876.] Abstract Science in America, 1776 1876. 123 ment in favor of scientific education will be productive of one excellent result, if it serves to direct the minds of the rising generation toward the methods of science, and the ways in which those methods must be applied to the study of societary laws rather than to the technicalities of science, or to its prac- tical applications to the ordinary operations of industry. The most superficial observer cannot fail to see that there is some want of the kind we are indicating to be filled. He sees statesmen, orators, newspapers, and magazines d.iscussing the currency question by hundreds every day. He knows that their words fall dead upon the ear of the public, for the simple reason that the speakers and writers cannot convince the public that they have any real knowledge of the subject, or any clear understanding of the questions involved. In this way the entire ineffectiveness of the great mass of the arguments is quite clear to him. What he sees very dimly, or not at all, is that the deficiency arises from the want of any systematic logical method in the processes by which the disputants reach their conclusion, while the way in which such a method is to be mastered lies quite beyond his vision. If he sees the way, he certainly will not consider philosophic thought as a mere ornament. From this point of view science presents itself as a system of national liberal education, to be maintained for the same reasons that we maintain the liberal education of the individ- ual. Without it we shall suffer precisely as the individual suffers when he follows a profession of which he does not un- derstand the first principles. We must look to the cultivation of science in its broadest fields to do for the future of the hation what a knowledge of mathematics does for the engi- neer, of chemistry for the physician, or of mechanics for the architect. Its function is not merely to furnish empirical rules for our guidance, but to shed the brightest possible light upon a difficult path, in which we are to make our way by our own best judgment. With it, the path may sometimes be hard to find; but without it, we must grope entirely in the dark. SIMON NEWCOMB. 124 Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. ART. IV. ECONOMIC SCIENCE IN AMERICA, 1776 1876. THE century which has elapsed since our independence was declared exactly covers the period for which the science of political economy has been a systematized branch of human learning and research. Before the publication of Adam Smiths Wealth of Nations in 1776, we have, indeed, discussions of detached topics, and even attempts here and there to throw the whole into connected form; but, after all, the economist finds the foundations of the science, as it stands to-day, laid deep and solid for the first time by Adam Smith; the great men who have since carried fQrward the work have declared themselves his followers, and in developing and extending the science have kept to the lines of discussion which lie laid down with such vigor and insight a century ago. The science which is thus coeval with our nation has been studied with zeal and with Ineasurable success in most parts of tb~ civilized world. New principles have been evolved, tested by the abnndant experience of modern industry, and added to the body of ascertained truths. Unceasing discussion has enforced constant revision of the whole work, with increase of firmness and consistency as the issue of every threatened revo- lution. The field properly occupied by the science has been surveyed and its limits determined, even to the disappointment of over-ambitious economists or of a too expectant public. No other moral science has equally engaged the attention of public men, and 110 other, it is safe to say, has equally influenced public affairs, whether by the correct or the incorrect applica- tion of its principles. Nor has any nation had the monopoly of honors gained in this new pursuit. Adam Smith, Ricardo, and Mill have secured the leading position for England; but France and Germany, and perhaps Italy, have made contribu- tions of lasting importance to tile subject, and have never been without their full proportion of active and judicious investi- gators. Notwithstanding the priority of England in some remarkable advances, the centre of interest in economic dis- cussion has not always rested with her; it has at times been

124 Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. ART. IV. ECONOMIC SCIENCE IN AMERICA, 1776 1876. THE century which has elapsed since our independence was declared exactly covers the period for which the science of political economy has been a systematized branch of human learning and research. Before the publication of Adam Smiths Wealth of Nations in 1776, we have, indeed, discussions of detached topics, and even attempts here and there to throw the whole into connected form; but, after all, the economist finds the foundations of the science, as it stands to-day, laid deep and solid for the first time by Adam Smith; the great men who have since carried fQrward the work have declared themselves his followers, and in developing and extending the science have kept to the lines of discussion which lie laid down with such vigor and insight a century ago. The science which is thus coeval with our nation has been studied with zeal and with Ineasurable success in most parts of tb~ civilized world. New principles have been evolved, tested by the abnndant experience of modern industry, and added to the body of ascertained truths. Unceasing discussion has enforced constant revision of the whole work, with increase of firmness and consistency as the issue of every threatened revo- lution. The field properly occupied by the science has been surveyed and its limits determined, even to the disappointment of over-ambitious economists or of a too expectant public. No other moral science has equally engaged the attention of public men, and 110 other, it is safe to say, has equally influenced public affairs, whether by the correct or the incorrect applica- tion of its principles. Nor has any nation had the monopoly of honors gained in this new pursuit. Adam Smith, Ricardo, and Mill have secured the leading position for England; but France and Germany, and perhaps Italy, have made contribu- tions of lasting importance to tile subject, and have never been without their full proportion of active and judicious investi- gators. Notwithstanding the priority of England in some remarkable advances, the centre of interest in economic dis- cussion has not always rested with her; it has at times been 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. 125 in France; it is now, probably, in Germany. In short, the science has been made a common possession by the efforts of all. When we come to inquire what part our own country has taken, and what contribution it has made in building up this science, we are struck at the outset by the fact that the growth of tho United States has been a circumstance of prime impor- tance in the economic history of the world during the century. It must be placed in the same rank with the brilliant succession of discoveries in the industrial arts, or with the extensive im- provement of government and social organization, as oiie of the half-dozen great influences which have changed the face of the civilized world. Without entering into the details of a comparison, to which every reader is likely to have his atten- tion sufficiently drawn during the present year, we may here note a rew of the facts which have given to the development of this country so great an influence upon that of the rest of the world. Beginning with the statement of mere area, the or- ganized States of the Uiiion now occupy a territory larger than the whole of Europe, outside of the iRussian Empire. The im- proved land of these States, measuring 295,000 square miles in 1870, cannot be much less than the total improved surface of England and Ireland, France and Prussia, together. Of this vast field of production, we may fairly say that the whole has been brought into the circle of international exchanges and added to the available resources of mankind within this century, so insignificant were its relations with the rest of the world a hundred years ago. Moreover, the products to which this territory is adapted by nature are such as have a singularly direct and important bearing on the welfare of other countries. How great an industrial revolution has been wrought by cotton, and what the nineteenth century would be without that fibre, of which we produce more than half of all that comes to the markets of Europe and America, it would be hard to say; but the memory of our civil war is still fresh enough to tell us what universal disaster must follow the interruption of our supply, and what a chain of consequences, involving the well. being, the peace, the institutions, and even liberty of millions of nlen, have followed from the addition of the cotton-plant to 126 Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. the agricultural products of the South. Of different but hardly inferior significance in the economy of the world is our supply of gold. The astonishing expansion of industry and coin- nierce for which the close of the wars of Napoleon seems to have given the signal, which has stimulated and been stimu- lated by our growth, is one of the great phenomena in the history of mankind. This expansion, however, must have been checked at the most critical period, had not fresh dis- coveries of gold supplied the enlarged medium of exchange required by the new scale of transactions; and of this series of discoveries, the second in importance in recorded history, Cali- fornia made one of the chief and also the earliest. From that time the United States have continued to be the first in im- portance of the sources of gold; and were this our only eco- nomic relation to the rest of the world, the influence of our rise as a nation upon the general well-being must be admitted to be direct and powerful in an extraordinary degree. Tobacco, one of our earliest staples for export, has become not only an article of great moment in the revenue systems of several leading nations, but stands in a peculiar relation as one of the few luxuries which enter largely into the con- sumption of the poorer classes of all countries, thus acquiring, as it were, a social importance far beyond its simple pecuniary value. And of tobacco, the United States are now the leading source of supply for England, France and Germany. To turn from this to petroleum, one of our newest staple articles of export, and now the third or fourth in importance on our list, it may be doubted whether to the majority even the ludicrous incidents of the discovery do not continue to be more familiar than the reflection that by the timely introduction of a cheap and excellent artificial light an immense boon was conferred upon a large part of the civilized world. And last among those economically important natural products to which we shall refer are the cereals. Our capacity for the supply of these, although of secondary importance in the markets of other countries, has made it possible for us to sustain an in- crease of population which, for years, has been cited as the standard example of maximum natural growth. This abuti- dance of cheap food has also made it for our interest, simul 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. 127 taneously with this rapid natural increase of numbers, to invite from the Old World an immigration on a scale so vast as to constitute in itself an economic phenomenon of no mean order, the result being the relief of the older countries from a serious, if not dangerous, pressure of numbers, by the transfer to our shores of more than nine millions of people, or a number equal to the whole population of Great Britain at the date of our independence. And the population thus established upon our soil, whether native born or of immediate foreign extrac- tion, has proved to be no inert mass, but, from the start, has been active and resolute to a fault, in improving all material advantages and in pushing its way to a place among the great powers of the modern world. Mineral resources of remarkable variety, and of extent not even yet fully measured, together with fortunate conditions of physical geography, have seconded these efforts and have often enabled us to enter into sharp competition with the longer-established industries of Europe. To excellent natural facilities for communication has been added a railway system of 75,000 miles, being little less than half the railway mileage of the world, and going far to neutral- ize the disadvantage of great distances, which, in some direc- tions, threatened to hamper our growth. A mercantile marine, which even in its present depressed condition is not far short of the greatest on the ocean, and is of nearly double the magni- tu~& 6ffts next competitor, helps in part to connect this vast internal network with the general commercial system of the world. So great, however, is the volume of our exchanges with other countries, that scarcely one third of it is transported by our own shipping. With the mother-country, especially, our commerce has grown, until it overshadows that of every other nation with whom she carries on a trade either of export or of import. What a growth this has been is shown by the fact that the steam-tonnage now annually cleared for New York alone from the United Kingdom exceeds the total tonnage of ships annually cleared for all parts of the world down to the close of our IRevolution. In the process of development indicated by these few leading facts, the United States, by a natural and steady though rapid movement, have taken among commercial nations a place not 128 iEconomic Science in America, 17761876. [Jan. lower than the second, and likely soon to become the first, the second or first place, it must be remembered, in a changed world, and in a scale of magnitudes hardly comparable with those of 1776. We have advanced to the front among com- petitors who were themselves all rapidly advancing. But, with improved facilities for intercourse, the economic ties be- tween countries have been vastly multiplied and strengthened, and to hold a leading position in commerce now implies a direct connection with the progress of others and with their material well-being, immeasurably closer than has ever existed before. Every fresh conquest over nature made by us belongs to the family of nations also, and every loss suffered by us is also their loss. Infinite mutually dependent interests unite us with Europe and with the very antipodes. Every pulsation in the financial system is felt alike on each side of the Atlantic. A crisis in London has its instant counterpart here, and the great revulsions which periodically sweep over the commercial world may begin, almost as chance may dictate, in New York or in Vienna. The value of the triumphs of material development achieved by the United States is not to be underrated. They represent but one side of human progress, but their influence on interests of a higher order is immediate and powerful. The world can- not yet dispense with the stimulus which the search for wealth gives to every science and art, nor forego the support which the increase of wealth gives to some of time pursuits and insti- tutions which most elevate and ennoble civilized life. Doubt- less Carlyle is right when he says that Americas battle is yet to fight Their quantity of cotton, dollars, industry, and resources I believe to be almost unspeakable; but I can by no i~ans worship the like of these. But these have been one of the great factors in producing whatever of progress and hope the world has gained in our age. If not to be wor- shipped, they are still not to be despised, for from them comes, as must be admitted, much that is itself worshipful. Even our merely material growth may then fairly be a subject of pride, so long as we remember that it is itself only the means for higher ends. Standing in this relation to the general advance in wealth 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. 129 which the world has made, it might have been thought in ad- vance that the United States would be prompt in investigating the laws which govern all economic progress. The philo~o- pher who could have foreseen in 1776 the amazing career of the weak and scantily peopled Colonies which then took their place as an independent power, might easily have been per- suaded that the new science then having its birth and treatii~g of the nature and causes of the wealth of nations, would be taken up by this people with especial animation and success. Here, he might have said, is the beginning of an inquiry into the nature and causes of that which will chiefly occupy the new nation. Others in their maturity or decadence may pros- ecute this inquiry in the hope of discovering the means of escape from impending evil; this people will pursue it with the enthusiasm of strengthening youth. Success in this inves- tigation and a wise application of its results will account for the splendid triumphs in the acquisition of material wealth, which are to distinguish the first century of independent national life. How far the imagined anticipations of our philosopher have been verified, and the reason for their failure so far as they may be found to have failed, is the object of the. review on which we now enter. The condition in which the breaking out of our Revolution found the study of economic science in this country is ~we1l exemplified by the writings of Franklin. Of all our public men of that period he was the one whom we should perhaps most naturally expect to find dealing with this class of sub- jects, and, if not profoundly investigating the causes of phe- nomena, at least deriving from observation and reflection sound and consistent rules for practical guidance. His ~c- tivity in the political discussions of more than half a century, and his natural fondness for every inquiry respecting material well-being, seem to mark him out as the American who must deal with political economy if any one did, and the one who could rise to the level of the national thought in economic g speculation, if he did not soar much beyond it. Franklin wrote upon topics of this class from his twenty-third year, and probably wrote as well in his twenty-third year as he ever did. The questions of currency then raised in every Colony by the VOL. CXXII.NO. 250. 9 130 Economic Science in America, 177G 187G. [Jan. paper issues of the colonial governments- he had occasion to treat of at several different times. But the support which he gave to issues of that kind rests on no well-defined systematic body of opinions; indeed, his discussion of the continental currency, in some of his letters, raises questions as to his clearness of perception in morals as well as in political econ- omy. He is quoted with admiration by writers of the protec~- tiQnist school, and he might equally well be quoted by their opponents. He was in fact a man of expedients rather than principles, often sagacious in dealing with immediately practi- cal questions, but satisfied with the crudest speculations as to the operation of causes in any degree remote. His economic writings were edited for Mr. Sparkss collection of his works by the late Judge Phillips, himself an economist of no mean capacity; and the annotations of the editor afford ample evi- dence that he found it no easy task to present with respectful comment and due admiration the mass of ill-digested reason- ing placed in his hands. That Franklin read much of the writings of others on questions of political economy is not to be inferred from his works. Smiths Wealth of Nations is cited in a paper on the increase of wages in Europe likely to be caused by the American Revolution, written shortly after 1780, when Franklin was abroad; but the citation is made to settle a fact, and not to further the discussion or elucidation of a principle. Of Franklin then it must be said, that lie not only did not advance the growth of economic science, but that lie seems not even to have mastered it as it was already developed; and little more can be said for any of our public men or writers during the period of Franklins activity. We find no one well versed in ecoiiomic theory and entering upon spec- ulative inquiries of real value until we come to Alexander Hamilton. That great man, whose remarkable career was finished at the point when most men are just ready for action, was a reader and inquirer in political economy in his twentieth year. In his twenty-fifth year, in such leisure as the camp of the Revolution afforded, he matured a scheme for a Bank of the United States, and became a correspondent of Morris on that subject. And, finally, at the age of thirty-four, he produced, 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. 131 as Secretary of the Treasury, his great reports on the Public Credit, on a National Bank, and on Manufactures, the most powerful and comprehensive discussion of the national finances ever made under our government, and the subject, it may be re- membered, of one of Mr. Websters noblest periods. Those reports bear the evidence throughout of much reading and reflection upon the experience of nations, and of careful medi- tation on the speculations and theories of previous writers. Examination of the report on Manufactures, in particular, will show that in some parts of it, in his selection of topics and even in the order in which they are marshalled, Hamilton was influenced by his familiarity with Adam Smith. The writings of the French economists were probably known to him at this time, as they certainly were a few years later, and some of the doctrines of this school, as well as Smiths conces- sions to them, received from him a successful refutation. Both the knowledge of economic questions and the power of dealing with them exhibited by Hamilton in these discussions warrant us in setting him down as a writer who, under other conditions and freed from the pressure of public business, might have been expected to make some positive contribution to the development of economic theory. But his few crowded. years left him little opportunity for such pursuits, and it would now be hard to say that he left any impression on the thought of the world, by his dealing with this subject. His reports have continued to be the arsenal from which the advocates of special measures have again and again drawn forth weapons now well worn; but systematic political economy cannot be said to owe to him any recognized principle, any discovery in method, or indeed any influence save the stimulus which his example must always afford to the student of financial history. If Hamilton did not permanently influence the economic thought of the world, there is certainly no other statesman of that period for whom such a distinction can be claimed. Among Hamiltons great contemporaries none followed the discussions of the new science with more interest than Jeffer- son and Madison; but neither of these statesmen was com- parable to Hamilton in his mastery of the subject. Jefferson had that fondness for it which he had for all philosophical 132 Economic Science in America, 1776 187G. [Jan. speculation, kept himself informed as to all new publications abroad, was instrumental in bringing some of these before the American public, and corresponded with some of the leading French economists of his day; but in his own discussions of economic questions it is difficult to find any firm ground of logical principle, and impossible to find any addition to what had been previously ascertained and better comprehended by others. Madison, with interests less diffuse than Jeffersons, had a much firmer hold upon this subject. He appears to have followed its current literature with close attention, and to have reflected upon principles and to have applied them, with great although not uniform force, in his reasoning upon public questions. It is interesting to find Madison and, indeed, Jefferson also giving in an early adhesion to the doctrines of Malthus on population, and defending them by arguments from the experience of the United States. But Madison could make as little pretension as Jefferson to having added any results of original investigation to the work of others. His merit was not as an economist, but as a statesman who con- scientiously prepared himself for the duties of public life by fol- lowing this necessary branch of a statesmans studies. Of the other public men of this early period of our history we need mention only Robert Morris and Gallatin; and of these eminent practical financiers the latter only has any claim to notice in connection with scientific theory. The memorial drawn up by him and presented to Congress, in 1832, from the Philadelphia Convention in favor of tariff reform, is a full and strong state- ment of the arguments against protection, and exhibits famil- iarity with the results of theoretical discussion, as well as with the practical side of the question; but the complete oblivion which now covers the document shows how narrow and tem- porary is the influence to be credited to it. His pamphlet on The Currency and Banking System is also a comprehensive and sound discussion of these topics, but has ceased to be much referred to, except for historicaV purposes. Of the great men of the next generation, Mr. Calhoun was doubtless well qualified by nature for this field of investigation, and displayed a strong inclination to enter upon it; but, un- happily, every mental power and every pursuit at last became 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. 