f i E CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY FROM Cornell University Library E 173.L82 Studies in histoi 3 1924 028 759 284 Cornell University Library The original of tliis bool< is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924028759284 25p tijc ^ame SCutljoc. f ALEXANDER HAMILTON. In "American Statesmen" Series. i6mo, gilt top, ^i.25 ; half morocco, $3.00. The biography of Mr. Lodge is calm and dignified throughout. He has the vii-tue — rare indeed among biographers — of impartiality. He has done his work with conscientious care, and the biography of Hamilton is a book which cannot have too many readers. It is more than a biography j it is a study in the science of government. — SL Paul Pioueer-Press. There is no one American statesman's career so brilliant in its promise and so fruitful in its ultimate results. Mr. Lodge's compact narration of this career and his clear and sharply defined sketch of the character of the man are admirably executed ; and the book, while interesting and instructive to all, is one which should be placed in the hands of every young American who is ambitious to serve his country. — Pe?in Monthly. DA.NIEL WEBSTER. In "American Statesmen" Series. i6mo, gilt top, $1.25 ; half morocco, ^3.00. It will be read by students of history ; it will be invaluable as a work of refer- ence; it will be an authority as regards matters of fact and criticism; it hits the key-note of Webster's durable and ever-growing fame; it is adequate, calm, impartial ; it is admirable. — Philadelphia Press. BALLADS AND LYRICS. Selected and arranged by Henry Cabot Lodge. i6mo, $1.00; half calf, $2.50 ; morocco, $3.50. Holiday Edition. With twenty-four full-page illustrations. 8vo, full gilt, ^3.cmd; half calf, $5.50; morocco, or tree calf, $7.50. As for its use in schools, the only criticism to be made upon it is that it is too rich ; but the boy or girl who began to use it in school would profit by its wealth in coming years, and would only prize it the more with maturer culture, judg- ment, and taste. — A. P. Peabodv, D. D., of Harvard University, and member of the Cambridge School Committee. *#* For sale by all Booksellers. Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt 0/ price by the Publishers, HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY, Boston. STUDIES IN HISTORY HENRY CABOT LODGE AUTHOR OF "life AND LETTERS OF GEORGE CABOT," "a SHORT HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH COLONIES IN AMERICA," "ALEXANDER HAMILTON " AND " DANIEL WEBSTER " (iN " AMERICAN STATESMEN " SERIES) BOSTON HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street 1885 i. j^'^^ /^CORNEL ,UNfVEHS:' \ LIBRARY y Copyright, 1884, By HENRY CABOT LODGE. All rights reserved. T!ie Riverside Press, Camiriige, Ekctrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co. To Mr Wife. PREFACE. From a number of essays written at various times and on various subjects I have brought these together in a vohime because it seemed to me that they might be of some interest to students and lovers of our his- tory. With one exception they all bear directly on the history of the United States, and the group relat- ing to certain Federalist leaders and their contempo- raries forms a closely connected series of biographical studies in the history of that famous party. My thanks are due to the editor of the " North American Review " and to the editor of the " Magazine of Amer- ican History" for permission to use two articles which originally appeared in those periodicals and which are reprinted in this volume in a much extended form and with many changes. H. C. LODGE. Boston, March 8, 1884. OONTEI^TS. PAGE The Puritans anb the Restoration 1 A Puritan Pepys 21 The Early Days op Fox 85 William Cobbett 110 Alexander Hamilton 132 Timothy Pickering 182 Caleb Strong 224 Albert Gallatin 263 Daniel Webster 294 Colonialism in the United States 330 French Opinions of the United States, 1840-1881 . . 307 STUDIES IN HISTORY. THE PUEITANS AND THE EESTOEATION. The world is fortunate in having at last a Life of John Milton in every way worthy of its subject. It is high praise to the biographer to be able to say this, but Mr. Masson entirely deserves it. In six volumes he has told the story of Milton's life, and of the stir- ring times in which the poet lived ; and the work, as a whole, is one upon which any man may be well con- tent to rest his literary reputation. Mr. Masson has shown throughout patience, care, and thoroughness of investigation and research in a high degree, and there are many passages conspicuous for penetrating and original criticism and for forcible and picturesque de- scription. The work is of course open to criticism, but chiefly in matter of form. It is not weU, as a rule, to combine history and biography as Mr. Masson has done, for the interest is thus divided ; the reader is continually taken back and forth from the general to the particular, from the nation to the individual. Some plan very like this would be absolutely neces- sary in writing the life of Oliver Cromwell, but it is 1 2 STUDIES IN HISTORY. not, except for a brief period, essential in the case of John Milton. Then, again, Mr. Masson's love and admiration for his hero have carried him away into almost unlimited detail, which becomes at times mere antiquarianism. Such, for example, in large measure, is the last chapter in regard to Milton's remote de- scendants and the famous editions of his works. The one subject is suited to genealogy, the other to bibli- ography; but unrestrained indulgence in them here weighs down the brilliant story of a life of absorbing and dramatic interest. The facts known with abso- lute certainty concerning Milton's last years are very meagre, and might be fully and effectively stated in a few pages ; but Mr. Masson devotes chapters to spec- ulations, not only as to where and how Milton lived after the fall of the Commonwealth, but as to his probable thoughts and feelings with reference to cur- rent events. Much of this speculation is very inter- esting, and in the descriptions of Milton and others in supposed but likely situations, Mr. Masson shows a great deal of imagination and artistic skill. Never- theless, the tendency is to prolong these imaginings beyond judicious limits, and the same disj^osition to run into detail is manifested here and there in the more purely historical portions of the book, as in the minute accounts and frequent summaries of the fates of the regicides. All this tends to distract the attention instead of concentrating it, and thus to ob- scure the very great merits of the work as a whole. Yet after all deductions and criticisms have been THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 3 made, this " Life of Milton " is a fine and valuable con- tribution to English history and one of great and en- during worth, and the concluding volume ^ is not the least important part of it, for it deals with a subject of very deep interest and with a great historical problem. The Restoration was a most important period, and the fate of the Puritan party, after the accession of Charles II., is a matter of absorbing historical interest. What that fate was is well known, but its causes are not even yet wholly explained, although in the main they can be understood. The questions to which the fall and sub- sequent history of the Puritans give rise are not fully answered in this volume, and probably never can be, but Mr. Masson has thrown a great deal of light upon them and offers many striking suggestions. It is in the light thus given and with the aid of these sug- gestions that I wish to consider the Puritans and the Restoration. The period of the Restoration is one of strong con- trasts and of great events. It is also without excep- tion the most contemptible period, politically and mor- ally, in the whole history of the English race, albeit tradition has gilded its vices and given to it virtues which it never possessed. For generations — and even now, no doubt, in certain portions of English society— it derived countenance and protection from the creed which set up Charles I. as a saint, termed the Puritan revolution an unholy rebellion, and consigned Oliver 1 The Life of John Milton and History of his Time. By David Masson, M. A., LL. D. Vol. vi. 1660-1674. 4 STUDIES IN HISTORY. Cromwell to the direst limbo of historical criminals. Slowly but surely, however, time has done its work. Confusing and misleading details have been put in order or have disappeared ; the veil of interested de- ception has been rent asunder, and solid, substantial truth has compelled acknowledgment. Within the last half century Macaulay and Carlyle have laid their strong hands upon the historical fabric reared by fer- vent royalism nearly two centuries ago, and have torn it down. Others have followed through the breach thus made, and it is now no longer necessary to enter into argument to show that Oliver Cromwell was the greatest soldier and statesman combined that England has ever produced ; that John Hampden is, on the whole, the finest representative of the English gentle- man, and John Pym one of the greatest, as he was one of the earliest, in the splendid line of English parlia- mentary leaders. The grandeur of the period which opened with the Long Parliament and closed with the death of the Protector is established beyond the pos- sibility of doubt. During that period church and crown were overthrown, a king was executed, great battles were fought, Scotland was conquered, and Ire- land pacified for the first and last time. From a condition of abject debasement abroad England was raised to a commanding position in the civilized world. Robert Blake established once more her naval suprem- acy, the Dutch were defeated, new colonies were added to the empire, Puritan soldiers won the admiration of Europe, and there was no western monarch who did THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 5 not respect and fear the name of Oliver Cromwell and of the Commonwealth he protected. The great Puritan died. There was a short period of weak government and jarring factions; and then Monk, at the head of the Puritan army, restored Charles II. to the throne which he could never have gained for himself. Then came the twenty years and more of the Restoration. What can they show in com- parison with that which had gone before? From being the fii'st power in Europe, England sank into the posi- tion of a French dependency. The sovereign of Eng- land became a pensioner of the French king, and Eng- lish statesmen received bribes from the same defiling source. In two doubtful wars with the chief Protest- ant state of Europe, England suffered humiliation and defeat. The Dutch burned English ships at Chatham, and fire and pestilence desolated the capital. The statute-book was loaded with oppressive laws against the non-conformists, while Charles and his brother wove secret plots to bring back the Roman Church. Politics were stifled in intrigue and agitation, which resulted in the infamous popish plot and in the ill- starred rebellion of Monmouth. Corruption held full sway in every department of the public service, and the thriving colonies of America were wrung to yield a subsistence to needy and dissolute courtiers. The morals of the court were on a level with the public policy. There was, in fact, no morality among the ruling classes, and the viciousness of public affairs was increased tenfold in private life. From the king, with 6 STUDIES IN HISTORY. his harem of mistresses, home-bred and imported, down to the lowest hanger-on at Whitehall, there was neither sense, morals, nor manners in the court, as Charles himself said of Lord Jeffries, in a comparison more forcible than delicate. To know how vile it all was it is only necessary to read De Grammont. There is, moreover, no greater mistake than to accept the pleasant legend that this moral rottenness had a fair exterior, and as this fact has never been put better, so far as I am aware, than by Mr. Masson, we will quote his words : — " The familiar representation of the court of Charles II. as a court of fine and gracious manners, — a court in which ' vice itself lost half its evil by losing all its grossness,' — is a lying tradition. The principal men and women of that court, though dressed finely and living luxuriously, spoke and thought among themselves in the language of the sham- bles and the dissecting-room." Coarse debauchery was the characteristic of the court, and meanness in the most superlative degree that of tho i^olitics, of Charles II. What was there to redeem all this? Accord- ing to the popular theory of that day the reign of the saints had crushed out all the finer and more grace- ful parts of human existence, and arts and literature had withered before them. Here at least the Resto- ration — genial, jovial, with relaxed morals and the sunshine of royal favor — should have produced a plentiful harvest. Tradition affirms that this was the case; and here agaiu tradition lies. It is true that THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 7 the scientific movement, begun under the Common- wealth, made rapid progress, and that the Eoyal So- ciety favored by Charles, who had, or feigned to have, a pretty taste for science, grew apace and did good work. This was the best, indeed almost the only, in- tellectual glory of the period of the Eestoration. It is also