133 subservient with him to a narrow sectionalism, which finally frustrated all hope of sound fruit from a laborious life. The electric power with which Mr. Clay acted upon the emotions of men was not coupled with any special capacity for the research of principles; and while his name is iiiseparably connected with the American system, his argumentative defence of that system is practically forgotten, so much easier was it for him to give vogue to an effective name, than to give a sci- entific basis to the thing itself Mr. Webster discussed with great power many questions involving general principles, of political economy, but he never cared to apply his intellect to the foundations of the science. Indeed, in one of his letters he says: I give up what is called the science of political economy. . . . I believe I have recently run over twenty vol- umes, from Adam Smith to Professor Dew, of Virginia; and from the whole, if I were to pick out with one hand all the mere truisms, and with the other all the doubtful propositions, little would be left. Whatever else may be said of this pas- sage, it absolves us from the necessity of further explanation of Mr. Websters failure to contribute to the worlds advance- merit in economic science. Of the contemporaries of these three great men, the other champions on whose words listen- ing senates once hung, in the fierce contest over tariff and bank, no name can now be recalled as having any claim to connection with the development of the science of which we speak. Lowudes, Crawford, Wright, Berrien, MeDufile, Ben- tori, and the others may yet shine in our political history, but they are unknown in political science. And if we examine the roll of statesmen of the generation which closes our century~ what better success is met? We find, indeed, the names of some men who have skilfully man- aged interests of vast magnitude, and of others, not in great number, who have shown a competent scientific knowledge; but we may safely challenge the mention of one who has added to the stock of economic principles with which the world was already acquainted, or has given any essential assistance in their elucidation. As a class our public men have confined themselves, like Franklin, to the sagacious application of rules of thumb. So far as they have dealt with the science at all, it 134 Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. has been made for them by others; they have not aided in making it. Indeed, the promise held out by hamiltons great example, of the thorough examination of questions in the light of ascertained principles, has seldom been fulfilled, even by our highest officers of administration. Few things, in fact, are more noticeable in our recent political history than the ex- treme fragility and brevity of the reputations acquired, either in administration or in legislation, by most of our public men who have assumed to deal with this class of subjects. .If we turn from the statesmen to the scholars of the United States, the result is not more satisfactory. Down to the year 1820 no American produced any treatise on political economy which the world has cared to remember. Such books of that period as come to light, upon industrious search in forgotten cor- ners, are crude, unsystematic, full of empirical notions, and are now intellectually obsolete. The philosophical study of the subject, to which Adam Smith gave an impulse abroad, was, in fact, late in making any public appearance on this side of the Atlantic. The increasing interest in it is shown by three editions of the Wealth of Nations (Philadelphia, 1789; Hartford, 1811; ibid., 1818), and by the reprinting of IRicar- dos great work (Georgetown, 1819) only two years after its original publication. But when we remember that on the other side of the Atlantic this period was marked by the ap- pearance of works so important, and in some cases of such last- ing influence, as those of Malthus, Say, Ricardo, and Sismnondi, the poverty of American thought upon the subject is striking, even if we allow, as we must, for the infancy of the country and the consequent small number of its literary class, in the twenty years which followed the period of which we have just spoken, a tolerably rapid succession of treatises by American authors was given to the public. Raymond (1820) brought to the discussion zeal and ingenuity, but such looseness of method and want of precision of ideas as to defeat his efforts and de stroy the value of his work, which, indeed, from its confusion of definition and want of system, seems a late growth of the generation which preceded Smith, rather than one of that which followed him. Alexander H. Everett, fresh from the influences of a long residence in Europe, and of personal inter- 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. 185 course with some of the leading economists of the world, pub- lished (1822) an answer to the essay of Malthus on Popula- tion, which holds a place among the best of the many attempts made in this direction; but his dialectic skill was not able even to supply the opponents of the Malthusian doctrine with a common standing ground, and still less to prevent the doc- trine from being accepted in its essentials by the great majority of economists who have followed, and eveti by many who imagine that they reject it. Dr. Cooper, of South Carolina, issued a treatise (1826), of which McCnlloch says that, though not written in a very philosophical spirit, it is the best of the American works on political economy that we have met with, an encomium measured with judicious care. Dr. Coopers chief success, in fact, was in reproducing in sys- tematic form the results attained by the English economists, with whose works he was well acquainted; but he did nothing itt original speculation. Willard Phillips produced a treatise (1828) in which, treating the whole structure of Malthus and Ricardo as unsound, he sought to take up the subject where Adam Smith had left it. He treated it with an abundant knowledge of commercial and industrial facts, and with a mind well trained for speculative inquiry; but it was com- plained, even by a friendly contemporary critic, that he reared nothing in place of that which he sought to remove. Raes book (1834) has beeti pronounced by high authority to be a valu- able discussiGn of the subject of production; but as the work of a Scotchman settled in Canada, and originally intended for pub- lication abroad, we can hardly count it as an American contri- bution. President Waylands book (1837) is the only general treatise of the period which can fairly be said to have survived to our day; and this, it must be admitted, owes whatever value it has to its manner of presenting for easy comprehension some of the leading English doctrines, of which, however, it may be doubted whether the author ever fully recognized the bear- ing. Vethakes treatise (1838) is now little known, its more valuable portion having served its purpose, like the works of Cooper and Waylaud, of bringing before our public some of the results, at that time unfamiliar, which had been reached by writers not then well understood in this coui~try. Other 136 Economic & ience in America, 1776 1876. [Jan~ writers of this period, like Dew, Newman, Tucker, and Potter, can be dismissed even more summarily, so transient was their influence, and so completely forgotten are their works. The years which followed from 1840 down to the war for the Union were for natural reasons much less prolific of works on political economy than the period just noticed. The stimulus given to the study of the science by the extraordinary advances made in it by the great English investigators had ceased to be active; questions of currency, as we shall presently see, had fallen into a subordinate rank; the tariff question, after a furious party struggle in which all considerations of political science were lost sight of, seemed to have been settled; and the great sectional controversy began to fill all minds, to the exclusion of every other public question. A few text-hooks appeared, recasting familiar material; as, for example, the well-known treatise of Professor Bowen (1856), in which he threw into connected form a long series of articles and lectures produced by him in the preceding ten years, and Bascoms convenient r~8um6 of economic theory (t859). To these we must add Stephen CoIwells work on The Ways and Means of Payment (1859), the production of an author who had few equals as regards his acquaintance with economic litera- ture, but who in this, his chief work, appears to have been led into unprofitable subtleties, which have failed to influence appreciably the opinions or studies of others. Beyond these works, however, and omitting for the present a writer whom we must notice more at length further on, our literature now has little to show in this department except pamphlets and occasional essays of limited interest, for the years in which the wonderful phenomena of the California discoveries were occurring in our own country. In the period which includes and follows the war we have a few works like that of the late Amasa Walker (1866), with its earnest but not always conclusive discussions of currency, and the vigorous treatise by Professor Perry (1866), both designed for use as manuals, and claiming but little attention as statements of original thought. In general it must be said of the last ten years, that while they have witnessed a marked and salutary revival of interest in economic discussion, the 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. 137 most absorbing questions which have caused this revival have been quite too rudimentary to lead to fresh development of principle. Whether we shall have more paper, or shall return to specie, are questions calling not for research so much as for skill and force in rhetorical treatment, which may carry axio- matic truths into unwilling or otherwise unreceptive minds. It is true that the question whether our fiscal policy should look to continued protection or to ultimate freedom of trade involves more really controversial matter; but this has been so far overshadowed and complicated by the question of cur- rency, that it neither has produced nor seems to us likely to produce for some time to come any marked originality of investigation. It might perhaps have been enough for our purpose, if, in- stead of passing in review this series of American writers on political economy, we had simply called attention to the fact that, with few exceptions, the works produced in the United States have been prepared as text-books by authors engaged in college instruction, and therefore chiefly interested in bringing principles previously worked out by others within the easy comprehension of undergraduate students. The success with which this work has often been done and its value, we shall not question; but clearly it is not by such means that discoveries in abstract science are likely to be made or to be announced to the world. It should occasion no surprise, therefore, that of the considerable list of American writers on the subject, so few have produced any impression out of our own country, or have been able even at home to give to the study any strong im- pulse. Not only has no American school of writers on political economy been established, if we except that which we are about to notice, but no recognized contribution to the develop- ment of the science can be poilited out in any way comparable to those made by the French writers, or to those which the Germans are now making. The writer to whom we have referred as offering in some respects a possible exception to these general remarks is Mr. Henry C. Carey. It cannot be said that Mr. Carey has not engaged attention outside of his own country, for his works have been translated and circulated in nearly every important 138 Economic Science in America, 17~T6 1876. [Jan. language of Europe, and Mr. Mill on several occasions pays him the distinguished tribute of singling him out in an especial manner from a throng of opponents. Nor can it be said that he has won his place by following others, for his system aims at nothing less than revolution in the leading doctrines of political economy, and he certainly bids fair to stand next to Malthus and Ricardo as a provoker of controversy. This exceptional position has been attained as the result of a long and laborious career as a writer. Mr. Careys first publication, in which he appears as an advocate of free-trade, with an economic theory based on a new doctrine of value, dates from 1835. His de- nial of Ricardos doctrine as to the law of production from land and his conversion to the theory of protection followed a ~dozen years later. The final elab6ration of his system in opposition to what he is fond of calling the British school appeared ten years later still, in 1858; and hardly a year has passed since without some addition to the long line of his works on this class of subjects. This series of publications has had a distinct and not inconsiderable effect. Bastiat not only borrowed Careys law of value and presented it in a bril- liant paraphrase, but seems to show Careys influence through- out his eager search for harmonies in the economic world. In Germany, where the way was no doubt prepared for him by the labors of Frederic List, Mr. Carey has found a large class of readers, whose numbers are explained by Dr. Diihring of Berlin, the most active German writer of this school, by point- ing to the American authors early sympathy with the Ger- mans and his prediction of their intellectual leadership of the world; although a more substantial ground of explanation might be found perhaps in his more than German readiness to refer to the co-ordinating power of the state, as a specific for social or economic discords. But while we may admit that the system elaborated by our countryman is likely to be, as Diihring says, a ferment of the strongest kind in the discussions of this generation, we must not forget that to lead a school is not necessarily making a contribution to the science. Not much of Mr. Careys work, we are confident, will be found wrought into the political econ- omy of the future. His doctrine of value gives epigramnmatic 1876.] Economic Science in Amcrica, 17761876. 1, 10I~ form to some important general truths, but does not sn~ersede the usual conception of value as the ratio of exchange or. pur- chasing power of commodities, or enable us to dispense with the use of that conception in dealing with a wide range of questions, both theoretical and practical. His doctrine as to the law of production from land, which is presented in fundamental con- tradiction of the English school, is chiefly a statement as to historical development, which does not touch the essential point of Ricardos theory; and while he denies the whole of that theory and the law of Malthus as to increase of popula- tion, his reliance upon a conjectured physiological law as an ultimate limit to the increase of numbers, shows the difficulty which he has found in avoiding as a logical conclusion the ten- dency to increasing pi~ssure upon the means of subsistence pointed out by those writers. And it is upon his speculations as to value, production from land, and population that, as we apprehend, his claims to be regarded as a permanent contribu- tor to the science would be rested,not upon his later discus- sions of protection, the major part of which follows from the three lines of speculation just named, nor upon his theorizing as to money, in which his priority might be disputed by a series of writers, from John Law down. That Mr. Carey, by his ardent attack, compels a wholesome revision of positions and arguments there is no question; that he has checked some incautious generalizing we have no doubt; but that he has overturned any previously accepted principle of leading importance, still more that he has established any new and valuable principle originated by himself, is a claim which, in our judgment, cann6t be made good. In thus recognizing Mr. Careys position as a writer of ex- ceptional importance, we are confirmed by observing that he is the only American author noticed by Dr. IRoscher in his exhaustive History of National Economy in Germany. But it must be admitted, we think, that Mr. Careys following, in our own country, has had a more local character than might have been expected from his wide reputation. The work of E. Peshine Smith (1868), Dr. William Elders Questions of the Day(1871), and Professor Thompsons Social Science (1875), are representative, not only of the views of his school, 140 Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. but almost of its geographical limits in the United States. The conclusion at which we have arrived, however, as to Mr. Careys own position with respect to the development of eco- nomic science, frees us from the necessity of considering more particularly those writers who have followed but have not advanced beyond him.* The general result then to which, as we believe, a sober examination of the case must lead any candid inquirer, is, that the United States have, thus far, done nothing towards develop- ing the theory of political economy, notwithstanding their vast and immediate interest in its practical applications. It is not an agreeable duty to declare a conclusion so little flatter- ing to patriotic sentiment; but to arrive at it as a truth forced upon the mind by the history of economic science is still less agreeable. And what explanation, it will be asked, is to be given for a failure apparently so much at variance with what our material condition, the general intelligence of our people, and the growth of intellectual activity among us, might lead the inquirer to expect? The answer to this question will be easier, if we briefly consider the circumstances under which one of the leading public questions having an economic bear- ing has been discussed and acted upon in this country. The question of paper currency, when it first came before the people of the United States for settlement under the present Constitution, in 1790 91, was already complicated in a manner which made its thorough investigation doubtrul. Whether such paper should be issued at all, whether it should be regulated by the general government or the States, and whether the proposed national bank should control the paper issues of the country, or should be content with simply pouring its own into the general mass, were questions the decision of which was in a manner forestalled by the existence of banks of issue established several years before under State * It is impossible to make any serious mention of Mr. Greeley as a writer on political economy, although his name is sometimes included in a full catalogue of Mr. Pareys school. And we have not included the name of Mr. Colwell, because, while he, no doubt, agreed with Mr. Carey iu many points, we observe that in a note to the translation of Lists National System of Political Economy, p. 335, he more than intimated dissent from Mr. Careys theory of rent; and Mr. Careys system, with that theory struck out, would not be recognizable by its author. 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. 141 authority, and not easily disturbed by the new government. And the approach to the fundamental question as to bank paper was still further embarrassed by the political turn which the discussion took in its early stages. The advocates of a liberal construction of the Constitution, and those of a strict construction, arrayed their forces for battle over this question as soon as it appeared. Nothing, indeed, could be more natural; but nothing could be more unfortunate for the proper settlement of an economic problem. All scientific questions were made subordinate to the political question at the outset. The party who dreaded to see the national govern- ment too strong were committed in advance in opposition to a measure which for them was part of a general political system, and in large sections of the country hostility to the bank became hostility to banking. And the division of opinion upon this line, rather than upon abstract principle, was promoted by the supposed opposition of interests between the commercial States and the agricultural. Of thirty-nine votes for the bill chartering the first Bank of the United States, all but six were from States north of the Maryland line; of the twenty votes against the bill, all but one were from States south of that line. How far the political side of the ques- tion of banking overshadowed the scientific is clear from the manner in which it was discussed by Mr. Jefferson, from whom one of the great parties took its tone for years. That statesmans treatment of the question of currency, and, indeed, of other economic questions of which the relations happened to be political, would to-day be universally recognized as beneath the level both of his intellect and his knowledge. His intense democracy, and his extreme dread of any proposition based on English models or English opinions, incapacitated him for any genuine discussion of this subject in its larger aspects. And to what length the ignorant bigotry of many of his followers carried the hostility to banks, which was instinctive with him, the political history of our first half-century amply testifies. The prudence and good judgment with which the first Bank of the United States was conducted are now seldom ques- tioned; and the real service which it rendered, in its twenty years of existence, towards giving a stable foundation for our 142 Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. finances, at a time when the State banks and their issues were in actual chaos, is not more doubtful. But the Bank owed its existence to the Federal party, and with the downfall of that party the renewal of its charter became impossible. Late in the War of 1812, an empty treasury brought the government of the day to the support of a new bank charter, as an expedient of the moment. Banks, said Mr. Webster, in sober adinoni- tion, cannot give the means of supporting an expensive war. They are useful to the state in their proper place and sphere, but they are not sources of national income. The streams of revenue must flow from deeper fountains. But so urgent was the demand for a bank, on grounds of merely temporary policy, that Mr. Madison, who had opposed the charter of the first Bank of the United States, vetoed, as dilatory, one bill chartering the new bank, because it required the institution to begin on the basis of specie payments! Happily, the return of peace settled this weighty question for us, and the secoiid Bank of the United States was chartered, to begin as a specie-paying bank, on the first day of January, 1817. But whatever influence the new Bank of the United States might have had in directing the pul4ic mind to broader views of the question of currency, had it been left to itself and had its management continued to be sound, its circumstances did not allow such influence to be exerted by it. Political hostility was excited against it, and, six years before the expiration of its charter, war was formally declared against it by President Jackson. We, of the present generation, are in some respects losers from the total and probably final disappearance of that personal loyalty to great leaders, which marked our politics forty years ago and gave to them a glow of generous enthusi- asm; but in some respects we are also gainers. The over- whelming individuality of one man is not likely again to convert a high question of economic policy into a mere strug- gle between Jackson and ~he Bank, in which the rival clamors of personal adherents and personal foes shall drown all considerations of scientific or political principle. Such, however, was the ignoble character of the contest which led to the final overthrow of the second Bank of the United States. The financial revulsion which followed .that contest, and was 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. 