true that the theatres came back with Charles, but that was aU. The literature of the Restoration, so called, belonged at first to an earlier period, and never produced anything of great credit to the Eng- lish race, with the exception of that which bore the names of John Dryden and Samuel Butler. The the- ory was that literature revived with splendid efful- gence when the king got his own again. It is well worth while to follow Mr. Masson's examination of this question, and witness his destruction of this pleasing royalist fancy. After the Restoration in 1660 we find Davenant, Denham, Waller, Cowley, and Marvell the most prom- inent names in the literature of the day, — all sur- vivals from the reign of Charles I. and from the Com- monwealth, and all men whose best work had been already done. There were, besides, a mmiber of in- ferior dramatists, such as Cokain and Crowne, and verse-writers and poetasters among the courtiers, like Sedley and Sackville, Earl of Dorset. John Dryden, of Puritan family and origin, had turned from eulo- gies of Cromwell to panegyrics on Charles, and was at this period pouring out his plays, which are chiefly remarkable as showing how very badly a man of real 8 STUDIES IN HISTORY. genius can write. They are on this account a literary- curiosity, but few persons now read them, and those who do so waste their labor. Dryden's tragedies are not only unreal, but dull to the last point; and his comedies are not merely dull, but heavily and stu- pidly coarse. The system of rhyming tragedies, ap- proved by Charles and adopted by Dryden, was a fail- ure, and not even the poet's command of language and showy and sometimes splendid rhetoric have been able to hide poverty of thought and failure to delineate character, or to save his plays from deserved oblivion. It was not until the Restoration period was in its sec- ond decade that Dryden, by his manly and vigorous satires, by odes which are among the best in the lan- guage, and later still by his translation of Virgil, won the high place to which his great talents entitled him. Even his genius was for many years debased and dis- torted by the atmosphere in which he lived. Another man of genuine ability, who, although well advanced in life, may fairly claim a place in the liter- ature of the Restoration, was Butler. Although the merits of " Hudibras " have been exaggerated, be- cause largely taken on trust, yet no one can question the power and merit of the poem. It is a rough, strong, grotesque satire, full of point and force, and did more to put the defects of the Puritans in a ridic- ulous and glaring light, and give popular currency to their faults, real and supposed, than anything which has ever been written. The terse and stinging sen- tences of the mock epic were, when they first ap- THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 9 peared, in every one's mouth ; but their author lived and died a neglected and morose man, bequeathing a volume of posthumous papers, full of bitter flings against mankind. There was in fact no great outburst of literary ac- tivity at the beginning of the Restoration period, and nothing that bears the stamp of that event. With the exception of Dryden and Butler, there was no lit- erature of the Restoration, strictly speaking, until we come to the writers brought forth by the opening of the theatres, — to Congreve, Wycherly, Farquhar, and Van Brugh. These dramatists were unquestion- ably the true children of the Restoration, and by their works we may know them. In other fields there was an equal barrenness. If we except John Locke and Jeremy Taylor, there was hardly a single writer of the first eminence — for Ilobbes belonged to a past age — among those who figured in Loudon and in court society. Yet during the early years of Charles's reign and at the time of the most marked literary dearth, there was a great literature, although it was not of the Court or of the Restoration. It was at that time that two of the most~ splendid works in the whole range of English literature were given to the world. One was written by a religious tinker ; the other by the blind Latin secretary of Cromwell. From Bedford Jail came " Pilgrim's Progress," and from a small house in an obscure London street, "Paradise Lost," the greatest of English epics. Puritanism was bitterly 10 STUDIES IN HISTORY. hostile to theatres, to amusements, to all the lighter and more pleasing elements of life. The Puritans rose to power by hard fighting, and during the con- flict and after their ascendency was assured they pro- duced little or nothing in the way of literature. Af- ter their fall the world of fashion looked to the men of the new era for a literature relieved from the shackles of a hypocritical asceticism. But the Muse that came with Charles was, like most of his companions, male and female, a debauched creature at best, who smacked more of intrigue and midnight revels than of aught else ; and it was from the beaten adherents of a fallen cause that the true poetry and the great literature of the time emanated, full of imaginative fire and religious fervor. It was an uncongenial atmosphere for such work; but while the "Pilgrim's Progress" has passed through countless editions and is read wherever the English speech is known, and while " Paradise Lost " has continued to issue from the press in new forms, and has attracted hosts of com- mentators and readers, the literature of the Restora- tion ■ — the literature of Sedley and Sackville, of Con- greve and Wycherly, of Killigrew and Rochester — has gradually slipped out of sight, and is remembered merely for a few clever lyrics, and read only by those who are curious in the matter of old plays. The writings of the two Puritans, born in obscurity and shadowed by contempt and defeat, have thriven and grown from their birth, and struck their roots deep down into the hearts of all English-speaking people, THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 11 but the literature of the Restoration, brought forth in the sunshine of royal and court favor, has, with the exception of Dryden's poetry and Butler's " Hudi- bras," steadily declined in popular favor. The cause of this difference is not far to seek. The work of the Puritans was that of men who believed in a great cause ; and earnest genius is not found among the supporters of such a monarch as Charles, who repre- sented nothing but himself, was unutterably mean, and was identified with a policy of which the most conspicuous quality was falsehood. In a society with such a head and in such a court, there could be no great literature ; no thoroughly fine genius could flour- ish or find an abiding-place among such surroundings. Successful Puritanism may have suppressed imagina- tive literature, but the Eestoration had not the capacity to produce it. "When Puritanism fell, the imaginative side of its character was no longer hidden and re- pressed, but found expression in the works of Milton and Bunyan. Charles and his court were not the whole of the Eestoration period, but they were at once the most important and the worst part of it. The king and his courtiers and favorites were the men who set the fashion, who made vice the stamp of birth and breed- ing, who degraded England at home and abroad, and plotted for the return of a hated religion. The only real strength Charles possessed lay in a shrewd selfish- ness, which kept him from extremes, and which never lost sight of his one great aim, — never to go again 12 STUDIES IN HISTORY. upon his travels. The stupider and more honest James puslied openly the policy which Charles had carried on in the dark, and reaped the harvest which his brother had sown by being driven from his throne. In this miserable period improvement begins only as we descend in the scale of fashion, society, and office. The narrow-minded cavalier Parliament, which sat so long, was finally so corrupt, and which abused its power so grievously, was still a respectable body in comparison with the court faction. It was sound in a certain way, and had some redeeming traits. Charles, for instance, did not dare to let it know of his bargains with Louis ; for those little transactions would have cost him his crown, even with the adherents of Church and State. The cavalier Parliaibent was capable of the most unmanly vengeance upon its fallen foes, and indulged in virident religious intolerance ; but it hated the papacy, and in the excitement of the popish plot were ready to go almost any lengths against the crown in defense of Protestantism. The royalist knights and squires could descend to the unspeakable mean- ness, to the pitiable revenge, of tearing up the grave of Oliver Cromwell, and placing the skull of the great- est ruler England ever had upon Temple Bar ; they could drag from their resting-place the bones of Rob- ert Blake, in whose lifetime no Dutch fleet would have burned shipping in the Thames : yet at the same time they were ready to give freely and fight bravely against England's enemies, and they would not, as a body, have sold their country as their king was doing. THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 13 If we descend a step farther we come on the scat- tered strength of Puritanism, the great middle classes, — the tradesmen, the farmers, the gentry, and the dissenting clergy. They were beaten, broken, and groaning under the inflictions of the Test Act, the Five-Mile Act, and other similar laws ; many of their leaders had perished on the scaffold, others were in exile, fleeing through the hamlets of New England or sheltered among the mountains of the Swiss Republic ; yet their spirit was still the same. No people were ever put to a harder trial than they were when re- li-eved from oppression by the royal suspension of the persecuting acts of Parliament. The device was a shrewd one, but it failed. The Puritans and the dis- senting sects preferred persecution by law to immun- ity secured by an unwarrantable stretch of the royal prerogative, and designed to open the door to the re- establishment of the Church of Rome. There are few acts in history more heroic than the quiet man- ner in which the English dissenters, without organiza- tion and without leaders, gave their support to the Parliament which persecuted them, and sustained hateful laws in opposition to the king, who, for pur- poses of his own, gave them illegal relief as a means of helping the papist cause. But from whatever point we approach the Restora- tion and study its features, the one ever - recurring problem is the position of the Puritans. Why were they an utterly beaten, broken, and helpless people ? Whatever their mistakes may have been, they had 14 STUDIES IN HISTORY. done great deeds. They had shattered Church and State ; they had fought aud won innumerable battles ; they had xjroduced some of the greatest statesmen and generals in English history ; they had raised England to a great place in the world, and had governed strongly and well. What had become of this power- ful body of men ? "Where was the great country party of the Long Parliament ? Where were the soldiers who had stood silent before Charles on Blackheath? They were in a numerical minority, no doubt, but they were strong enough to have drenched England in blood if they had been united ; and yet they did not have even the respect accorded to an opposition. They do not appear even as an opposition. They had no standing as a party, and no political power or in- fluence. They are heard of during the Kestoration simply as the victims of persecuting acts. The con- trast between the Puritan party at the death of Oliver and the Puritan party five years later is tremendous. It may be argued that this was simply the result of a crushing political defeat. But this theory falls to the ground if we examine the condition of the Puri- tan states beyond the Atlantic. In New England the Puritans had not been immediately touched by the Restoration. They had never leaned upon Cromwell for support but had always preserved a sturdy inde- pendence. They were too distant to feel the malign influences of the court or to suffer from the persecut- ing acts — and they had full control of the states which they had founded. Yet there is nevertheless THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 15 a distinct decline in force among the New England Puritans during the period of the Restoration. The tone adopted toward Charles II. is very different from that employed with his father in the days when these flourishing colonies were feeble settlements. In Mas- sachusetts under the guidance of some of the old lead- ers the attempts of Charles to gain control were suc- cessfully and daringly defeated in the spirit of an earlier day, but at the same time a class of men was growing up even there in the midst of the most un- tainted Puritanism who were ready to betray their country to James and take advantage of the timidity which was spreading through the whole people. The condition of New England makes it manifest that the decline of the Puritans in power and energy was due to general and far-reaching causes. The brief period of faction and turbulence which intervened between the Protectorate and the Restora- tion is no explanation. The state of the Puritan party under Charles, both in Old and New England, must find its causes much farther back and deeper down than in the weak government of Richard Cromwell, or