143 in part its natural consequence, established for years in the minds of a great political party the notion, it could hardly be called an opinion, that paper currency of any sort is sure to work ruin. Under the domination of this party the general government in 1846 made specie its only currency, and left the paper, the currency of the people in three quarters of the States, to take care of itself. That this measure for the pro- tection of the treasury was judicious, supposing it to be settled that the paper was to remain free from all control, few are now disposed to deny; but it involved an abdication of power over the part of the circulation which was of immediate impor- tance to the mass of the community, and a confession of the insolubility of a great public question, which hardly has its parallel. The effect produced on our statesmen by thus drawing a line which left this whole subject in the exclusive province of State legislation, was disastrous. From 1846 to 1862 the study or discussion of currency and finance formed no part of the train- ing of men for national politics. In the legislatures of the States questions of this class were dealt with by men of an in- ferior order, or by those who were only anxious to make their mark and go up into a broader field; but they had ceased to be national questions which could repay the political aspirants to national office for any considerable expenditure of time or thought. Congress had nothing to do with the currency, ex- cept to settle the weight and fineness of the coin, and gov- ernment finance resolved itself into paying all demands in gold from a treasury which generally overflowed, and borrow- ing upon easy credit in any exceptional case of difficulty. It is not surprising that, when the war for the Union compelled the government to deal comprehensively and at short notice with questions of finance and currency in their most threaten- ing form and on a gigantic scale, we had no leading man in public life who could speak upon them authoritatively or com- mand general attention. The bald confessions of unfamiliarity with what had become the vital topics of the hour are a humil- iating part of the record; but what other outcome from our public history was possible? We need not characterize in detail the consequences of this misfortune. Victory came in 144 Economic Science in America, 17761876. [Jan. season to avert the ruin with which the gross violation of the plainest economic principles threatened the nation, and the task of repairing the mischief and returning to specie was set before us. For eight years, however, it waa overshadowed by the busi- ness of Southern reconstruction, and was habitually treated by men in public life as a topic of the second order, which could wait for settlement at a more convenient season, and as to which perhaps one need not yet make up his mind. The finaii- cial catastrophe of 1873 suddenly brought the currency question to the front, as one which must be answered if we would secure the return of stable prosperity; and the number of men, either in legislative or in executive position, who were then able to show that they had fairly investigated it and thought it out in the light of scientific principles, might almost be counted upon the fingers. The discussions which followed showed that the mass of public men were dealing with it, either with the audaci- ty of unconscious ignorance or with the timidity of that which is conscious. The published debates exhibit our Congress for two sessions laboring painfully with sophisms which other countries disposed of half a century ago, and finally resorting to action which fails to be mischievous only because it has thus far been nugatory. The majority still drift upon the sea of doubt, without compass and without any directing impulse save such as may come from the veering gusts of popular feeling; and it is with this as the prevailing condition of opinion among the majority of our most conspicuous leaders on both sides, that we finish the first century of our national existence. But that our statesmen have been incapable of taking any consistent action upon the currency question, and that every ma- terial interest is thus placed at the mercy of chance, is not, to our mind, the most serious evil resulting from this state of things. What appears to us most threatening is the sceptical turn thus given to opinion among the mass of our people. What is the ordinary voter to think of a subject which he him- self finds dark, and as to which those whose opinion he is apt to follow either talk antiquated nonsense to him, or tell him that nothing is settled? Add to this the fact that one half of the present political generation have come upon the stage since we abandoned specie, and have had no other experience to en- 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. 145 lighten them, and we cannot wonder that the currency seems to the mass a subject on which mankind have learned nothing, and that the plainest proposition of reason confirmed by his- tory may any day be talked about as an opeim question. The scepticism of searching inquiry is not to be feared; but the incredulity of ignorance multiplies tenfold the difficulty of the task of restoring the financial health of the nation. In the case of the currency question, then, it appears that the subject from the first came before our public men in a form which seemed to make its political bearings too importaPt to be subordinated to any scientific treatment. The same might be said of the tariff discussion, which, apart from its inevitable complication with individual interests, has never failed also to present itself in such sectional or party relations as to make its settlement turn largely upon far other considerations than those of general principle. Whether this complication has been the result of some untoward chance, or has come from the errors of our statesmen themselves, we need not now inquire; in either case the effect is the same. Under our form of government these two questions of currency and tariff cover most of the space within which those charged with national affairs have been called upon to investigate and apply economic laws. No doubt, important topics lie within the domain of State legislation; but there the adoption of any general theory, however sound, has been impracticable from the nature of the case. It is a part of the price which we necessarily pay for the advantages of our federal system, that under it questions of essentially general interest, such as those of taxation, education, or poor-relief; are classed as merely local, and are therefore not subject to any one control- ling authority. With the two great questions of national econ- omy, then, prejudged or inextricably bound up with other issues, it is hardly surprising that our statesmen should have neglected the investigation of this subject, so that it is to-day easier to find well-read economists among our men of business than among public mcii of equally good general education, although the inducement to such pursuits should not prop- erly be any stronger in one case than in the other. It is necessary, however, to look deeper than this for the VOL. cxxii. NO. 250. 10 146 .Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. reason of the general sterility of American thought upon this subject, and the failure of our scholars as well as statesmen to contribute their share in the progress made l)y the world. For the explanation of this we must look to the causes which have made the progress of the United States so slow in philosophy, in the pure mathematics, and in abstract science generally, in philology, in the more recondite historical investigations, and in the higher generalizations in physics. Our position as a nation charged with the business of subduing a new world, and the rapid material development which has attended our success in this work, have given to our life for the greater part of the century an intensely practical aspect. Practical objects, and puPsuits which are believed to be practical, have occupied the first place, almost as a necessity of our external condtions. It has been well remarked that some of our best achievements in natural science have been in those directions in which the prom- ise of some material gain has afforded the stimulus,as, for example, in economic geology, to which so powe~rful an impulse has been given by our eagerness to know the resources offered by our vast territory. Under such an influence as this it is but natural that the moral sciences should develop slowly. Nor could we expect that among these sciences political economy should outstrip the others. Broad as are its applications in the actual affairs of life, it is mastered and fruitfully studied best as an abstract inquiry. The thorough student soon finds that it is necessarily an investigation as to the direction which human volitions will take under given conditions, and that for its successful prosecution lie must first direct his attention to the mind itself, finding in the complex phenomena of society the test but not the grounds for his conclusions. Especially has this been the necessary character of the study during the last century,,while the work to be done was that of de~ermin- ing the fundamental principles of the science. Such a pursuit, at any rate in the stage from which it has hardly yet emerged, must needs appear remote from the present interests of a nation like Ours, and could not offer an attractive field for scholars under the influence of a young and vigorous national life. Thus it has happened that not a few of our inquirers have either been unwilling to recognize this essentially abstract 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 l87f~. 147 character of the investigation, and so havo vainly sought to re- model the science, or else have strained its conclusions by the attempt to give them a practical bearing in advance of what their development would allow. In either case the wrong road has been taken, and the result has been failure and disappoint- ment. J.Ience, too, the occasional aspirations for an American political economy, or for a peculiarly national economy under any name, ending in nothing but fresh proof of the impos~i- bility of stating the application of any scientific law under special conditions, until the nature of the law has first been thoroughly investigated, abstraction being made of all acci- dents of time, place, or disturbing influences. Indeed, the strongly practical direction given to every pur- suit in American life has not only served to turmi our statesmen and scholars away from work in the field of political economy, hut has also given a marked character to such work as they have done in that field. In the application of settled or accepted principles to special questions, particularly to ques- tions of importance in politics, many of our writers have shown great skill. Examples of this kind of success in a narrowed field of definite practical relations may be found in the writings of Hamilton and Gallatin already referred to, in Henry Lees report written in 1827 for the Boston committee in opposition to an increase of duties, in the valuable reports of Mr. Wells on the revenue system, in E. B. Bigelows strong presentation of the protectionist argument, and in Grosvenors application of the crucial test, Does Protection Protect? It is hardly too much to say that our best work is to be found in our pamphlets and occasional essays, and not in our systematic treatises, so powerful has been the stimulus of practical objects, and so weak the inducements to abstract philosophical inquiry. To the same influence must we ascribe the exceptional success sometimes attained in statistical inquiry, from the famous report of John Quincy Adams in 1821 on weights and meas- ures, to some important discussions by Dr. Jarvis, and the admirable work done by General Walker on the census of 1870. The fact must be ~taken into account, moreover, that de- ficiency in our comprehension of scientific reasoning and con- 148 Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. clusions is perhaps less readily realized in political economy than in any other science. That its vocabulary is drawn from the language of popular discourse, and is therefore peculiarly liable to equivocal use and consequent vitiation of the whole process of reasoning, unless strictly guarded, has not only beeii an abundant source of misconception and error among econo- mists themselves, but causes those who are unfamiliar with the st~hject to think that they have mastered its terms long before they can fairly claim any such mastery. The conceptions with which political economy deals are also sul)jects of every-day contemplation, on which every one must needs reason more or less, and as to the bearing of which in their broad scientific relations self-deception is peculiarly easy. The senator who calmly announced a couple of years ago that he had given his leisure for an entire fortnight to the currency question, and had thus been enabled to sound its depths, preFented, after all, only an egregious type of the difficulty with which in this sub- ject one acquires the knowledge that he knows nothing. This does not spring from any peculiar obscurity to be found in the subject itself, but from the fact that in dealing with it the mind is apt to begin with the tendency to misapprehension to which we have referred, which must first be overcome; just as the Copernican theory had to make its way against the sup- posed ability of every man to determine its falsity by the seem- ing evidence of his own eves. And while this is not a peculi- arity of the study of political economy in our own country or, our own language, but everywhere impedes its progress, it is easy to see that, among a people who are predisposed to neglect, or to examine only superficially, whatever does not offer directly practical results, a science which under the most favorable circumstances is subject to such embarrassment, must lend itself with especial readiness to the prevailing disposition. Americans are disposed to neglect the higher mathematics as unpractical; but they do not imagine that they understand the subject. Political economy they are disposed to neglect for the same reason, and all the more because they flatter them- selves that they already have it at command. The failure of the American mind to aid in the development of political economy is not then necessarily the result of any 1870.] Economic Science in America, 1770 187G. 149 lack of original adaptation, hut a natural effect of our environ~ ment. And we must observe that while material conditions have thus led to the neglect of the science, they have also led our people, scholars as well as others, into some serious miscon- ceptions as to the direct bearing of economic laws. From our holding the position, unique among the great powers, of a peo- ple developing a rich and virgin territory, the conclusion often seems to be drawn that if the operation of such laws be not actually suspended in the United States, they can at any rate be disregarded with comparative safety. Few men outside of Congress or off the political stump will maintain the absurdity that for a new country like ours there is a different set of such laws from those which obtain in the Old World; but there is an unquestionably great amount of mischief done by the knowl- edge that the lusty growth of the nation will repair the injuries caused by economic blunders. Whatever follies our statesmen commit, the bounty of nature and the rapid increase of num- bers incident to this stage of our growth soon cure the evil; its traces are soon overgrown, and we seem to ourselves to have suffered nothing. Are we not richer and our States more populous than ever ?it is asked; how then can we be said to have lost? And it is not surprising that the sense of risk to be incurred by the mistakes of ignorance shoMd be weak- ened, when it is found by experience that few such mistakes can bring our national expansion to an actual stop. Where the concerns of a nation are conducted in a deep, strong, favorable current of the national energies and impulses, writes a critic in this Review of the last generation, progress may be made, notwithstanding the mismanagement of the sails, oars, and rud- der. This is precisely and pre-eminently the case in the United States, where the spontaneous, productive, onward energies are in greater activity than in any other country. The idea thus frankly avowed, that the management of our resources is of little account, so long as we find ourselves sweeping along with the current of growth, has been for years the habitual consola- tion of our public men, if not an article of their faith. That it easily leads to indifference as to the monitions of economic law is sufficiently obvious. How complete our disregard of economic law has been, and 160 Economic Science in America, 17761876. [Jam. how little we owe our brilliant advance in wealth and power to the wisdom with which we have used our fortunate position, may easily be seen. The manner in which the currency, the life-blood of industrial ciPculation, has from the first been left practically to shift for itself has already been noticed. As a consequence there is no evil incident to a vicious currency, from the inability to procure the means of exchange for daily transactions on the one hand, to the wildest abuse of depre- ciated paper on the other, to which our body politic has not bceii 8u1)jected. And that the vigor of youth has enabled it to sur- vive such disorders and even to recover its thriving condition has only seemed to give fresh encouragement to rash experi- ments on its endurance. In the matter of protection to man- ufactures neither protectionist nor free-trader would be willing to take the responsibility for the general result; for in fact neither has been able to secure adherence to his system. Six radical changes of our customs tariff, six reversals of policy, have occurred in the last sixty years. The present tariff, dat- ing from 1861, already approaches the extreme of longevity, and, if we may judge from the past, must soon foh1o~v its prede- cessors, each of whom once appeared as strong and as firmly established as itself. In these successive revolutions we have seen industi~ies artificially excited to a premature and tin- healthy activity, and we have seen them laid waste by the with- drawal of the stimulus. Who can measure the misdirected labor, the destroyed capital, to repair which we have fallen back after pach change of tariff upon those natural resources which no folly of management could exhaust! If we turn from the tariff to our internal taxation, where the adoption of sound principles has rarely been embarrassed by sectional or political considerations, the state of things is still more extraordinary. Down to the year 1861 the United States appear to have learned nothing as to taxation. Their burdens were gener- ally too light to cause serious uneasiness, except in some cities, and the average legislature is tolerably well steeled against the complaints of city interests. Since the year 1861 the rapid increase of taxes in every form has attracted the attention of our people, but they are not yet sensible that their methods of taxation are antiquated and the machinery ineffi 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. 151 dent, that their systems lead to extraordinary inequalities, and often rest upon theories which fail of being ridiculous only because of their flagrant injustice. Ingenuity in preventing the cscape of any taxable person or thing has been carried to a high point; the art of adjusting the burden so that it may he most easily borne has never been studied by any State legis- lature or by Congress. That our people have been able to en- dure this neglect of one of the first duties of good government, is due solely to the abundance of their resources, which for the present are al)le to withstand the effects of such waste by taxation as, in a country with lower profits, would be a serious check upon industry. Here, again, we rely for impunity on the rude health of youth. And as a final illustration of our easy- going defiance of sound principle, we may cite the continuance of slavery as the industrial system of the Southern States, until its unexpected destruction by war. Nothing can be more cci- tam than that slavery was an economic blunder of the first magnitude. It notoriously stunted the social development of the communities where it existed, checked all tendency to diversification of employments by discouraging all pursuits except those least advanced, and craved for its successful work- ing constant transfer of its exhausting cultivation to fresh soil. Leaving out of view its moral aspect, there can be no doubt that slavery, economically considered, was the most efficient system yet seen for simply taking the cream from productive powers, which under wise management are of unlimited dura- tion. What this perseverance in a wasteful use of our resources has cost us, directly and indirectly, may be partly seen by com- paring the splendid natural advantages of the Southern States with their present impoverished condition. It may doubtless be said that we are not the only people who in the past century have committed errors of this kind and on a great scale. But we are the only people who with a light heart have trusted to the energy of growth to insure us against tl~e effects of present mistake, and have therefore steadily neglected to cultivate one of the most important branches of the s~ience of government. As a consequence, we find ourselves to-day absolutely incapable of following out, for example, such a firm and judicious course of management 15~ Econornsc Science in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. as that by which France is re-establishing her finances on a solid basis, after a calamity in which all but the name of the French nation seemed to have disappeared. Not forced like others to count closely with our resources, we have in effect forgotten how to count with them at all, and are every day confessing our inability to deal with a practical problem, which has been promptly answered by others far less favored, either in material or in political conditions, than ourselves. That under such circumstances we should have added nothing to the worlds knowledge of political economy is not surprising. The surroundings have not been incompatible with the prosecu- tion of such a study, but they have not been such as to pro- mote it. For that purpose something more is needed than the mere presence of great resources and of rapidly increasing wealth. The profound significance of the investigation as bearing upon the right use of resources must be realized, as it has not been among us, before we can expect that it will be pursued with much effect. Elsewhere this lesson has been impressed upon statesmen and scholars by the sternness of nature or the approach to the limits of her bounty, or by the necessity of dealing with the consequences of generations of misrule. But it is a lesson no more easily learned by a nation in the full luxuriance and strength of its early growth, than is that of obedience to the laws of physical health in the first flush of youth. As the result of our failure to reckon closely with forces which will finally assert their presence, we find ourselves, at the close of our first century, falling manifestly short of the devel- opment to which our exuberant vitality might easily have car- ried us. In every case it was with seeming impunity that we offended against the laws of our well-being; but as the conse- quence of the whole, our statisticians are now accounting for missing millions of population, and for the slackening of the growth of wealth. The youth to which we owe our power of ready recovery from the effects of all transgressions i~ also pass- ing away, and it is with a sort of angry surprise that our people note their increasing sensitiveness to the penalties with which economic error is visited. This leads us to the remark, in con- clusion, that most of the conditions to which we have ascribed 1876.] Economic Science in America, 1776 1876. 153 the failure of the United States to contribute to the progress of political economy, being incident to the earlier stages of national life, may henceforth be expected to act with diminish- ing force. The period of the most rapid development of wealth once passed, we may expect the practical pursuits of life, or those ~vhich now seem to be such, to become less absorbing, and the tendency to enter upon deeper and more abstract investigations to strengthen. Already in our older States, which are farthest removed from the special conditions which characterize the United States as a whole, we may trace the first effects of this tendency, in their increased devotion to that sound learning and the arts for which the newer States, still in the hurry of swift growth, seem to have little leisure. As this movement strengthens, we may expect to see the moral sciences generally rising towards that proportionate development with respect to physical science which obtains in older countries, and among the moral sciences political economy advancing at least as rapidly as any. To this we shall be driven by mateiial considerations as powerful as those which have thus far re- strained our progress in this subject. As our condition ap- proaches more and more to that of old countries, our ability to rely upon the increasing abundance of our resources to cure all mistakes will disappear, and the mistakes themselves will become obviously costly and formidable. In our case, indeed, they may easily become more formidable in their consequences than elsewhere; for in the coming century an economic blun- der in the United States will be a blunder on a far more por- tentous scale than those of the past, and will work out its con- sequences among political elements which will admit of no trifling. Already our public men are appalled by the respon- sibility of answering such a question as is set them by the cur- rency. But in such a country as we may reasonably believe this will be fifty years hence, and with the dangerous forces now growing within our democracy fairly developed, such a question will be for the men or the party to whom it is offered for answer a very Sphinxs riddle, and failure to solve it will mean political death. It will then no longer be possible for statesmen or scholars to ignore or neglect those economic laws which determine the consequences of our actions. The same 154 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. unfailing operation of historical causes, which in other coun- tries has led to every great step yet made in the progress of economic thought, will produce its effect here. This action may be hastened by the shock of some crisis in national affairs; but if not, the same result must come in the fulness of time. The regular course of our development must, at a point not far distant, disclose to us an imperious necessity for investi- gating the laws of material wealth; and that point being reached, we may confidently expect that the United States will no longer fail to contribute their due share to the advancement of this branch of knowledge. CHARLES F. DUNBAR. ART. V. LAW IN AMERICA, 1776 1876. OF all the varied methods of viewing and discussing the character and extent of our national progress, the one which, in many important respects, is the most deserving of serious at- tention is that which directs us to the consideration of the devel- opment of American jurisprudence. The idea of law must be the one which underlies and affects, to a greater or less degree, all other ideas of popular life, and which imperatively de- mands investigation at the hands of any one who is seeking to get an impression, at once comprehensive and accurate, of the progress of civilization in any age or nation. The history of the jurisprudence of a country must always, of course, be one of the co-ordinates by reference to which we are to measure the direction and extent of national progression or retrogres- sion. Religion, literature, the mechanical arts, the fine arts, science, manners, and dress may all furnish tests by which the inclination of a people in the direction of or away from en- lightenment may be determined; but as none of these have such a practical, universal, and important bearing upon their daily life and daily relations as their system of laws, so none of them can be so safely consulted for the purpose of solving the problems of national life. It is to the ~jurisprudence of a people that we must especially look, if w~ wish to ascertain