the insurrections of Lambert and the Fifth-Monarchy men. The death of one man sufficed apparently to break the power of the Puritan party forever, and that fact in itself shows that the party as such must have been really ruined long before. The Puritans were the greatest political party England has ever pro- duced, and they fell more suddenly, and completely, than any other party that ever existed. Once down. 16 STUDIES IN HISTORY. they never rose again. To find the true explanation of this, it is necessary to go back to the meeting of the Long Parliament. When that famous body as- sembled the people were groaning under all sorts of oppression. The attempt to convert the government of England into an absolute monarchy had failed, and the country party moved from one reform to an- other, with the irresistible force of the national wiU. behind them. Hyde and Frankland united with Pym and Hampden in the redress of grievances. Then came a further step, — the Grand Remonstrance ; and after a heated contest, in which swords were drawn in the House of Commons, the Puritans prevailed, and the Long Parliament was divided into two parties. Hyde and Frankland and the moderate royalists parted company with the leaders of the country party. Then was the critical moment. It was possible to go on from the point which had been reached harmoni- ously and peacef idly, and by the slow but sure proc- ■ esses of political and constitutional growth. On the other hand, it was within the power of either party to take extreme measures, which would breed retaliation and change reform to revolution. If Charles I. had frankly and honestly accepted the situation ; if he had formed his ministry of Hyde and Frankland and some of the more moderate Puritans and then acted in good faith, the great rebellion would never have been fought. But it was not in Charles, whose most conspicuous quality was falsehood, to behave honestly to any one. He deceived his friends and played into the hands of THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 17 his enemies, and war became inevitable. Even dur- ing the civil war the course of events might have been arrested, but at every point Charles's character stood in the way and was an insuperable obstacle. If a rev- olution is once started, it is very easy to push it from one extreme to another, .until it has gone so far that retreat, or even a halt, is impossible ; and the charac- ter of one man, if that man happens to be a king, is sufficient to exercise a controlling influence. So it was with Charles I. He persisted in extreme measures and in trickery and fraud, until he was brought to the block, and the last links which bound people to the past were hopelessly severed. A large body of men had been forced into a position from which they could not retreat and which they could not hold. They were obliged to advance and so the inevitable process went on, — reform, revolution, extreme measures, the sepa- ration from the moderate royalists, the separation from the Presbyterians and moderate Puritans, unsettled government, faction, turbulence, a wild demand for order, and at last the savior of society at the head of the army. Then came the efforts of the party of order, a small party of extreme men, who were the strongest and most determined of their time, to bring the nation over to their side, and to make the system which they had set up acceptable to all. The story of Cromwell's failures in this direction is familiar ; yet if he could have had twenty years more of life, if he had been dealing with a different race, he might have succeeded. As it was, he transmitted his power undi- 2 18 STUDIES IN HISTORY. minlshecl. Richard Cromwell was proclaimed every- where in England and in the colonies, and was ac- cepted without a murmur ; but the sceptre had fallen into nerveless hands before the new order of things was fairly established, and the work of the great Pro- tector was undone. The country relapsed at once into the period of faction and turbulence from which it had begun to emerge. Again the irresistible cry for order and for a savior of society was heard, but there was no Cromwell to respond. There was the army as before, but its leader was Monk. Two paths to order are open after revolution has reached the stage of chaos : one is through despotism, through the rule of the strong leader generated by the times ; the other is through reaction and a return to the old system. England had tried the first, and failed. The second was then alone possible ; and Monk, at the head of the Puritan army, restored Charles. At first matters moved slowly, but with a constantly accelerating pace until after Charles had actually landed, and then the reaction swept over the whole land. There was a new party of order, and this time they had the nation with them. We have already glanced at the wretched period that followed. Meanness, tyranny, immorality, — all these the country bore with in patience for the sake of peace ; but when defeat by foreign enemies and consequent disgrace ensued, even the overmastering love of order could not stifle the recollection of the glorious period which had depai-ted. Curses were THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 19 muttered against the Court, and after the Dutch had been in the Thames Pepys writes : " It is strange how everybody do now-a-days reflect upon Oliver and com- mend him, what brave things he did, and made all the neighbour princes fear him." They had good reason to reflect upon Oliver ; but it was too late, and they were paying the heavy penalty which reaction and restoration always bring to those who fail to snatch from revolution the opportunities it gives, which are so little understood at the moment, and pass away so rapidly and irrevocably. There was no use in sighing for Oliver. The great party which had placed him over its armies had gone to pieces, by its own excesses and quarrels, before he obtained supreme control. The Protectorate was the end of the Puritan party, and unless Cromwell could have developed a new or- der the old order was bound to come back, and if it did there was no Puritan party to confront it. The Puritan movement cuhninated in the civil war. It had done its work, and unless it could develop a new, moderate, and yet vigorous system, it was sure to perish under adversity. The intensity of the Long Parliament and the rebellion was self-limited, and something had to be found to take its place. The Puritans could not keep up the movement which had borne them to power, and they failed to find a sub- stitute. In New England they put their theories into practical operation and tried their experiment fully, and yet even there Puritanism