154 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. unfailing operation of historical causes, which in other coun- tries has led to every great step yet made in the progress of economic thought, will produce its effect here. This action may be hastened by the shock of some crisis in national affairs; but if not, the same result must come in the fulness of time. The regular course of our development must, at a point not far distant, disclose to us an imperious necessity for investi- gating the laws of material wealth; and that point being reached, we may confidently expect that the United States will no longer fail to contribute their due share to the advancement of this branch of knowledge. CHARLES F. DUNBAR. ART. V. LAW IN AMERICA, 1776 1876. OF all the varied methods of viewing and discussing the character and extent of our national progress, the one which, in many important respects, is the most deserving of serious at- tention is that which directs us to the consideration of the devel- opment of American jurisprudence. The idea of law must be the one which underlies and affects, to a greater or less degree, all other ideas of popular life, and which imperatively de- mands investigation at the hands of any one who is seeking to get an impression, at once comprehensive and accurate, of the progress of civilization in any age or nation. The history of the jurisprudence of a country must always, of course, be one of the co-ordinates by reference to which we are to measure the direction and extent of national progression or retrogres- sion. Religion, literature, the mechanical arts, the fine arts, science, manners, and dress may all furnish tests by which the inclination of a people in the direction of or away from en- lightenment may be determined; but as none of these have such a practical, universal, and important bearing upon their daily life and daily relations as their system of laws, so none of them can be so safely consulted for the purpose of solving the problems of national life. It is to the ~jurisprudence of a people that we must especially look, if w~ wish to ascertain 1876.] Law in America, 17761876. 155 the character of their civilization; and it is therefore to the jurisprudence of the United States of America that we must turn if we wish to be able to say, truthfully and intelligently, whether the great Republic has or has not made real progress during its hundred years of life. The general method of dealing with this subject might be twofold. On the one hand we might consider the advances which law in this country has made in comparison with Eng- lish law, travelling along the same paths and in the same gen- eral directions. That is to say, taking those numerous branches of jurisprudence in which the American has adhered (in the main) to the principles derived from the English system, we might institute a comparison between the advances made by the two. In considering the subject in this light we would look, not to those cases in which the American has departed from the English law, but rather to those in which travelling (so to speak) side by side the one has outstripped, or fallen behind, the other. The question, in such a method of investi- gation, would always be: In which country has the develop- ment been most healthful and proper? We would study to find out, not what new ideas have had their birth upon this side of the Atlantic, but whether, in the first place, old ideas have been improved upon at all, and, if so, to what degree. For example: The idea of modifying the common-law rule by which the husband became the owner, or acquired the right of becom- ing the owner of the wifes personal property, and of securing the enjoyment and control of that property to the wife, is one which has existed for centuAes in English jurisprudence. It took practical shape in the creation, by courts of equity, of what was knowii as the separate use of married women. But in America, before many years in the life of the Republic had passed by, this idea not only appeared in the English chancery dress, but became, also, the subject of statutory enactment, and hence the passage of the numerous Married Womens Acts in nearly all the States of the Union. The fundamen- tal principle already existed, and was being applied in both countries; but while the two systems of jurisprudence were advancing along the same highway and in the same general direction, the American was placed many steps in advance of the 156 Law in America, P76 1876. [Jan. English system by the aid of positive legislation, and the gap, notwithstanding recent enactments in England, has not been quite closed up. Nevertheless, as has been said, the general direction of legal progress, upon this point, has been the same on both sides of the Atlantic. It was admitted, in both coun- tries, to be desirable that, in some way and to some extent, the property of a married woman ought to be her own, and the only question was as to the best means of attaining this result. In England the indisposition to statutory reform in law forced the courts (or, at all events, one set of the courts, those, name- ly, of equity jurisdiction) to redress the grievance, as such it undoubtedly was. With us the tendency towards reformation by legislation led to the adoption of the other method of reme- dying the evil; and we shall see, further on, that this method of attaining the desired end was in accordance with the American tendency to a fondness for legislation which has developed itself, in such a striking manner, during the last fifty years. It cannot be asserted, however, that except in the method of carrying out the reform, there has been, in this instance, any development of a feature distinctively and characteristically American. On the other hand a still more striking and interesting topic is the consideration of the departures of American law from English principles; and the cases here presented would be those in which, from circumstances which it ought to be the task of the student to discover and explain, American jurispru- dence has found the rules of English law unsuited to the con- ditions of American life, has therefore repudiated or modified them, and has established a set of legal rules which may be termed essentially and properly American. This latter view of the general subject is one which would seem to present the greatest attractions to the student, and one which would, with the greatest propriety, be considered the most interesting and instructive at this period of the national existence, when we are occupied in looking for, pointing out, and discussing those fea- tures in the different relations of life which are often grouped together under the somewhat vague term of American insti- tutions. Both methods, however, of dealing with the general subject will have to be, to a certain extent, adopted; and in 1876.] Law in Anzerica, 17761876. 157 endeavoring to find out what are the peculiarities of American law which have grown up or sprung up since our separation from the mother country, and which tend to give our jurispru- dence a national individuality, we shall be compelled to touch upon some points in which the American has advanced beyond, or fallen behind, English law in paths which are common to both. It is a trite remark and one which has been made at many different times and with varying phraseology, that all law is the adaptation of principles of action to the physical and political conditions of a country and to its moral, social, and intellec- tual growth. All national institutions must bear the impress of the outward features of nature by which the inhabitants are surrounded and their modes of life, to a great extent, deter- mined, and must also reflect the inward life of a nation and the external associations and internal consciousness by which that inward life has been moulded. If we were to imagine a man placed, in a savage state, in a new country, and were at liberty to suppose that his individual existence could be sufficiently prolonged to enable him to reach, in his own person, a condition of civilization and en- lightenment, it would seem to be plain that the causes which control this development and determine its character must be sought for, in the first place, in the external physical phenom- ena by which he was surrounded. Whether he were active or slothful, hardy or effeminate, bold or timid, prudent or reck- less, and, so on, would depend, to a measurable degree, upon the inclemency or mildness, the ruggedness or softness, the sterility or fertility, which belonged to the climate, scenery, and soil of the country where he lived. In the next place the nature of the society in which he was thrown, the character of the human beings among whom he was placed, and the events in his history, would enter into the determination of the character of the development. And, finally, his intellectual life, when it came into play (its nature determined by the food upon which it had fed), would make itself felt in its con- tribution to the general sum of his character. So, in a nation, there are three great causes which control and guide the character of national development, first, phys 158 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. ical; second, political, historical, or social; and, third, intellec- tual: for every man must be regarded, first, as a dweller upon the earth; secondly, as a citizen or social being; and, thirdly, as a reasoning being; and it is to the causes which control his life in each of these three aspects that we must look to dis- cover why any one particular side of his life has assumed any particular shape. And this is true in respect to nearly all institutions~ religion, art, literature, and so on. Mr. Buckle has very well and forci- bly pointed out how the physical phenomena by which a people are surrounded influence their religious belief, rendering them more or less sceptical or superstitious, as the case may be; and he has pointed out the further fact that such circumstances as religion, literature, and law are the results, rather than the causes, of civilization, and that the causes of civilization are to be found either in external influences or in internal mental action. Now, as external influences may. come either from inanimate nature or from men with whom we associate, it fol- lows that the external influences may be divided into those which are due to nature (in the sense of the inanimate cre- ation) and to society; so that this view is substantially the same as that which is here suggested, inasmuch as it asserts that the causes of all human progress must be found in nature, in society, and in internal mental action. if this is so, then the development of American law, whether considered in respect to its departures from the law of the mother country, or in respect of its advances upon that law, must be sought for, first, in the physical features of the United States; secondly, in its political or social history; and, lastly, in the intellectual life of the people. The obvious truth must, just here, be borne in mind, that where a people with fixed national characteristics are set down amid new influences, the traditions of the old life which they have left necessarily cling to them for a shorter or a longer period, and that the new influences may sometimes make themselves felt but slowly. Colonists adhere with no little affection and tenacity to the institutions of the mother coun~ try, and the effect of influences, which would otherwise be rapid, becomes necessarily tardy when their growth involves 1876.] Lzw in America, 1776 1876. 159 the destruction of old modes of thought, as well as the estab- lishment of new. Hence it is that, in considering the de- velopment of American law, it may be not unfrequently found that the results which would otherwise have promptly fol-. lowed, have been in many instances retarded by an involuntary adherence to the English laws which the colonists brought over with them. We pass from these preliminary observations to the first of the divisions suggested by the general treatment of the subject indicated above. The differences between the physical or geographical peculiar- ities of England and of this country are numerous, varied, and striking. England is a compact, densely populated island, the geographical features of which are on a small scale, and whose resources, upon which its vast population must depend for sup- port, are of such a character and of so limited an extent as to re- quire to he constantly and carefully husbanded. Its greatest river is but a puny stream compared with the vast water-courses of the Western continent; its waste and vacant lands of a com- paratively limited area; its forests the objects of jealous cpre; and its mines, though great and rich, yet of a measurable ex- tent. Population is dense; labor cheap; wealth unequally distributed. Turning, on the other hand, to our own country, we find a continent of almost boundless area, irrigated, in every direc- tion, by streams of enormous magnitude; with a mineral wealth which is almost illimitable, and a population in all quarters (at least at the date of the separation from the British Crown) extremely sparse. Land was cheap; roads few; tim- ber so abundant as to be something which was to be got rid of as an impediment to improvement, rather than to be looked upon as a subject for protection. The physical differences between the two countries have been and are, in short, enor- mous; and the conditions of life in which the two peoples have found themselves thrown have been, in many instances, as wide as the poles asunder. A priori, therefore,~ these great geo- graphical differences should have had a very considerable effect upon the development of the legal institutions of the two 160 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. countries; and accordingly we find that almost every one of these great differences noted above have been, in fact, produc- tive of peculiarities in American legal principles. One of the most important of these differences between American and English law, due to the geographical peculiarities of our continent, and one which may therefore be selected as a convenient illustration of this branch of the subject, is that which is based upon the character of our great rivers, and the consequent inapplicability of the English test of the ebb and flow of the tide as determining what streams are and what are not, in the eye of the law, to be regarded as navigable waters. This distinction, based upon a physical difference, is of im- portance in two ways: first, in determining the right of riparian owners; and, secondly, as defining the extent of the jurisdiction of the Federal courts in admiralty causes. It will be useful to give a brief notice to each of these two heads, and to occupy some little space in the consideration of this rather dry suW ject. It is well known that, at common law, a navigable river was technically defined to be one in which the tide ebbs and flows. This definition was first laid down in the case of the Royal Fishery of the River Banne (Daviess Reports, 149), and is stated to be the law in the work De Jure Mans et Brachiorum, which has been generally recognized as the authoritative trea- tise upon this subject. It has, indeed, been doubtcd whether even in England the ebb and flow of the tide is to be regarded as the only test of the navigability of rivers. In a learned work, Mr. Houck, of the St. Louis bar, has pointed out the fact that the generally received opinion upon this subject is possibly erroneous, and that it is a mistake to suppose that the sole test of naviga- bility in England was the flux and reflux of the tide. Ac- cording to this writer, the true test in England would be public user; and that when such user exists the stream must be considered navigable in law, independently of the question of tides. It must be observed, however, that the most recent English treatises in which the subject is noticed (Hunt on Boundaries, p. 16; Hall on the Sea-Shore, edition of 1875, by Loveland, pp. 4, 13), the ebb and flowof the tide is still con- 1876.] Law in America, 17761876. 161 sidered a test of navigability, and the conclusions of Mr. buck should probably be received with some caution. The question is not material for the purpose of the present examination, for it is undoubtedly true as an historical fact that, heretofore, in judicial reasoning in this country, and in the views of text- writers, it has been assumed that such was the test of the English law, and it is from this principle (whether correctly or in correctly ascribed to English jurisprudence) that certain of the American 3ourts, as we are about to mention, have taken their departure. It resulted from the English rule that the ownership of ri- parian proprietors was held to extend to the middle of the stream; and this view of the rights of riparian owners, under the geographical features in this respect which existed in England, worked no injustice. But in the United States most of the great rivers are actu- ally navigable far above tide water; and to apply the conclu- sion of the English law in reference to the rights of riparian owners would, under such a condition of things, be produc- tive of great injustice. Hence in many of the States of the Union the English test has been discarded, and the navi- gability in law of rivers has been held to depend upon naviga- bility in fact; and hence, as a corollary to this proposition, the rule has been laid down that in those streams which were in fact navigable the rights of riparian owners were limited by the shore, and did not extend ad medium filum aquw. It is in- teresting to notice, on the one hand, the common-sense depart- ure from the English rule in some States, and, on the other, the difficulty with which inherited law (so to speak) has been shaken off. The earliest case in which the English doctrine upon this subject was repudiated, as being inapplicable to the physical features of this country, was Carson v. Blazer (2 Binney, 475), decided by the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania in 1810. In this case the plaintiff claimed an exclusive right of fishing. in the Susquehanna River, opposite land owned by him; and the contention in favor of the enjoyment of this right was expressly based upon the fact that the Susquehanna was not a tide-water river, and that consequently, according to the rules VOL. CXXII. NO. 250. 11 162 Law inAmerica,1776 1876. [Jan. of the common law, the ownership of riparian proprietors extended to the middle of the stream, and that, therefore, fishing by another party, opposite the. plaintiffs land, was an infringement of this right. But Chief Justice Tilghman declined to be governed by this argument, and took the broad and common-sense view, that the size and character of fresh- water rivers (such as the Susquehanna), in this country, ren- dered the English rule totally inapplicable; in other words, the general proposition was recognized that the rules of the com- mon law which had been, in general, adopted must necessarily, in certain cases, be modified by the geographical conformations of the country. This modification of the common-law doctrine has been recognized by the Supreme Court of the United States, and especially in the comparatively recent case of The Daniel Ball, decided in 1870, and reported in 10 Wallace, 557. The facts of the case were these: The Act of Congress of July 7, 1838, provides, in its second section, that it shall not be lawful for the owner, master, or captain of any vessel, propelled in whole or in part by steam, to transport any merchandise or passengers upon the bays, lakes, rivers, or other navigable waters of the United States, after a certain date, without a license, with a proviso for the recovery of a penalty and the forfeiture of the vessel, in case of such violation. The Daniel Ball, a vessel propelled by steam, was engaged in navigating Grand River, in the State of Michigan, between the cities of Grand Rapids and Grand Haven, without a license, and it was to recover the penalty, consequent upon the alleged violation ot~ the aforesaid act of Congress, that this action was brought. The libel described Grand River as a navi- gable water of the United States; and the answer, inter alia, denied that the said river was such a navigable water. It was admitted in the argument, on behalf of the libelled vessel, that the term navigable water included not simply the tide waters, as is understood by it In England, but also the great fresh-water lakes and rivers of our country; and that, in a still broader sense, the term was applicable to every stream or body of water susceptible of being made, in its natural con- dition, a highway for commerce. But it was contended that 18T6.] Law in America, 1VT6 18T6. 163 the term was used in contradistinction to domestic waters, and implied a capacity in the stream, in reference to which it was used, for the carrying on of commerce between States. The Supreme Court, however, held that the term navigable river~~ was applicable to Grand River; and the opinion of Mr. Justice Field is useful, in the present connection, not so much in laying down the law that the navigability of a stream, within the meaning of the act of Congress, does not depend upon the circumstance that the stream may or may not furnish the means of intercommunication between States, but as giving an expression to the views entertained by the highest tribunal of the country as to the original test of navigability prescribed by the law of England, and as to the applicability, or rather inap- plicability, of that test to the condition of things in the United States. The doctrine of the common law, as to the navi- gability of waters, say the court, has no application to this country. here the ebb and flow of the tide do not constitute the usual test, as in England, or any test at all, of the navi- gability of waters. There no waters are navigable in fact, or at least to any considerable extent, which are not subject to the tide, and from this circumstance tide water and navigable water there signify, substantially, the same thing. But in this country the case is widely different. * In some States the law upon this subject has been subject to very considerable fluctuations. Such has been the case in New York, where, however, the rule seems to have been at last settled in favor of what may be termed the American doctrine; and also in South Carolina, where one or two recent decisions appear to be in conflict with the anti-common-law rule established in the earlier cases. The different States of the Union may, upon this point, be divided into those in which the common-law rule has been adhered to, either by judicial decision or in obedience to some statute, and those in which it has been repudiated. The first class includes nearly all of the New England States, two or three Western States, and, of the Southern States, Mississippi and Virginia. Under the second class are embraced New York, Pennsylvania, many of the Southern, and one or two of the Western States. It is a little singular to remark that * See also The Montello, 20 Wallace, 430. 164 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. the Supreme Court of Kentucky, in the case of Berry v. Snyder (3 Bush, 266), decided in 1867, applied the common- law doctrine to the determination of the rights of riparian owners on the shores of so great a river as the Ohio. In spite, however, of the adherence to the common-law rule in some of the States, and of the fluctuations of the law in others, it may be fairly said that the tendency of American law is in favor of the position assumed in Carson v. Blazer, and that whenever the question is squarely brought before the courts, the dis- position is to admit the force of the argument founded on the physical peculiarities of the country. Passing now to the question of jurisdiction, as affected by the rule now under consideration, we find that in the courts of the United States the common-law doctrine has been dis- tinctly repudiated. By the Constitution of the United Stated the judicial power of the Federal courts was extended to all cases of admiralty and maritime jurisdiction ; and in the infancy of the Republic the question was, What is the extent of the admiralty juris- diction thus secured to the courts of the United States? It was, at first, the universal opinion that this jurisdiction was limited by tide water, and that constitutionally it could not be extended further. But in the great case of The Genessee Chief (12 Howard, 457), decided in 1851, this question was finally set at rest and the doctrine finally established that the jurisdiction, as conferred on the Federal courts by the Consti- tution, extends wherever ships float and navigation successfully aids commerce, whether internal or external. It was, in that case, pointed out that the basis of the limitation of the admiralty jurisdiction in England to tide waters was the geo- graphical fact that, in that country, tide water and navigable water were synonymous terms, and tide water, with a few small and unimportant exceptions, meant nothing more than public rivers, as distinguished from private ones. And it was further noticed, that the same physical basis for the rule not existing in this country, it would be absurd to apply such a rule where the foundation, whereon it might rest, was want- ing; and that the change of law, in this particular, was but the application of the familiar legal maxim, ces8ante rations 1876.] Law in America, 1776 1876. 165 cessat et ipsa lex. The decision in the case of The Genessee Chief has been recognized and followed in subsequent authori- ties, and the departure of American from the English law upon this subject is thoroughly established. The law of navigable waters has been used as an illustration of the effect of the physical features of the country upon the departures of American law from the principles of English jurisprudence; and some little prominence has been given to this topic, because it is one which has not only received the mature and deliberate consideration of the highest tribunal in the country, but is one also which most suitably illustrates the influence of the geography of a nation upon its laws. Hence it has been selected as typical of the changes which have been produced by this cause. Other examples, however, of this direct influence may be readily pointed out. Thus wl~ile,in England, a tenant for life or the holder of other limited estates was not permitted to cut down timber (except for reasonable estovers), and such destruction was considered waste, and was deemed so grave an offence as to be punishable with forfeiture of the place wasted for the benefit of the remainder-man or reversioner, whose inheritance was supposed to be thereby damnified, in the United States, the dense growth of forests in a new country, and the fact that the clearing away of timber, so far from being an injury to land, was a necessity for its use and development, rendered the application of such a rule absurd. This impossibility of applying the English law of waste has been recognized in most of the courts of this country; and hence it has been generally held that the cutting down of tim- ber, for the purpose of clearing and cultivation, is to be re- garded as a proper use of land by a tenant with a limited estate, and as not constituting that injury to the inheritance which should be coftsidered, in a technical sense, waste. So also in the case of mines; while in England the opening of new mines on demised lands is waste at common law, on this side of the Atlantic the tendency is to regard such a user of realty as proper and lawful on the part of one having only a limited estate therein, in cases where the value of the prop- erty depends altogether, or very much, upon the min~erals which it contains. 166 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. We pass, now, from the discussion of the direct and obvious effects which the geographical characteristics of the country have had upon American law, to the consideration of others of a more indirect and derivative character. A very brief notice of one or two of these indirect effects will serve as illustra- tions of this part of the subject. And, in the first place, the subjection of lands to the pay- ment of debts, in which American has so much taken the lead of English legislation, while owing in a very great degree to the historical, social, and political associations and institu- tions of the country must partly, at least, be ascribed to the abundance of land. That in some portions of our country there is a certain sacredness which attaches to land, that this feeling is growing (especially in the Atlantic States) with the growth of population, and is being fostered even amid the plentiful abundance of land in the West, by homestead and exemption laws, may be conceded; but the sentiment which exists here is as nothing compared with the reverence which the landowner or even landholder in England feels for acres which have been his and his ancestors, from generation to generation. And in very many parts of the United States no such feeling exists at all; for in the West, at all events, the facility with which land is obtained detracts very much from the pride of its acquisition, lessens the importance of its pos- session, and necessarily takes away, in a proportionate degree, from the bitterness of its loss. The man who has seen his predecessors acquire vast tracts by the exercise of a pre-emp- tion right at a nominal figure, and who has, himself, the al- most boundless West before him, with the indefinite chance of squatter privileges beyond the limits of civilized settlements, not only lacks any sentiment of attachment to the soil, but is pressed by no practical necessity whereby such a sentiment might be produced and fostered. Hence it has followed that the legislation of the American States has tended, with almost universal uniformity, towards the subjection of land to the payment of debts, and that the results which have only been reached in England during a comparatively recent period were attained in this country from (it might almost be said) the earliest times in our colonial history. Of course, this tardi 1876.] Law in America, 1776 1876. 167 ness in the English law, and the tenacity with which it clung to the exemption of the land of a decedent from the payment of his debts, were due, in a very great extent, to the influence of ideas derived from the feudal system, and to the constitu- tion of society which that system produced; and the advances made by American law are to be ascribed in no small degree to the absence of such social influences in this country. But the difference is not, perhaps, to be altogether accounted for by considerations of such a character, and is to be set down, in a very great degree, to the credit of the abundance of real estate, the facility with which it can be acquired and disposed of, and the consequent little value which is attached to it by the holders. To this same cause may also be partly attributed the facility of alienating land which obtains throughout the United States. It is true that the whole theory of the feudal system was op- posed to the easy alienation of real property, and it is equally true that the non-existence of that system in the United States has contributed vastly towards the unfettering of lands and their free transmission from hand to hand; and therefore it may be said and truthfully said that the departure of Amer- ican from the English law in this respect is due largely to political and not to geographical causes. But as in England the comparative scarcity of real estate fortified the results which the feudal doctrines had already produced, so in this country the extent and consequent cheapness of land strength- ened the anti-feudal feeling to which the social institutions of the country had given birth. In other words, land has, in this country, become an article of commerce, not solely from the absence of those principles of the feudal law which fostered restraints upon alienation, and whose abrogation in this coun- try was due to political causes, but also from the fact of the extent of the country and from the result which flowed natu- rally from that fact, namely, that there was produced a mar- ket for real estate. When real estate became an article of commerce and speculation, when a man bought land, not for the solemn purpose set forth in fee-simple deeds, to hold to him and his heirs forever, but with the design of cutting it up into town lots, or founding a real-estate association, or 168 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. launching a mining company or a cemetery; when transac- tions in this species of property became so rapid and extensive that the title to thousands of acres, worth millions of dollars, passed through scores of owners in a few days or possibly a dozen hours, it is not to be wondered that the business exi- gencies of the community forced the law to adapt itself to them, and that the title to land became almost as capable of rapid and informal transmission from hand to hand, as the owner- ship of a bale of merchandise or the title to a promissory.note. No one can look through the law reports of some of our States without being struck with the facility with which articles of agreement for the sale of land passed between vendor and purchaser, and answered the purpose of more formal title deeds. The manner in which in Pennsylvania (for example) these articles (or rather the title of which they were the evidence) were sold, pledged, mortgaged, surrendered, as- signed, levied upon, and disposed of in every imaginable way, is a forcible illustration of the method in which the wants of a community comp,el a rapid and easy working of legal inachin- ery; but, as before stated, this facility for alienation is un- doubtedly due, not only to the political, but to the geographical characteristics of the country. We must leave this branch of the general subject with the above hasty illustrations of it. They are sufficient, perhaps, to show the soundness of the proposition already stated, that the external or physical peculiarities of the North American continent have influenced the character and development of American law. What the extent of that influence has been, and through what more detailed and intricate ramifications it might be traced, may be readily conjectured; but such an am- plification of the topic must be abandoned, for the purpose of passing to the consideration of the other main heads of the subject. The peculiarities of American law which are due to the po- litical history of the nation, while important, are of a some what obvious and commonplace character; and it would seem, therefore, to be sufficient to dismiss them with a brief notice. The changes in the common law, affecting private rights, which 1876.] Law in America, 1776 1876. 169 have occurred in consequence of the character of the political institutions of America, took place at such an early period in our history, and were so complete and thorough, that they have about them little or nothing of a present progressive na- ture, and therefore furnish few or no indications of the future tendencies of American jurisprudence. It is undoubtedly true that the political institutions of the country have had an effect, and a very decided effect, upon the nature and the development of the American intellect; and as this intellectual development has made itself felt in jurisprudence, and has given to it some of the peculiarities by which it is distinguished from the jurisprudence of England or of the nations of the European Continent, it is therefore also true, as a necessary corollary, that these political institutions have thus had a very great in- direct, as well as direct, effect upon jurisprudence. But as this effect has been produced through the medium of the intellec- tual life of the nation, it will be proper to reserve its consider- ation until that branch of the general subject is reached. At present, we have to do with one or two obvious and direct consequences which followed from the political history of the country. When the political structure, then, of American society was altered by the Revolution and by the subsequent establishment of the Constitution of the United States, the effect of the change was to produce certain modifications of the rules of law in regard to private rights which the change in the form of government rendered necessary, or, at all events, expedient. Not that these changes in the law of private rights were due solely to the Revolution and to the establishment of the pres- ent form of government, for they may, in many instances, be traced to ideas which flourished in the Colonies during the ante-Revolutionary period; and these ideas were themselves the outgrowth of changed political conditions which had ex- isted from very early periods in colonial history. Accordingly we find that, in several cases, the modifications of the com- mon law which grew out of peculiarities in the political condi- tion of the American people can be traced to causes which were in existence prior to the separation of the Colonies from the British crown. 170 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. Of these modifications one of the first, the most natural, and the most important which took place, was that which abro- gated the third c~on of descent in the English law, the right of primogeniture. The whole spirit of the institutions of this country was so much opposed to the doctrine, it was so contrary to that principle of equality which was the mainspring of American civil government, that it was abrogated from very early times. The influence of the doctrine did not, however, immediately disappear. The law of primogeniture prevailed in some of the Colonies until the Revolution, and even for several years after that date the eldest son was in many of the States distinguished by a right to receive a double portion; and this right, which was spoken of as being according to the law of nature and the dignity of birthright, was not abolished until several years after the Revolution. Thus, such was the law of Pennsylvania until 1794, and in Connecticut until 1792. Estates tail lingered in some States for many years afterwards; and, while ordinary fees descended to all children equally, a limitation was still capable of being made by which real estate would descend to the eldest son, in obedience to the statute of Westminster II., and according to the form of the gift. The influence of American political institutions, however, has nearly altogether done away with these lingering relics of the English feudal system, and the laws of nearly all the States of the Union have, under this influence, reached a state of uni- formity upon this branch of the law of descents. Another of the English canons of descent was also abol- ished, namely, that which required title by descent to be de- rived from a person last seized. This rule was of purely feudal origin. The whole system of the enjoyment and trans- mission of real estate according to the early English law was, as is well known, based upon the idea that it was a gift to the fendatory by the lord. The gift was in the earliest times for life only; and even where the gift came subsequently to be made to one and his heirs, the heir was originally considered as taking rather by the immediate bounty of the donor, by which he had been included in the gift, than by any transmission of title from his deceased ancestor. One form of this prevailing idea continued to exist in copyhold lands, where upon every fresh 1876.] Law in America, 1776 1876. 171 descent the heir did not acquire the absolute right until after admittance to the estate by the lord of the manor. Now. it was considered. as the lords privilege to know who was going to hold the fee, as it was his right to see that no one intruded therein who was not a person fit and likely to perform the necessary services of tenure. Investiture by the lord was the solemn declaration that the party receiving it had been selected as tenant. The maxim that required the heir to trace his de- scent to the person last seized was, therefore, simply a substi- tution for the rite of investiture; for where this could be shown, the ancestor having received the actual gift from the lord, and assumed the position of tenant, the heir also was supposed to be in by virtue of the same gift and with the lords sanction. This rule was obviously entirely out of place in the condi- tions of life in which the people of America have found them- selves. Accordingly it may be said to have been universally abandoned; in some instances (as in New York) the change having been made b~ statute, in others having been accom- plished by virtue of the common law of the State. The two examples which have been given from the English canons of descent are, perhaps, sufficient illustrations of the mode in which the political history of the country has modified the laws relating to private rights. As has been already stated, the change in such particulars has been complete and decisive, and furnishing as it does little or no suggestions for future reformation in jurisprudence, may be profitably abandoned for the consideration of a more interesting subject. We have seen how the physical features of the North Amer- ican continent have influenced the development of the juris- prudence of this country, and have produced in it departures from the English system; and we have also noticed, with great brevity, how similar results have followed from the change in the social and political circumstances of the country which had its rise in the early periods of the colonial annals, and which culminated in the great historical events of the latter part of the eighteenth century. There still remains to be considered the most important and also the most interesting side of the present subject, namely, the effect produced upon American 172 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. law by the development of the intellectual portion of the American character. In examining the effect produced upon the laws of our land by its geography and history we have found, in most instances, that the character of this effect was that some common-law rule or principle, which was or was thought to be, inapplicable, was abrogated, and a new and in many cases totally different principle or rule substituted in its place. On the other hand, in considering that portion of the progress of American law which is due to our intellectual life, we shall find that this progress has sometimes displayed itself in the invention or creation of new ideas, and sometimes in the ingrafting of reforms upon old ones. This general branch of the subject, therefore, embraces not so much those cases in which the peculiarities of American law are developed, as those in which American jurisprudence has shown the twofold spirit of origi- nality and of reformation. That American jurisprudence has possessed and displayed the spirit of originality, and that this originality is due rather to internal or mental causes than to those which are external or physical, cannot be doubted. American philosophy affected American law. The studies of men who in the infancy of the Republic guided political events, the bent of their intellects, the philosophical doctrines which they imbibed, and the modes of thought which they brought to the consideration of the problems of government which were then presented to them, necessarily made themselves felt in guiding the direction and controlling the extent of the advances of American jurispru- dence, and necessarily also produced what may be justly termed an American intellect which had qualities and characteristics peculiarly its own and not borrowed from European mental growth. To examine the subject thoroughly would require a profound and prolonged study of the movement of European philosophy in the eighteenth century, and of the effect which this movement had upon the American Revolution; but even a cursory and somewhat superficial glance will be fruitful of suggestions of no common interest and, possibly, of lessons of no slight importance. During the eighteenth century, and perhaps earlier, the 1876.] Law in America, 1776 1876. 173 American mind had acquired ideas upon (among other things) the science of government which appear to be of indigenous growth. Certainly they cannot be traced, with any distinct- ness and accuracy, to any intellectual influence coming from England or from France. A great writer has pointed out and commented upon this fact. After speaking of the general activity of human thought in the eighteenth century, M. Guizot says: The popular sciences soared upwards, and still higher than the sciences mounted the philosophical spirit of the age, haughty and self-willed, aspiring to pervade everything and to regulate everything. Without excitement, without commo- tion, rather by yielding itself to its natural bent, than by forcing itself into new paths, Anglo-America took its place in this grand movement. What was this natural bent of the Anglo-American mind? What place did it seek to take for itself in this grand intellectual movement? That American philosophy had a vigor which was essentially original, and characteristics which, while influenced by the general tendencies of European thought, were not borrowed directly from Euro- pean sources, may be shown by reference to one or two familiar examples. Thus, in criminal jurisprudence the American mind has always been far in advance of the English in the enlight- ened character and originality of its views. The experiment of substituting hard labor for capital punishment was tried at an early period in Pennsylvania, and was recommended by Jefferson and his co-revisors of the Virginia code in 1779; and the seeds of reform in criminal law, sown at an early date, have borne most luxuriant harvests. A. still more striking illustration of the originality and pro- gressiveness of American philosophical jurisprudence is found in the early legislation upon the subject of public education. In Connecticut, as early as 1672, it was enacted that every township which numbered fifty householders should forthwith appoint one within the town to teach all such children as shall resort to him to write and read, whose wages shall be paid either by the parents or masters of such children, or by the inhabitants in general, by way of supply as the major part of those who order the prudentials of the town shall appoint. Early in the succeeding century additional legislation took 174 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. place in the same State, whereby it was prescribed that schools should be kept open for eleven months in the year, and a tax for their support was directed to be levied. Well might Zephaniah Swift say, Did I know the name of the legislator who first conceived and suggested the idea, I should pay to his memory the highest tribute of reverence and regard I feel a pride to think that my country has been enriched by such a noble discovery. In other ages and in other nations, by great writers and profound thinkers, in Rome, in England, and in France, by Quintilian, by Locke, and by Rousseau, had educational systems been thought over in the recesses of philo- sophical minds and brought to light for the benefit of mankind. But they were systems for the rich and patrician, not for the poor and plebeian; and they were theories rather than sys- tems. The American mind, practical as well as liberal, brought down this boon from the region of speculation and applied it, through the machinery of statute law, to the direct and practi- cal amelioration of mankind. These, however, are but passing illustrations of the original- ity of American thought in jurisprudence. The great fact in the progress of American jurisprudence which deserves special notice and reflection is its tendency towards organic statute law and towards the systematizing of law; in other words, towards written constitutions and codification. It is well known that the spirit of free inquiry (which was the characteristic spirit of the eighteenth century) was, on the other side of the Atlantic, of a theoretical rather than a practical character, arid that the men by whose writings it was illustrated and fostered were those who, either from lack of opportunity or want of ability, had no power to put their teachings into prac- tice. Hence it happened that, while the eighteent.h century was rife with speculations upon government as a science, con- stitutional government, in the sense of a government under and by virtue of a written constitution, was a thing unknown. In America, however, the theory of written constitutions was, at a very early period, practically and successfully applied to the science of government. The first germ of the theory of a government by a written constitution is perhaps to be found in the Fundamental 1876.] Law in America, 1776 1876. 