sank after the death of CromweU, more slowly it is true, but just as surely as 20 STUDIES IN HISTORY. it did in England beneath the jjoisonous influence of Charles, the oppression of the cavalier Parliament, and the heavy hand of James. But because Puritanism failed to establish a new system, because the Puritan party was wrecked, it is of course a grievous mistake to suppose that their work and their existence had been failures. They had cut loose from the past irrevocably. No reaction could put Charles II. in the place occupied by his father. The Puritans had fought the great rebellion and opened a new era in English history, and the work they had performed made the revolution which overthrew James a certainty and a necessity. To them England owes the constitutional monarchy, which might have come under Charles I. without bloodshed, and which did come under William III., after two civil wars. They left an impress upon the constitu- tion, and upon society, politics, and popular thought which centuries have not been able to efface. But all this they did not see and could not know. They sank under the Restoration, broken, dispirited, oppressed. Yet in the midst of ruin and defeat, when it was de- spised and rejected of men, the genius of Puritanism rose strong and clear, and John Milton gave to the world his immortal epic, — a last victory and a fit close to the career of a party which had wrought such wonderful works and which had shaped the destiny of nations. A PURITAN PEPYS. There are two kinds of history — one written by- historians and antiquarians, the other by the poet, the dramatist, or the novelist. The latter seize the spirit and the essential truth of the past age and often pre- sent it, if not so accurately, more impressively and with more realistic force than any one else. Who can doubt that the kings and queens, the lords and commons of England thought and acted and appeared as Shakespeare says they did ? It is a constant source of surprise not to find the speeches which the poet has put into their mouths recorded in the national ar- chives, and duly confirmed by unimpeachable contem- porary docmnents. So, in New England, the history with which we are most familiar is that according to Nathaniel Hawthorne. Now dark and sombre, now warm and full of sunlight, always picturesque and imaginative, the story of the past, disconnected and uncertain, but yet vivid and real, has been woven by the hand of the enchanter to charm and fascinate all who listen. In Hawthorne's pages the ancient Puri- tan society, austere and rigid, and the later colonial aristocracy, laced and powdered, live and move, a de- light to the present generation. But over all alike, over grave and gay, over the forbidding and the at- 22 STUDIES IN HISTORY. tractive, the delicate and morbid genius of the novelist has cast an air of mystery. In these stories we live in an atmosphere of half-told secrets, which are withal so real that we cannot help believing that somewhere, in some musty records or in letters yellow with time, we shall find answers to the questionings with which they fill our minds. Surely there must have been some one who had peeped beneath the black veil, who had known Maule and the Pyncheons, who had seen the prophetic pictures, who could tell us what the lit- tle world of Boston said about Hester Prynne and lit- tle Pearl, about Arthur Dimmesdale and Roger Chil- lingworth. One cannot help looking on every page of New England history for the characters of Haw- thorne, and for an explanation of their lives. Disap- pointment always ensues, but hope is revived with each old manuscript that finds its way into print. This is especially the case with the Sewall diary,i the publication of which has at last been completed by the Massachusetts Historical Society and which con- stitutes the most important work of original authority in the whole range of New England history. Its exist- ence has long been known, and historians have occa- sionally drawn upon its stores for evidence of isolated facts. But for the most part, even those who knew anything about it were only aware that it covered a . long period in New England history, was written by a man of social and political eminence, and was rich 1 The Sewall Diary. Collections of the Massachusetts His- torical Society, Fifth Series, vols, v., vi., and viL A PURITAN PEPYS. 23 in details of daily life and personal experience. This long record of more than half a century covers a large part of the history of Massachusetts prior to the Revolution. The period embraced in the diary was, at first, one of great political change, and after- wards of profound repose ; and it is to this time that most of the traditions and doubtful stories of early New England belong. The last, the most important, and the most personal of all the historical documents of the time, the Sewall diary, has gradually drawn to itself the mystery and secrecy which Hawthorne im- parted to the early history of Massachusetts. In a work so extensive, so minute, so long hidden from the public eye, it seemed as if the curiosity awakened by the great story-teller must be satisfied. One could not help feeling that in this very journal, perhaps, Hawthorne discovered strange traditions and dark suggestions, and found, in the exact description of the unimaginative diarist, models for his own wonderful pictures of the past. Such a fancy unfortunately fades away as we read the printed pages. Hawthorne had no " authorities," and we are fain to be content with the belief that he was not able to solve his own riddles. We open the handsome and carefully edited volumes and drop at once into the region of fact.. Yet there is one great question which the diary can answer. From the multitudinous minutes of the worthy judge, we are able to extract material for a tolerably accurate picture of the men and the society depicted by the genius of Hawthorne. 24 STUDIES IN HISTORY. Henry r'^ewall, grandson to one of the same name who was Mayor of Coventry in Elizabeth's time, came to Massachusetts in the first Puritan emigration, mar- ried there and returned to England, where, in 1652, his son Samuel, the author of the diary, was born. In 1661 Samuel SewaU returned to New England with his mother, and in 1668 entered Harvard Col- lege, where he graduated in due course in 1671. The SewaU family belonged to that important class of land- holding Puritan gentry which furnished leaders for the famous " country party," and which numbered among its representatives Oliver Cromwell and John Hampden. The Sewalls were evidently people of con- sideration, and owned estates in England, to the dis- position of which the diarist makes frequent allusions. I have called Samuel SewaU " A Puritan Pepys," and the description is by no means so fanciful as might be supposed. From the fact that they were in a measure. contemporary, a comparison of the two diarists is obvious, but the first impression is of the strange contrast between them rather than of -any similarity. Pepys was twenty years older than Sew- aU, and his diary ceases nearly six years before that of the latter begins. Pepys lived in London, the great metropolis of a great nation. He was a gay man of the world and also a man of affairs, an active politician, an office-holder, a member of Parliament, and a courtier. He was a constant attendant at the play, went assiduously into the fashionable world, de- lighted to note the appearance of the King's many A PURITAN PEPYS. 25 mistresses, was versed in all the current scandal, loved the other - Sfix not wisely but too well, and was, in short, a man about town in a licentious society and frivolous age. At the same time, Pepys played his part on a greater stage. He was a somewhat conspic- uous figure in the history of England at an important period. He was connected with weighty affairs of state, and prospered by the favor and suffered from the enmity of kings. Our Massachusetts diarist, on the other hand, lived in a small town in a remote col- ony. He had no amusements, even had he desired them, and passed his life in the cares of business and of religion. An active public man, the affairs with which he was constantly engaged rarely rose to more than local interest ; the society in which he moved was rigid and austere, and the monotony of existence must have been intense. Yet, after all, between the gay politician of the Eestoration and the grave Puritan judge there is a marked and interesting likeness. Possibly certain fixed qualities of mind and character must be com- mon to all good diarists, but, however this may be, if Pepys had been brought up as a Puritan and lived in New England, one cannot help thinking that he would have been much like Sewall. Beneath the superficial differences we can find the deep resemblances, Pepys, in an irreligious and de- bauched society, was a good churchman and punctual in the performance of his le^i;:" ^us duty; and religion, although of a widely different type, was, of couted, 26 STUDIES IN HISTORY. the engrossing thought of Sewall. Both were fond of gossip, good observers, patient, industrious, and of moderate dispositions. Pepys had a strong sense of what was right, but the worldly side was uppermost always. The religious element preponderated with Sewall, but he too had a keen sense of worldly ad- vantages which crops out constantly and in a most incongruous fashion. Pepys, as I have said, was fond of the other sex, and the animal instincts in his nar ture were checked only by his extreme prudence. It is curious to observe the same cautious disposition in Sewall, which, taken with the overpowering religious influence, would seem sufficient to have extinguished all grosser passions. Yet the sensual qualities were only repressed. They break out strangely now and then through the iron bonds of Puritanism, and espe- cially in the courtships of the more than middle-aged man after the death of his first wife. They were both also good public servants, upright and faithful, and they had strong literary tastes, and each in his way was a scholar, student, and lover of books. But wholly apart from historical considerations, it is the strong personal quality which has made Pepys the most amusing and enduring of diarists. We read in his pages the whole history of a human heart. Nothing about himself is too trifling to be noticed, and this is the very thing which makes the book a delight and gives it the immortality which all true pictures of human nature obtain. To write a diary of this sort requires frank vanity and perfect honesty. These es- A PURITAN PEPYS. 27 Bential qualities Pepys and Sewall have in common, and therefore they are profoundly similar. Neither ever tired of talking about his own affairs, and while he depicts the life ahout liiiii, drav/s a still more vivid picture of iiimseif. 'Uiere is more, much more, of general value, of course, in Pepys than in Sewall ; but after thr(jwing aside from the latter the mass of trivi- alities which are necessarily recorded, we find in him, as in his English contemporary, a similar tale of hu- man experience which, well and frankly told, must always have an undying and universal interest. In one important respect Sewall has been more for- tunate than Pepys, who has suffered grievous things from his translators and editors. To publish an ex- purgated edition of the latter was very well perhaps, but to go deliberately to work and print a second edi- tion fuller and more elaborate than the first, and yet not complete, was stupid in the highest degree. Pepys is not intended for Sunday-schools, but he is a great historical authority. The most honest of writers, both he and his public are entitled to an absolutely perfect transcript of his diary, and those who are too deli- cate to read it can buy a modified version. Unluckily the last expurgator has probably prevented a com- plete edition for many years to come. Sewall, on the contrary, has been blessed with honest as well as learned editors. Only one trifling passage has been suppressed, and the wholo stoiy is before us to do with and judge of as we list. The diary begins in IC . i. At that time Massachu- 28 STUDIES IN HISTORY. setts was still under tlie independent government framed by the founders. She was still the free Puri- tan Conmionwealth conducted according to the Puritan theory of an indivisible church and state, where the test of citizenship was godliness. Scarcely ten years had elapsed since her bold and sagacious magistrates had driven the meddling commissioners of ^he King of England from her borders. But time and delay, which had worked with Massachusetts against Charles I., and finally gave her victory, had a precisely oppo- site result in the contest with Charles II. The scourge of Indian hostility had fallen upon the Commonwealth and was draining her resources. Philip's war broke out in 1675, and Sewall records many massacres and surprises, "lamentable fights and formidable engage- ments," and notes in a matter-of-fact way repeated ex- ecutions of Indian prisoners on Boston Common. The Puritans were slow to anger, but when aroused by In- dian atrocities they waged war upon the savages with the persistence, the merciless thoroughness, and the calm determination which was peculiar to their race and creed. Samuel SewaU was a man of gentle and peaceable nature, but he writes in 1676, " As to our enemies, God hath in a great measure given us to see our desire on them. Most ringleaders in the late mas- sacre have themselves had blood to drink, endinff their lives by bullets and halters." After making due al- lowance for the phrase .of an elder day, there stiU re- mains a certain fierceness in this expression, and yet it would be unjust to attribute it to a mere spirit of A PURITAN PEPYS. 