175 Orders adopted on 14th January, 1639, for the government of the three towns of Hartford, Wethersfield, and Windsor, in Connecticut. By this instrument the inhabitants of the three towns doe assotiate and conioyne our selues to be as one Publike State or Commonweith and in our Cinch Affaires to be guided and gourned according to such Lawes, Rules, Orders and Decrees as are thereinafter set forth. This con- stitution endured until the establishment of the Charter gov- ernment in 1665. But the earliest important step in the direction of govern- ment by a written constitution may be considered to be the adoption of a written constitution by Virginia, on June 29, 1776. It is true that in March of the same year a form of government had been adopted in South Carolina, and even prior to the last-mentioned date New Hampshire had prepared and declared in force a system of organic law; but both of these so-called constitutions were of a temporary character, and were in terms only designed to remain in force during the unhappy - and unnatural contest with Great Britain (as the New Hampshire convention expressed it), or until an accommodation between Great Britain and America could be obtained (as was the language used in South Carolina). Virginia must therefore be considered as entitled to the honor of having first given a permanent and satisfactory demonstra- tion of the great governmental theorem that communities can be successfully governed through the medium of a written organic law. It is not forgotten that prior to 1776 written constitutional laws had existed, and written forms of govern- ment had been in practical operation; the circumstance that organic statutes, forming a part of the basis of the English government (such as Magna Charta), had existed for centu- ries; that in the Middle Ages charters (such as those in the Netherlands) had existed; and the other circumstance that written charters or written codes of laws had prevailed in the American Colonies from the period of their earliest settle- ment. But these are facts which do not militate against the proposition above laid down, for the English constitutional statutes only affect to embody a few out of the many funda- mental legal principles upon which its government rests, and 176 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. fall far short of that complete legal framework to which ainne the name of a constitution can be in strictness applied; and the colonial governments, while furnishing illustrations of complete (or attempted complete) political systems, approach, too nearly, mere schemes far the management of municipal corporations which do not depend, either in their original cre- ation or for their permanent endurance, upon any original social compact of the governed. For two capital elements must enter into every true idea of a constitution: namely, first, that it should be created only by the society which is to be governed by it; and, secondly, that it must be subject to alteration only by virtue of, and in accordance with, provisions contained in itself, or, in the absence of such provisions, by the people. If these are the correct tests, and if they are ap- plied to modern European history prior to the American Rev- olution, it will be found that the above proposition is correct; namely, that, prior to the adoption of the Virginia Constitu- tion of 1776, the science of jurisprudence had not yet reached that pitch of practical perfection which enabled a community to reduce the legal framework of society to writing, and to create instruments which should be paramount to the ordinary law- making power, and which should not be altered, save in obedi- ence to methods presented in itself, or by the people. It will, of course be remembered that the experiment had been tried, and that the genius of John Locke had furnished to the Caro- linas a constitution which had been attractive theoretically, but had proved utterly unable to stand the ordeal of practical operation. But Lockes scheme, though a failure, had turned the American mind in the direction of the expediency of writ- ten constitutions, and had developed the idea that, apart from the question of concession from a sovereign, it was desirable that the organic law of a State should be in writing. And this is the idea which has distinguished the Constitution of the United States, and the constitutions of the various States of the Union, from the so-called constitutions which have, during the present century, been granted by European monarchs to their people, and from the charters of. the Middle Ages. It is desirable that constitutions which a people wrest from a despot by whom they have been governed should be put in writing, 1876.] .Law in America, 1776 1876. ITT in order that some fixed and known limits should be estab- lished, by which newly acquired liberties may be guarded; but whether or not a free people should put their organic law in writing is another matter, and depends on other consider- ations. It is purely a question in the science of government. In America the question has been decided in favor of written constitutions. The idea of liberty has, of course, entered largely into the determination of this question; for while in the case of a free people, who are perfectly at liberty to form their own governmental institutions, it is unnecessary to pro- vide against the encroachments of existing despotism, it is, nevertheless, desirable to guard against such encroachments in the future, that is to say, against possible revolutions in favor of absolutism. Yet the primary idea among such a people is (it may be repeated) the purely scientific one, that the theory of good government is more likely to be successfully carried out under a written than an unwritten organic law; and it is the practical and successful application of this theory which must be considered as a .great step forward in the progress of civili- zation made by America. The example of Virginia was followed very shortly in Penn- sylvania, the first written constitution of the latter State having been adopted on September 28, 1776; and nearly all the other States, in following out the recommendation of the Continental Congress of June 14, 1776, to form govern- ments did so by establishing their several political systems upon the basis of written organic law. The example of America in this particular was felt directly, and almost immediately, in Europe. Not only did the ideas of civil liberty, which had sprung up in America during the Rev- olution, penetrate into France, and contribute towards the accomplishment of the revolution in that country, but the still further idea of a government by the means of a written con- stitution took root in France, and has never since been eradi- cated. The first written constitution of that country was adopted on 814 September, 1791. It was essentially a fun- damental instrument. It was preceded by a declaration of rights, and by an express abolition of former institutions, and vOL. CXXII. NO. 250. 12 178 Law in America, 17761876. [Jan. it contained (in Title III., Arts. 1 and 2) averments which indicated its radical and comprehensive character, namely: 1er La souvorainet6 est une, indivisible, inali6nable, et ilnprescrip- tible. Elle appartient iL la nation; aucuno section du peuple ni au- cun individu ne pent sen attribuer lexercice. 2d, La nation, do qui seule ~manent tous los pouvoirs, ne pout les oxercor quo par d6l6gation. La constitution fran~aiso ost repr6- sentativo; los ropr6sontans sont lo corps l6gislatif ot lo roi. It is a matter of history that the ideas of republican govern- mont thus promulgated were derived largely from America, and particularly from Jefferson, who must, it may be remarked, be regarded as the expounder of the system of representative government which was then being established, and which has, since his time, exercised such an important influence through- out the world. How well the system of written constitutions has stood the trials of one hundred years, all the world has seen. We have seen how these organic laws have been amended from time to time, when reformation has been necessary, without seriously impairing the just reverence for constitutional law, which is one of the safeguards of government; and the present generation has witnessed how well such written constitutions have stood the shock and strain of war. Among all the lessons which the world has learned from the progress of the American people, none are of greater value than this, that government by written constitutions is strong enough to restrain human passions in times of the greatest excitement, and, at the same time, mobile enough to be compatible with true progress. Akin to the disposition to crystallize organic law in the form of written constitutions is the disposition to codify municipal law, which has always displayed itself in the legal history of all of the States of the Union. When codification is possible in a nation, it is a proof that it has reached a mature stage in its pro- gress in civilization; it is not evidence (as has been, it is sub- mitted, erroneously asserted) that the people among whom it has thus become possible have reached such a degree of maturity that further development is difficult, if not impracticable. This erroneous idea has been promulgated by a modern writer (D. C. Heron, History of Jurisprudence, page 141), but its unsound-. 1876.] Law in America, 1776 1876. 179 ness may be demonstrated by one of the very examples which is brought forward in its support. The history of France is cited as a proof that, after the adoption of a code, national progress ceases; and France, says the author just quoted, now appears stationary in wealth and population. These words were published in 1860. Eleven years later that nation demonstrated the fallacy of at least one branch of the above proposition, by showing her ability to meet a war indemnity 50 grievous and vast that it seemed almost impossible that any people could avoid being financially ruined by it, but which was met, nay, anticipated, in a manner which must not only redound forever to the credit of the people upon whom it was imposed, but must Je a convincing proof that national wealth, under the system of codification, became in France not only enormous in extent, but capable of being turned with prompti- tude and facility to meet exigencies of the most extraordinary and unforeseen description. So far, therefore, from codification being the proof of an effete or even stationary civilization, it is on the contrary the evidence of intelligent and scientific efforts to meet the legal wants of a progressive age, and to keep the vast mass of laws, constantly increasing in extent and variety by the increasing demands and developments of society, within reasonable and manageable bounds. Codification, to a greater or less extent, must, in truth, become indispensable to any~ nation which draws its laws from varied sources, (and what nation does not?) and which designs or attempts to make the progress of those laws keep pace with the growing wants of the times without developing into a mass of unmanageable and contradictory rules. The practical administration of law de- pends, in a measurable extent, upon its simplicity; and this end can only be attained, and overwhelming complexity and voluminousness avoided, by resorting to the expedient of codifi- cation. Not only does the mass of laws increase with the con- stant increase in number and complexity of the relations of life produced by modern civilization, but the sources and in- struments of law are continually accumulating by the system of preserving decisions and multiplying reports. No nation, in modern times, can afford to go on accumulating vast masses of authoritative decisions and statutes, without occasionally stopping to digest decisions and to revise written laws. 180 Law i~ America, 1776 1876. [Jan. In most of the States of the~ Union the sy~tems of laws under which the people have lived have been drawn from numerous and varied sources. It is true that in most of them the Eng- lish common law has furnished the basis for their jurisprudence. But when we consider the various sources from which English municipal law has itself been derived, when we reflect upon the changes in that system rendered necessary by the changed conditions of life under which people on this side of the Atlan- tic have flourished, and when we add to these facts the further fact of the necessary complexity of law which has been pro- duced by the very progress of civilized life, it is not difficult to see that codification, partial or entire, must have become in- - dispensable. Codification has, indeed, been decried both on the European continent and in England; but the objections which have been urged against it have been shown by one of the most profound and intelligent writers in modern times to be fallacious. In his Lectures on Jurisprudence, or The Philosophy of Positive Law, John Austin has analyzed these objections, and has pointed out the fact that the evils which have been alleged to exist in divers codes of European States have been due to the faulty manner in which the work of codi- fication has been executed, not to any defeats necessarily in- herent in the system itself. That author truly says that A code, as meaning a body of law expressed in general formuhe, arranged systematically, and complete, is a modern idea, and the value of this modern idea has been recognized in Eng- land only during the past few years. But this truth which has so slowly forced itself upon the minds of English jurists, or rather (it should be said) on the attention of English legislators, was understood and appre- ciated on this side of the Atlantic at a much earlier date. Shortly after the close of the first quarter of this century, New York and Pennsylvania began the task of arranging, formulat- ing, and systematizing their laws in all the various branches of jurisprudence. Since then there are few states in which general revisions of the statute law have not taken place from time to time, and codification, more or less general, been carried out. The tendency still exists, and is almost every year producing practical results. During the last ten years, not only have 1876.] Law in America, 1176 1876. 181 Revised Codes been adopted in the Southern States (where the political changes produced by the war would render such revisions of the law a necessity), but also in Western and New England States. Such, for example, are the Revised Code of Iowa, completed in 1873, and of Connecticut, adopted during the year which has just closed.* The improvemeuts and ad- vances in American law resulting from the carrying out of the tendency to codification have been of a marked and important character. Among the more striking are, first, the abolition of the distinction (derived from the English law) between courts of law and courts of equity, and, secondly, the simplification of the methods of legal procedure. To a layman the inherent distinction between common law and equity is plain enough; but the circumstance that justice is administered according to one system in one set of courts, and according to another (and in many instances contra- dictory) system in another set, must be extremely puzzling. That rigid rules are generally requisite for the regulation of civil conduct, but that under certain circumstances, and in certain exceptional cases, these rules require modification, is an elementary truth in the administration of justice which is readily recognized by every one. It is a necessary and un- avoidable concession to the weaknesses of human nature, or to the force of accident. It is desirable, for example, when parties to a contract have put their agreement in writing, that they should be bound by the tqrms of the written instrument which they have thus constituted the evidence of their inten- lion; but it is also equally desirable that when, through the fraud of one party, the written document does not faithfully represent the true meaning of the transaction, the other party should not be hound thereby. It is equally plain, again, to the uneducated understanding, that a man should, as a general rule, be permitted to assert any right, title, or interest which he may happen to have acquired in or to any property; but it is also equally apparent that such assertion of right should not, in fairness, take place when the party entitled to it has so acted as to induce another to believe that no such right existed, or would be insisted upon, and has induced the expenditure of * The recent revision of the Federal Laws must also be remembered. 182 Law in Atnerica, 1776 1876. [Jan. money, or the parting with something of value, on the faith of such belief. Now these two illustrations of fraud and estoppel are instances of equitable doctrines which coincide with the ordinary ideas of justice which exist in the mind of every one, layman or lawyer. But why a man should not be suf- fered in one court to show the fraud upon which in another tribunal he would be entitled to rest his claim for relief, or why,~ on one side of Westminster Hall, a plaintiff should be permitted to assert and recover upon a title which, on the other side of the Hall, he would not be allowed to set up, or, in other words, why the law administered in one court should be differ- ent from that administered in another court of the same nation, is a proposition which, at first glance, at all events, appears to the mind of the layman to be utterly unreasonable. It is clear, therefore, that the inherent distinction between law and equity, in certain senses of the term, is in accordance with ordinary common-sense, but that it is not in accordance with unprofessional reasoning that these two systems should not be recognized and enforced in all the tribunals of a country. Now the reason for this division of the administration of justice between different tribunals in England was historical rather than philosophical. In other words, equity, in the sense used in English jurisprudence, has never been found capable of any distinct and satisfactory scientific definition, but can only be properly understood and appreciated by a study of the manner in which .courts of justice, in early times, grew up and were organized. In the earliest period of their history, the Courts of Kings Bench and Common Pleas felt bound to recognize only legal titles and legal rights, and were, of course, unable to apply any remedies except those which were allowed by the somewhat cramped and unyielding forms of common-law writs. Hence there arose, in a perfectly natu- ral way, and as a part of the national growth, a distinction between common-law and equitable courts, which, while it had no foundation in scientific jurisprudence, had such a deep root in the English Constitution, that it has been but yesterday abolished. Like other institutions of the mother country, this distinc- tion between courts of law and courts of equity was imported 1876.] Law in America, 1776 1876. 183 into the American colonies, and was retained in many States after the Declaration of Independence. Very many of them had separate equity judges (chancellors), and almost all of them had separate courts, in which equitable doctrines were r~cognized, although in many instances presided over by those *ho acted in the other courts as common-law judges. In Pennsylvania a system existed which may be considered as the precursor of the statutory consolidation of law and equity which has taken place during the middle of the present cen- tury in other States of the Union, and which has just been adopted in England. This system was simply the adoption of equitable doctrines by the common-law courts, and their administration, as far as practicable, under common-law forms. The theory upon which the administration of justice, according to this system, was based, the extent to which it was carried, and the practical success and efficiency by which it was attended, were explained in a remarkable essay, first read as a lecture before an association of students-at-law and younger members of the bar in Philadelphia,and subsequently published in book form, namely Anthony Laussats Essay on Equity in Pennsylvania. This work, when profoundly considered, must be regarded, in spite of its brevity and comparatively ephemeral character, as one of the most remarkable produc- tions in the history of the literature of jurisprudence either in this country or England. It recognizes, enforces, and illus- trates the truth, which it has been the aim of reformers during the last thirty years to reach, namely, that there is no inherent necessity that equitable relief should be administered in courts which are separate and distinct from ordinary legal tribunals, and it points out the facl how this consolidation of justice had been very largely (though not completely) attained in Penn- sylvania by the administration of equitable principles in com- mon-law actions. According to this system, equitable titles were always en- forced in common-law suits; equitable rights were constantly recognized in all the courts; and the only failure of the system was that which occurred when certain equitable remedies were desired, and when the common-law writs were then powerless to do complete justice, although, even in this last case, at least 184 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. one equitable remedy, that, namely, of specific performance of contracts for the sale of land, was enforced through the medium of the action of ejectment. A few years after Laussats Essay was written, namely, in 1836, equitable jurisdiction was conferred upon the courts Pennsylvania, and relief is now administered not by separare equity judges, but by the judges of the ordinary courts accord- ing to the course and practice of chancery; but it has never- theless been held, and is now the thoroughly established doc- trine in that State, that, notwithstanding the grant of chancery powers, the old system of administering equitable relief under common-law forms is still unimpaired, and this doctrine is constantly being acted upon, and equitable titles and rights are always recognized, as heretofore, in common-law suits. The consolidation of courts of law and equity in those States in which they. had previously existed as distinct tribunals be- gan in 1840 with New York. It was followed in other States, from time to time; and while there are many States in which equitable jurisdiction is exercised by common-law judges according to the course and practice of chancery there, there are very few in which distinct chancery tribunals are main- tained. The desirability of the consolidation of the courts is a fact which has long been recognized in England, but the end, however much desired, was not attained until the pas- sage of the Supreme Court of Judicature Act in 1873, which, after some postponements, has at last gone into practical operation. Every credit is due to English legal reformers for the pas- sage of such an act, and every allowance must in fairness be. made for the difficulties which existed in the way of uprooting old institutions which had groWn and flourished from the very day when the seeds of English jurisprudence were sown. But when we reflect on the promptness and energy with which we on this side of the Atlantic have solved the problem, we cannot but congratulate ourselves that the activity which has been the characteristic of the American mind in so many departments of life has not been wanting in the science of jurisprudence, and has brought about results which have furnished examples to be imitated by those from whom our legal institutions have been derived. 1876] Law in America, 1776 1876. 185 Scarcely less important than the consolidation of the tribu- nals by which justice is administered is the subject of the simplification of the methods of legal procedure. This simpli- fication has been twofold; first, in abolishing the variety of forms of actions, and second, in substituting a statement and answer for the English system of pleading. Theoretically, the English system of process and pleading seems to have been perfect. The writ notified the defendant of the general nature of the action in which the plaintiff alleged that he was answerable, and of the court in which he was to appear. The declaration contained a statement of the particular and specific wrong of which the plaintiff complained, and the subsequent pleadings were designed to eliminate such matters as were not disputed or were immaterial, and to bring the controversy down to the matter or matters in dispute, which were called issues. The trial of a cause consisted in the determination of these issues, the same being passed upon by a jury, if they were issues of fact, and by the court, if issues of law. But, however perfect in theory, the system was liable to abuse or disarrangement in practice. Whether or not, with a body of perfectly trained lawyers, the ancient English system of pleading might not be the best in the world for the accurate and speedy administration of justice, is a question as to which a great deal could be truthfully said upon the affirmative. But the intricacies of special pleading, and the frightful conse- quences which ensued from the slightest mistakes in matters of form, were such as to call loudly for legislative reform, and accordingly, in England, at the present day, pleading and prac- tice have been much simplified. In this country still greater steps in this direction have been taken. Under the system of procedure which has been adopted in many of the old and nearly all of the new States in the Union, the case of a plaintiff is presented to the court in a brief, simple, and informal statement, and the answer of the defendant is of the same character. Whether the results of this simplification of procedure have been altogether desirable, may possibly be doubted. That in many respects they have been beneficial, may be conceded; 186 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. but in the method of presenting a case for decision by mere statement and answer, there is lost that precise and clear definition of the exact points in dispute which is found when the technical forms of the pleading of the common law are skilfully and carefully applied. Hence, in a great many in- stances, the trials of causes in this country are encumbered and prolonged by the introduction of a vast mass of irrelevant testimony which has nothing whatever to do with th& issues really existing between the parties, and which serves only to confuse the jury and weary all concerned. This was a fault against which even the common-law system of pleading did not sufficiently guard, for the wide latitude for the introduction of evidence, which was permitted by the general issue, con- duced, in a high degree, to uncertainty in ascertaining the real points in controversy, and to prolixity in the trial of a cause. Hence the necessity for the adoption of the rules of ilulary Term, in 4 Will. IV., in accordance with the recommendation of the Common-Law Commissioners, whereby the effect of the general issue was limited so that the questions raised thereby became less numerous and more precise. It may well be doubted, therefore, whether legislation presenting a simple statement and answer, in place of a scientific system of plead- ing, is altogether wise, and whether, therefore, the steps in that direction which have been taken in many of the States of the Union have not been steps towards sUppO8ed rather than actual reform. Undoubtedly this system of pleading at large, as it has been termed, has its advantages; it prevents, or cer- tainly tends to prevent, any decision of the rights of parties on the ground of mere form, and by its simplicity, and the readiness with which it is mastered, renders causes less likely to miscarry through these slight formal errors, which should never, m a system where justice is fairly administered, be per- mitted to prejudice the real merits of a case. But it is plain that at some stage or other of a judicial proceeding, immaterial and admitted facts must be eliminated, otherwise the investi- gation would become hopelessly prolonged and confused; and it does seem to be better that, where the system of deciding upon questions of fact through the means of a jury prevails, and where juries are composed, as must always of necessity 1876.] Law in America, 17761876. 187 be the case, of those who are untrained in the art of sifting evidence and discriminating the real points in issue between parties, some preliminary process should be invoked whereby the case should be presented to the jury in a clear, sharp, and well-defined manner. Under the Constitution adopted in Pennsylvania in 1814, parties are allowed, in certain cases, by consent, to have the facts as well as the law of the case deter- mined by a judge, without the interposition of a jury. Wher- ever some such plan as this could be practicable, pleading at large might be allowed with advantage. A trained judicial mind, accustomed to the rules of pleading and evidence, able to discriminate clearly and promptly between such matters as are or are not material, and able, moreover, to hear without prejudice allegations which, though disadvantageous to one or the other of the parties, are purely collateral to the point in controversy, and not, therefore, to be fairly taken into con- sideration in rendering a judgment, such a mind, we say, might well be trusted to hear the whole story, on both sides, in full, and to arrive at a sound and just decision. And this is just what is done by the method of pleading in equity. But such a system could not be introduced in a compulsory form without infringing upon that great and deservedly valued right, trial by jury; and th~ surrender of such a right would be too high a price to pay for the great, but still comparatively inferior, advantage of untechnical pleading. Upon the whole, therefore, it may be concluded that the true principle of reform in this department of justice would be, to take the common-law system of pleading, to simplify it, to render it more precise in some respects, less technical in others; to reduce the number of forms of actions, and guard, as much as may be, again~t prolixity. In this way, perhaps, more desirable results would be obtained than are reached by tl}e sweeping enactments in many of the States, by which technical pleading is com- pletely abrogated and all forms of actions abolished. Another plan would be to adhere to the system of a state- ment and an answer, and then to have the issues in dispute ascertained by a judge or a master, after which a reference to have them decided by a jury would follo~v, according to the practice which obtained in the English Chancery of having 188 Law in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. issues of fact directed to be tried by a jury for the enlighten- ment of the conscience of the chancellor. In carrying out the details of codification, efforts have been made in some of the States towards the simplification, or sup- posed simplification, of the rules of the common law in other directions besides these which have been already noticed. The doctrine of Uses and Trusts, which had its origin at a very early period of the English law, was one of these legal principles which were imported along with the vast body of the law of the mother country into our jurisprudence. This doctrine, whereby the complete title to property was supposed by a legal fiction to be divided or resolved into the two elements of legal title on the one hand, and equitable title, or beneficial ownership, on the other, is apparently of English origin (not having any exact parallel in any other legal system), and has been, as is well known, of the very first importance in the English law of real property, especially since the passage of the. Statute of Uses of 27, Henry VIII. In fact, it is upon the Statute of Uses that the whole system of modern English conveyancing is based. Moreover, in the administration of justice the fictions of what are known as Implied, Resulting, and Constructive Trusts are employed for the purpose of carry- ing out certain equitable doctrines which thus employed consti- tute the machinery for the enforcement of a very large class of rights respecting both real and personal property. The subject has grown in the process of time to vast proportions and im- portance, and the law has become complicated, and in many instances difficult, and in a few cases contradictory. Legal literature comprises many treatises of great learning and re- search upon this difficult branch of English jurisprudence, and upon no subject are the decisions of the courts so numerous and important. That reformers in law in this country should make some at- tempts to lop off a few superfluous branches from this wide- spreading growth was to have been expected; but in some States the axe has been laid to the root of the tree, and the whole doctrine of Uses and Trusts has been sought to be eradicated. Thus in New York the Revised Statutes abolished Uses, and confined Trusts within very narrow limits; and 1876.] Law in America, 17761876. 189 similar legislation has been adopted in several other, princi- pally Western, States. The advisability of so-called reforma- tion in this particular is very questionable. The system of the law of real property must necessarily be, to a very great extent, artificial. The complex requirements of modern life in regard to the enjoyment and disposition of property could not other~ wise be carried out. A forcible attempt to compel these trans- actions to be simple and uniform must, of course, be a failure; and to take away the legal machinery by which ends so justifi- able and desirable have heretofore been carried out can be pro- ductive, in many instances, of nothing but embarrassment and confusion. That trust deeds under the English system have been prolix and complicated, is true ; that the intention of the parties to such instruments may have in some instances been defeated by the very means by which they have been sought to be carried out, may be admitted; and it may also be conceded that, in the exposition of the doctrines growing out of tim law of Uses and Trusts, unnecessary refinements and subtleties have occasionally crept into the law; but most of these objections are objections which are inherent in the nature of things, and proceed rather from the complex wants of men in relation to their property than from the means whereby. the law has endeavored to carry them out. The true part of a wise legis- lation would seem to be to adopt the more patient and praise- worthy task of correcting the evils in the system, instead of the despairing process of abolishing the system altogether. Indeed, this last method of reform seems to be opposed to the proper spirit of the American intellect, which has always been to simplify, but never to destroy. The legislators of the country might well take a lesson from those who have to do with its mechanical arts, and remember how often American workmen have transformed the complicated and unmanageable machinery of their English cousins into models of simplicity and adap- tiveness. The criticism of a great American jurist and commentator upon this very subject is thoroughly wise and just. Chancellor Kent has said, The attempt to bring all trusts within the narrowest compass strikes me as one of the most questionable undertakings in tIme whole business of the Revision 190 Law in America, 17761876. [Jan. It is in vain to think that an end can be put to the interinina- ble nature of trusts arising in a great community, busy in the pursuit, anxious for the security, and blessed with the enjoyment, of property in all its ideal and tangible modifications. And the same great writer truly says that the abolition of Uses can have no effect, it is the abolition of a phantom. Remarks similar to these which have just been suggested may also be made in reference to other attempts at reform which have been made iii the law of Real Property in very many of the States. Time rule in Shelleys Case, the rule which forbids the creation of legal freehold estates to commence in future, the rule which forbids the limitation of a remainder which will operate to abridge the particular estate, have all been abrogated by statute in many States. Time policy of such a method of reformation may have been advocated by able men, and there may be much to be said in its support; but it is submitted with deference, that such a method is not that which is marked by the profoundest wisdom and foresight, and that it loses sight of one of the great ends of codification. The design of codification is to arrange systematically, har- moniously, and intelligibly such laws as have been found necessary to regulate civil conduct in a given society. Now if social relations are simple, the laws should be simple and few; and if by bad or careless legislation the laws have been uselessly complex, it is the business of the Revisory Code to lop off these excrescences. But where laws have become complex from the circumstance that the social relations which they reg- ulate are intricate and varied, the difficulty is inherent in the nature of things, and no code or statute can compel simplicity in rules of civil conduct in such a state of affairs, any more than a foolish act of Congress could keep gold at par. Other subjects which have engaged the attention of American codifiers the rights of married women, marriage and divorce, evidence,, insolvency, exemption laws are well worthy of at- tention, but want of time and space forbids their discussion. From time review, then, of the tendencies of American juris- prudence considered witim reference to the causes whiclm have produced its peculiarities and controlled its development, we must pass, by way of conclusion, to a statement of the general 1876.j Education in America, 1776 1876. 191 ckaracter of the results which have been attained. And as to these results we may sa.y that they may be grouped under three general heads, in that the law in this country has, in the progress of its hundred years of life, become (1) more simple, (2) more humane, and (3) more adaptive. That it has tended to become more simple would seem to be sufficiently plain from the instances which have been given under the head of codi- fication; of its increased humanity, the criminal code and the laws relating to married women are fair proofs; while the facility with which it has met the changes produced by the physical and political peculiarities of the country, and the nature of its institutions, is evidence of its adaptiveness. The pathway which American law has pursued is one upon which we can turn our eyes with feelings of no little pride; and if the progress of our national jurisprudence has not always been in precisely the right direction, it has not wandered far from the way, and has certainly been no laggard. G. T. BISPHAM. ART. VI. EDUCATION IN AMERICA, 1776 1876. AT the close of the first century of the national existence, the advantages, necessities, and dangers of public instruction in the United States are such that the President begins and ends what is called his Centennial Message to Congress, December 7, 1875, with an appeal to the people for the sup- port of the established system of common schools, and an emphatic recommendation that an amendment to the United States Constitution should be passed for the protection and promotion of this object of public concern. He advises that a Constitutional amendment be submitted to the Legislatures of the several States for ratification, making it the duty of each of the several States to establish and forever maintain free public schools, adequate to the education of all the children in rudimentary branches, within their respective limits, irrespective of sex, color, birthplace, or religion; forbidding tho teaching in said schools of religious, atheistic, or pagan tenets, and prohibiting the

1876.j Education in America, 1776 1876. 191 ckaracter of the results which have been attained. And as to these results we may sa.y that they may be grouped under three general heads, in that the law in this country has, in the progress of its hundred years of life, become (1) more simple, (2) more humane, and (3) more adaptive. That it has tended to become more simple would seem to be sufficiently plain from the instances which have been given under the head of codi- fication; of its increased humanity, the criminal code and the laws relating to married women are fair proofs; while the facility with which it has met the changes produced by the physical and political peculiarities of the country, and the nature of its institutions, is evidence of its adaptiveness. The pathway which American law has pursued is one upon which we can turn our eyes with feelings of no little pride; and if the progress of our national jurisprudence has not always been in precisely the right direction, it has not wandered far from the way, and has certainly been no laggard. G. T. BISPHAM. ART. VI. EDUCATION IN AMERICA, 1776 1876. AT the close of the first century of the national existence, the advantages, necessities, and dangers of public instruction in the United States are such that the President begins and ends what is called his Centennial Message to Congress, December 7, 1875, with an appeal to the people for the sup- port of the established system of common schools, and an emphatic recommendation that an amendment to the United States Constitution should be passed for the protection and promotion of this object of public concern. He advises that a Constitutional amendment be submitted to the Legislatures of the several States for ratification, making it the duty of each of the several States to establish and forever maintain free public schools, adequate to the education of all the children in rudimentary branches, within their respective limits, irrespective of sex, color, birthplace, or religion; forbidding tho teaching in said schools of religious, atheistic, or pagan tenets, and prohibiting the 192 Education in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. granting of any school funds or school taxes, or any part thereof, either by legislative, municipal, or other authority, for the benefit or in aid, directly or indirectly, of any religious sect or denomination, or in aid or for the benefit of any other object of any nature or kind whatever. Within a few days after the presentation of this message, Mr. Blame, the Republican leader of the House, introduced a bill which coincides in its tenor with the Presidents recoin- mendation. His proposed amendment is this ART. XVI. No State shall make any law respecting an establish- ment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; and no money raised by taxation in any State for the support of public schools, or derived from any public fund therefor, nor any public lands devoted thereto, shall ever be under the control of any re- ligious sect, nor shall any money so raised or lands so devoted, be divided between religious sects or denominations. General Grants official utterance followed close upon a less formal expression of his opinions at Des Moines, Iowa, which attracted great attention in this country and in Europe. How- ever accepted, these emphatic words from the chief magistrate of the Union are likely to call out, during the next few months, much educational discussion, and especially on fundamental questions in respect to the origin, growth, theory, methods, and results of public instruction in this country. All investigators will find the task of reviewing the progress of Americaim education during the last century peculiarly difficult. There is a great deficiency of historical and philo- sophical discussion bearing upon this subject; moreover, in consequence of the extreme decentralization which has gov- erned the American policy in public instruction (as in other affairs of the State), the statistical and administrative reports, on which a thorough survey must be based, are scattered through many thousands of local reports, still uncollected and uncollated, and even, to a very considerable extent, not given to the press. This great difficulty is balanced, however, by another con- sideration. Notwithstanding the diverse authorities under which instruction has been provided, the principles which 1876.] Education in America, 1776 1876. 193 have guided the action of these public authorities are homo- geneous. In details, in methods, in results, the system of education differs in every State, while in its outlines the sys- tem is the same from the Atlantic to the Pac:fic. As an assistance to those, especially in other countries, who may seek to study the development of the American system of education, we enumeiate some of the principal sources of in- formation. Within the last few years a central agency, the United States Bureau of Education, has been established by Congress, in Washington, for the purpose of collecting, from every part of the country, information in respect to the con- dition of education, and of diffnsing, as widely as possible, the information thus brought together. This official bureau has been or great benefit to the country. Since its organization, in 1867, six annual reports have been pubhi~hed, besides a large number of special papers, or essays, officially called Circulars. The first of the annual publica- tions was issued by Dr. Henry Barnard, and the five succeed- ing reports were issued under the administration of the present indefatigable Commissioner, General J. Eaton, Jr., who en- tered upon his office iii March, 1870. Already the statistics which have been accumulated are suf- ficient for important comparisons; the schedules upon which the tables are prepared improve every year, and greater willing- ness to make exact returns is evinced by the local officers. At the same time, the Commissioner is so careful not to tran- scend his authority, and is so ready to communicate all the information collected in his office, that prejudices against any national expenditures for education are lessening, and those who oppose, as well as those ~vho favor governmental action in such matters acknowledge the advantages of having at command trustworthy facts. Private enterprise has to a remarkable degree remedied some of tIle deficiencies of governmental neglect. Dr. Henry Bar- nard of Hartford, to whom allusion has just beeii made, began in 1856 the publication of ann American Journal of Education, which, with various changes of form, has been continued to the present time. It now comprises twenty-four octavo volumes, including in all some twenty thousand pages, illustrated by one VOL. CXXII. NO. 250. 13 194 Education in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. hundred and twenty-five portraits, and eight hundred cuts rep- resenting school buildings. Dr. Jlodgson, a distinguished pro- fessor in the University of Edinburgh, has recently remarked that this publication really contains, though not in continuous form, a history, and it may be said an encycl6p~edia, of educa- tion. It is the best and only general authority in respect to the progress of American education during the past century. It includes statistical data, personal reminiscences, historical sketches, educational biographies, descriptions of institutions, plans of buildings, reports, speeches, and legislative documents. For the first sixteen volumes an index is published, and for the next eight volumes an index is in preparation. The compre- hensiveness of this work and its persistent publication under many adverse circumstances, at great expense, by private and almost unsupported exertions, entitle the editor to the grateful recognition of all investigators of our system of instruction. He has won a European reputation by this Journal, and in our own country will always be an indispensable guide and com- panion to the historian of education. Many other periodicals have been published in this country, devoted to educational intelligence and discussion. A list of those which appeared after 1811 and prior to 1865 is given in Barnards Journal of that year. Since 1840 an attempt has been made to collect educational statistics in the decennial census of the United States, but the results have not been satisfactory in consequence of the differ- ent schedules which are employed for the registration of statis- tics in different States, the extreme diffusion of responsibility, and the confusion of educational nomenclature. In the census of 1870 great pains was taken to discover the extent to which illiteracy is prevalent, and two maps were printed face to face with one another exhibiting the relations of wealth to education. In the Statistical Atlas prepared by the superintendent of the census, General F. A. Walker, the only educational charts are two; they exhibit the illiteracy of the entire population and the illiteracy of adult white males. For the Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia the Educa- tional Bureau at Washington is making great preparations. It has enlisted the co-operation of school officers and associa 1876.] Education in America, 1776 1876. 195 tions in various parts of the land, and also of the administra- tors of colleges, libraries, art-schools, charities, etc., and other institutions, and by their aid will bring together, not merely an abundance of material things illustrative of educational methods and apparatus, but also manuscript and printed documents illustrative of the historical development of our American institutions. All this is projected on a very com- prehensive scheme. If rightly discussed by those who prepare the official reports on the Exhibition, such collections will throw much light upon the merits and the deficiencies of all our agencies for the promotion of knowledge. When the discussions for the support of the Educational Bureau were in progress, Mr. G. F. Hoar, upon the floor of Congress, declared that the only respectable account of edu- cation in this country ever published had been prepared by foreign governments. Among such reports, the most satis- factory is that of Rev. James Fraser, now the Bishop of Manchester, England, who came to this country in 1865, and employed six months in the prosecution of his inquiry, and four months in drawing up his report. This elaborate paper, like that of Mr. Matthew Arnold on the schools of France, Germany, etc., was presented to the Crown by the Scottish Commissioners of Public Instruction. It is a candid revie,w of facts collected with great diligence and fairness, all the better, beca~ise of the discriminating criticism with which it distinguishes the wise from the unwise, and because it appreci- ates right purposes and tendencies in this country eveii when results are not yet satisfactory. Besides the Report of the Bishop of Manchester, the excel- lent study of Lavaleye, which appeared in the Revue des Deux Mondes, and was reprinted in a volume entitled L Instruction du Peuple; the reports of a French Commissioner, L In struc- tion Publiq?le aux Ltats Uni8, par M. Hippean; and the obser- vati?ns of Mr. Siljestr~m, a Swedish traveller, whose work was translated into English by F. Rowan ; of Dr. Wimmer, a Saxon teacher; and of Mr. Hirkel, a recent Russian observer, are all noteworthy. In consequence of the recent educational discussions in England, much has been said in that country upon American schools, among recent works, the more im 196 Education in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. portant being a volume on National Education by Rev. J. H. Rigg, and one on the American School System by F. Adams. Having thus endeavored to point out the principal sources of information on which the historical inquirer must depend, we shall now take a rapid glance at the progress of education among us during the past century, in the three stages which are commonly knowii as primary, secondary, and supe- rior instruction. Unquestionably the most distinctive characteristic of Amer- ican education is the prevalence of popular primary schools throughout the vast territory of the United States. The system upon which they are organized is a growth and not a creation. It was not imported from any European countiy. Its germ was planted by the earliest colonists, but the tree which has sprung from the germ would amaze the original planters. Its development is not due to the arguments of any philosopher or the wisdom of any legislator. It has been gradually influenced by the ecclesiastical, political, and social requirements of the country. Theoretically it has many defects; practically it is adapted to the circumstances of the land. No European country is likely to adopt it; the Americans will not abandon it. It is the pride of the people; the satisfaction of the poor man, and the protection of the rich man. Its influence in the promotion of intelligence and prosperity in The Northern and Eastern States has been rated so high that every new State adopts it without question. We shall not endeavor in this article to trace to their sources in the Old World, the underlying notions of the colonists who instituted the system. It would be interesting to discover, if that were possible, how much may be attributed to a natural evohition from the social usages and laws of England, and how much from those of Holland. It is a question of interest to Americans, says Dr. Francis Lieber, how far the settlers of New England were influenced by their sojourn in the republican Netherlands. I throw out the question. It deserves a thorough, yet very plain and un- biassed inquiry. Doubtless the school history will illustrate this influence; but such an inquiry would take us quite too far away from the present century. 1876.] Education in America, 1776 1876. 197 We shall not even attempt to distribute among the original colonies which constituted the Union of 1776 the honors which they may justly claim for an early devotion to the interests of education; but among all the official records there is none more worthy to be held in perpetual remembrance in the Republic than an order which was adopted in Massachusetts November 11, 1647. Its language wilt never be forgotten; its spirit is still vital in every part of the country. Its words are these It is therefore ordered, that every township in this jurisdiction, after the Lord has increased them to the number of fifty householders, shall then forthwith appoint one within their town to teach all such children as shall resort to him to read and write, whose wages shall he paid either by the parents or masters of such children, or by the inhabitants in general, by way of supply, as the major part of those that order the prudentials of the town shall appoint; provided those that send their children be not oppressed by paying much more than they can have them taught for in other towns. And it is further ordered, that when any town shall increase to the number of one hundred families or householders, they shall set up a grammar school, the master thereof being able to instruct youth so far as they may be fitted for the university; provided, that if any town neglect the per- formance hereof above one year, that every such town shall pay five pounds to the next school till they shall perform this order. Here is a plan involving local responsibility; state oversight; moderate charges or gratuitous instruction; provision for all and not for the poor alone; and a recognition of three har- monious grades, the primary school, the grammar school, and the university. Our theme restricts us to the development of education since 1776. There are many indications that, in the period of reconstruction which followed the Declaration of Independence, the necessity of education was distinctly recognized both in the councils of the State and nation. Dr. Barnard, in one of his papers, has brought together some of the more remarkable utterances on the relations of the national government to education which were made by Washington. It is interesting to observe that in the mind of Washington there was a very distinct idea of the value of a national agency for the colle~tion and diffusion of information. His words re 198 Education in Americ~s, 1776 1876. [Jan. fcr to an agricultural bureau, but they are an exact description of the responsibilities of the educational bureau, created in 1867. He advises that a central agency be formed, charged with collecting and diffusing information, and enabled by pre- miums and small pecuniary aids to encourage and assist a spirit of discovery and improvement. This species of establish- ment contributes doubly to the increase of improvement, by stimulating to enterprise and experiment, and by drawing to a common centre the results everywhere of individual skill and observation, and spreading them thence over the whole nation. But the national government did not receive from the States the responsibility of providing a system ot public schools. Each State in its own way engaged in the work. When the now Constitution of Massachusetts was adopted in 1780, public education received full recognition. An article, the spirit of which was fully in accordance with the legislation of 1647, was adopted and still remains the fundamental law of the State. This oft-quoted enactment was drafted by John Adams, afterward President of the United States, who has left an entertaining statement of the circumstances which led to its preparation. Its first section confirms the rights of Harvard College; the second encourages literature in these words: Wisdom and knowledge, as well as virtue, diffused generally among the body of people, being necessary for the preservation of their rights and liberties, and as these depeud on spreading the opportunities and advantages of education in the various parts of the country, and among the different orders of the people, it shall be the duty of the legislatures and magistrates, in all future periods of this commonwealth, to cherish the interests of literature and the sciences, and all seminaries of them, especially the University at Cambridge, public schools and grammar schools in the towns; to encourage pri-. vate societies and public institutions by rewards and immunities for the promotion of agriculture, arts, sciences, commerce, trades, manu- factures, and a natural history of the country; to countenance and inculcate the principles of humanity and general benevolence, public and private charity, industry and frugality, honesty and punctuality in their dealings, sincerity, good humor, and all social affections and * generous sentiments among the people. 1876.] Education in America, 1776 1876. 199 Mr. Adams informs us of his apprehension that criticism and objection would be made to the section, and particularly that the natural history and the good humor would be stricken out, but the whole was received very kindly, and passed the convention unanimously without amendment. Connecticut dates its system of schools from the time of the earliest settlements in Hartford and New Haven. Iii the body of laws, says Barnard, known as the code of 1650, the pro- visions for the family instruction of children, and the main- tenance of schools by towns, are identica4ly the same as in Mas- sachuso4;ts, and remained on the statute-book with slight modifi- cations to give them efficiency for two hundred years. The charter of Connecticut, granted in 1662, remained in force till 1818, when a constitution was adopted which protects both the charter of Yale College and the school fund, established in 1795. The Constitution of New Hampshire, as amended in 1784, transcribes very nearly the exact words of that section of the constitution of Massachusetts which we have already quoted, on the encouragement of literature; but it is amusing to notice that the word good-humor, which Mr. Adams introduced, was struck out in New Hampshire, and the word sobriety introduced in its stead. Vermont in 1793 declared that a competent number of schools ought to be maintained in each town, and one or more grammar schools in each county of the State. Rhode Island remained under the colonial charter till 1840, and Maine was not admitted to the Union till 1820. The Constitution of New York, adopted in 1777, made no allusions to schools. In 1785, thc Legislature created a Board of Regents of the University of the State, designed to promote and control academies and colleges, and in 1795 an act was passed for the maintenance and encouragement of common schools. In 1805, the school fund was established, and in 1812 the school law was adopted on which all subsequent legislation and progress have been based. The growth of the school system in New Jersey was slow. The Constitution of 1776 did not refer to the sul)ject. In 1816 an act wa~ passed creating a school fund, which was protected 200 Education in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. by the Constitution of 1844. It was not until 1871 that a gen- eral act providing an excellent system of state, county, and town supervision was adopted. The second Constitution of Pennsylvania, adopted in 1790, requires the Lekislature to provide for the establishment of schools throughout the State, in such manner that the poor may be taught gratis; and that the arts and sciences should be pro- moted in one or more seminaries of learning. This provision was repeated in the Constitution of 1838. In the first Constitution of Delaware, adopted in 1776, but as amended in 1831, the Legislature is instructed to provide by law for establishing schools, and promoting arts and sci- ences. In 1779, Thomas Jefferson drafted a bill providing a public school system for Virginia, but it was not adopted till 1796, and then with a proviso which completely defeated it. The first Constitution was adopted in 1776, the second in 1830, the third in 1851. In the latter it is provided that one equal moiety of the capitation tax upon white persons shall be ap- plied to the purposes of education in primary and free schools. In Maryland, there was no constitutional prevision on educa- tion till 1864. In North Carolina, in 1776, it was declared A school or schools shall be established by the Legislature, for the conven- ient instruction of youth, with such salaries to the masters, paid by the public, as may enable them to instruct at low prices; and all useful learning shall be duly encouraged and promoted in one or more universities. In South Carolina the first provisions of education were in the amended constitution of 1839. The western migratio~i from New England to the Mississippi Valley and to the Pacific coast carried with it the New England school system. As each new State in the northwest was organ- ized, a constitutional provision ~vas made for schools, and in every State except Ohio, a university or high seminary of learning was included in the plan. The chronology is alone instructive: Ohio in 1802, Indiana in 1816, Illinois in 1818, Michigan in 1835, Iowa iii 1846, Wisconsin in 1848, California in 1849, Minnesota in 1858, Nevada in 1864, succe~sively in.~ troduced the common-school system. 201 1876.] .Ed~tcation in America, 1776 1876. Since the civil war was concluded, school systems in the Southern States have been reorganized and in most of them the essential principles of the New England system have been adopted. There are numerous pictures extant of the New England schools as they appeared about the beginning of the century. Dr. Dwight, President of Yale College from 1795 to 1816, gives the following sketch of his own observations A stranger travelling through New England marks with not ~ little surprise the umititude of school-houses, appearing everywhere at little distances. Familiarized as I am to the sight, they have ex- cited no small interest in my mind ; particularly as I was travelling through the settlements recently begun. Here, while the inhabitants were still living in log huts, they had not only erected school-houses for their children, but had built them in a neat style; so as to throw an additional appearance of deformity over their own clumsy habita- tions. This attachment to education in New England is universal; and the situation of that hamlet must be bad indeed, which, if it con- tain a sufficient number of children for a school, does not provide the necessary accommodations. In 1803, I found neat school-houses in Colebrook and Stewart, bordering on the Canadian line. The general spirit and scheme by which the education given in parochial schools (for such I call them) is regulated throughout the New England States are substantially the same. He has also left on record many interesting observations upon the schools of Connecticut as they were familiar to him about the year 1801. Children living at a distance from the school- house, he tells us, were not sent to school till they were four years old; those near by were frequently sent at two! The girls, he says, generally leave school at twelve or fourteen. There is scarcely a child in the State who is not taught reading, writing, or arithmetic. Poverty has ~io effect in excluding any one from education. We have also the following picture of schools in Massachu- setts, sketched by a recent historian. The laws for promoting public instruction were attended with more favorable results; and recommendations were made by the governor for the appropriation of lands in the district of Maine for the support of the schools and the gospel ministry in that part of the State, and for a grant to Harvard College, whose funds were inadequate for the sup- 202 Education in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. port of its instructors. The establishment of academies, also, dates from this period ; and a number of these seminaries were incorporated by the Legislature. By the laws of 1789, all towns in the State hav- ing two hundred families were required to support a grammar school, agreeably to former usage, and, in addition, were ordered to employ for instructors of youth, those who were educated at some college, and were able to teach the Greek and Latin languages. In towns where the inhabitants were less, it was required that such as were qualified to teach the English language correctly should be engaged iii the business of edQcation. By a traditionary blindness as has been charitably assumed, our early fathers did not see that females required and deserved instruction ,equally with males, hence the first provisions for primary schools were confined chiefly to boys. But light soon broke in, and girls were allowed to attend the public schools two hours per day. With this point gained, the revolution in public opinion was rapid and encouraging; and, before the close of the eighteenth century, in nearly every town provision was made for the education of girls, especially in the summer. * We come now to consider more in detail the main char- acteristics of this system of schools which has become a conti- nental institution. In the first place it was based upon the principle of local responsibility. Each town was expected and required to maintain such schools in number and in character as its own inhabitants needed. The determination of school taxes or rates, the construction of school-houses, the selection of teachers, the choice of school-books, the limitation of school sessions, were local questions. The great advantage of this plan was its cilcouragement of personal responsibility among parents to look after the training of their children. It secured the popular devotion to the school system as it never could have been secnred if the schools had been maintained by any central authority. But as years rolled on the smaller and poorer towns failed to do justice to themselves ; and in the larger and richer towns private schools attracted the children of wealthy families, so that the common schools were attended chiefly by the needy and were in consequence neglected. Thus it came to pass that the supervision of the State government was invoked; and * Barry, Hist. of Mass., H. 322. 208 1876.] Education in America, 1776 1876. partly by money appropriation from a school fund, and partly by stringent laws, and partly by the moral influence and en- couragement of State Boards of Education and superintendents of schools, the intelligence of an entire State was brought to bear on the school system in every hamlet and village. No school district was so obscure as to escape the oversight of the central authority. The aid of comparative statistics was in~ yoked, and the light of publicity was thrown upon every nook and corner. In order to remedy definite faults, specific legis- lation was secured, or specific privileges were granted, and thus the statute-books became full of cumbersome and unintel- ligible enactments which gave rise to many disputes and still more embarrassing interpretations of the law. It was a slow process in Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, and others of the older States to arrange an orderly body of laws, pertaining to public schools throughout the State, adapted both to large and prosperous towns and also to small and thinly settled districts in the country. From these difficulties the older States have not yet completely emerged, but in every State of the Union either the constitution or the law now recognizes the need of some form of general supervision. As the new States of the West and the Northwest were organized, the national government required that a consider- able amount of the public lands, within each territorial limit, should be reserved for public education, and thus the common- school system, usually culminating in a high seminary of learning (which came to mean a State university), was secured to the interior and Pacific States. But the national government did not dictate nor regulate the details of the system in any part of the land; and the State governments, as they were organized, were careful to preserve the local responsibility of subordinate districts, though they profited by the experience of the older States and reserved to the cen- tral authority an adequate power of superintendence. It is only within the last decade that the United States government has undertaken even to collect the facts which exhibit the results of its generous land-grants. This it now does with admirable results, but it carefully avoids every measure which seems to imply national superintendence. 201 Education in America, 1776 1876. [Jan. Again, the system is extremely elastic. There is no fixed limit of age or acquisition at which public instruction ends. Usage varies in different places. In many of the oldei States secondary education is, to a considerable extent, in the hands of private teachers, and endowed or corporate academies. In the West, not merely secondary, but also superior insti- tutions, including even the professional schools, are a part of the system of the State. On the other hand, there is many a towii in New England where the effort to establish a public high school meets with earnest opposition from those who honestly think that the public should not attempt to provide anything more than the simplest elements of an education. The advocates of high schools claim that their influence is powerful on schools of lower grade; that there is no possibility of drawing an exact and invariable line at which instruction must cease; and that the earliest New England usages, never theoretically abandoned, included grammar schools as inter- mediate between the primary school and the college. The opponents, with much emphasis, declare that the State does not teach well the higher branches, which should therefore be left to voluntary agencies. The principle appears to be, that the extent to which public education may be provided in any community must depend on the wealth, the wants, and the wishes of that community. The decision will be governed by the intelligence and enter- prise of the inhabitants, and by the presence or absence of endowed academies or satisfactory private schools. During the last twenty. five years there has been a remarkable increase of high schools, and some of them, like those of New York, Baltimore, Philadelphia, etc., are as worthy of the name of college as most institutions which bear the name. Again, instruction in the public primary schools is now free in nearly, if not quite, every State. Many friends of popular education believe that it would have beemi better to retain the custom of a slight charge for tuition; but the school super- intendents have beeii nearly unanimous in advocating the removal of all pecuniary restrictions, and the magic of the name free schools has been quite irresistible. Another distinctive feature of the Americaii school system 1876.] Education in America, 1776 1876. 205 is the absencc of all class distinctions, ecclesiastical control, and social limitations. The schools are avowedly open to all. In many places they are attended by pupils who come from the humblest and from the most refined amid wealthy families. In the South, different school buildings are provided for blacks and whites; but in the North, ~vhere the number of blacks is small, this distinc- tion is not made. In many places the girls are taught in separate buildings from the boys. But, notwithstanding these limitations, it may be said that the public school, in theory, recognizes no class distinctions. Sectarian instruction is not permitted in the schools. Early in the cemitury, before the Catholics were numerous, there was no dissent to the reading of the Bible, and to other religious instruction which was free from a denominational or proselyt- ing character. But the growth of the Catholic population has beemi accompanied by strong protests against the prevalence of Protestant instruction, and unquestionably the tendency is now to omit from the schools all religious instruction, excluding even time reading of the Bible and the singing of devotioiial hymns. To many religious people this is a source of deep regret, and leads them to question seriously the value of such schools. To many others it is a source of congratulation, for they believe that the proper agency to convey religious instruction is not the public school, but the religions society. The chief danger which threatens the common-school system is unquestionably this difference of opinion in respect to re- ligious instruction, and the solution of the problem must be awaited with anxiety by all good citizens. We must frankly admit that when the colonists of Massa- chusetts and Conmiecticut were of one faith in religious affairs, they did not hesitate to teach that faith in the schools and colleges wlmiclm the State maintained or encouraged. Their early utterances, indicate clearly the religious motives wimich governed time foummdatiomms of thmese new commonwealths. So long a~ time inhabitants of any town or State were exclusively Protestants, there could be little or no objection to the perusal of tlmc authorized version of time Bible, time singing of hymns, 206 Education in America, 17761876. [Jan. the offering up of the Lords Prayer, or some other simple invocation at the teachers discretion. The slight ol)jections which were sometimes felt to this course of procedure did not take the form of organized opposition or employ the methods of political agitation. In those communities and school districts where the Protestant element is still almost exclusively preva- lent, little, if any, opposition is yet made to these simple Chris- tian influences. They are quite free from ecclesiastical author- ity, and are usually free from bigotry, and from proselyting tendencies. As the common-school system was extended over the land, the brief and simple religious exercises to which we have referred continued to be the practice. But when the Catholic immigration began to add its myriads to our shores, arid to manifest its influence in political affairs, the common school was attacked as a Protestant agency, hostile in spirit to the Catholic Church. When the Protestants replied that noth- ing was taught in the schools but those fundamental notions of religion on which the Christian world, Catholic and Protestant, agreed, the Catholic leaders centred their attack upon the use of King Jamess version of the Bible, which they claimed could not be permitted to the Cathiohie pupils. It was in their view a Protestant, a sectarian, an imperfect translation of the Scriptures, proselyting in its influence, and dangerous in its tendencies. Iii this view the Catholics were doubtless con- sistent and sincere. All attempts to reconcile their differences with the Protestants have been local and temporary. In some places the Catholic scholars have been so few that the question has not been agitated; in some,