29 vindictive exaltation. The words are typical of the men. Their enemies were God's enemies, and they were themselves the chosen instruments of Divine ven- geance. Such words from such a man show the stern character which rendered the Puritans invincible and which, in the performance of duty, made them ready to march through slaughter even to the throne. But besides the exhaustion produced by this war, other causes were at work in Massachusetts which destroyed her independence and brought the great Puritan experiment to ruin. Wealth had increased, and a timid, conservative class had grown up who were not ready, like their ancestors, to take to the woods rather than submit to the Stuart. A liberal but at the same time debilitating spirit was creeping into the church, as was shown by the failing strength of the once all-powerful clergy. The systems of church and state were breaking down together. The for- mer made a more prolonged struggle than the latter to maintain itself, as was apparent in the witchcraft excitement, and in the desperate effort to retain con- trol of the college. But all was in vain, and while it was thus weakened at home the cause of the New England Puritan was hopeless abroad. There was no longer a great party in sympathy with them in the mother country and master of the government. Their friends in England were beaten, broken, and dispir- ited, and their own success in settling the new country drew upon them the attention of the ministry. In 1674 Eandolph was already at work, and the train 30 STUDIES TN HISTORY. was laid wliicli in a few years shattered the beloved charter government. Conservatism and timidity soon changed under the influence of external power into division and discord, and the people of Massachusetts no longer presented a united front to the royal power. A set of men became prominent who were trusted by the people, and were ready to betray them and become the servants of England. To this new party of pre- rogative and submission the government of Massachu- setts was committed after the dissolution of the char- ter. Then followed the stupid and oppressive policy of James II., the revolt against Andros, and the ap- parent recovery of the old liberties. But the appear- ance was deceptive. The spell was broken, the Puri- tan Commonwealth, as it had been designed by its founders, perished with the charter and could not be revived. After a few faint efforts, Massachusetts re- lapsed into the commonplace and fairly liberal provin- cial government accorded her by William of Orange. Sewall's diary begins when the government of the founders still prevailed, and was in seeming as strong and vigorous as ever. It comes down through the suc- ceeding years of rapid transition, and ends when the provincial system had been long established. The colonial period is dark and forbidding, though not without a gloomy picturesqueness, and is elevated and honored by the high aims and great objects of its act- ors. But it is stern and cold like the New England winter, and we turn from it with a certain feeling of re- lief to the baser provincial period of petty interests and A PURITAN PEPYS. 31 material wealth. If the former resembles New Ensr- o land's winter, the latter suggests its sunmier. There is warmth and light and the repose of a summer's day about the provincial times. There were no great questions then and no great struggles, only a complete and unambitious quiet. We think of the people at that time as living in romantic old houses with seven gables, and basking in the sunshine at their doors and in their pleasant gardens, their sole interests being the affairs of the^ peaceful villages, to which the confused noises of the great world came only in distant mur- murs. The historical and social temperature of Sew- all's diary varies, therefore, considerably. The first volume, beginning in the colonial period, covers the loss of the charter, the rapid changes which followed, and concludes with the establishment of the new sys- tem. The two last volumes give the most perfect pic- ture that we possess of Massachusetts under the pro- vincial government, opening in the reign of William III. and closing some years after the accession of George II. Politically, therefore, the first volume possesses a greater interest than either of its succes- sors. But its chief value in this respect is in the knowl- edge we obtain of the character of the writer, because we there find the clew to the unsuccessful and feeble resistance offered by Massachusetts to the second at- tack upon her charter. Sewall was a representative of the most devout English Puritans, but he was of a submissive, not an aggressive temper. He was hon- estly attached to the old church and state government 32 STUDIES IN HISTORY. of the early settlers. His political and religious prin- ciples were thoroughly Puritan, and he had an almost morbid dislike of innovations of all sorts. He became at an early period a deputy and then a magistrate under the old charter government, and he sadly records the events which led to its destruction. But it seems never to have occurred to him to oppose a vigorous resistance to the encroachments of the royal power. He bowed before the storm, accepted the loss of the charter as inevitable, mourned in silence the death of the old system, and took office under the new govern- ments that followed in rapid succession. He was not one of the small minority who would have resisted to the bitter end, still less did he belong to the party of the crown. He represented the great intermediate body of the people, whose action was decisive, and who, while they clung affectionately to the traditions of their fathers, were not ready to oppose any effectual resistance to the ministerial policy. The character and behavior of Sewall and men like him were the prevail- ing cause of the overthrow of the charter government. It was to such men that the success of the crown and of Joseph Dudley and his faction must be wholly at- tributed. But it is not proper on this account to cen- sure Sewall and the mass of the New England people who thought as he did. Times had changed, and men are to a great extent the creatures of the period in which they live. The terrible spirit which carried the Puritan armies in triumph from the field of Marston Moor to the " crowning mercy " at •Worcester had A PURITAN PEPYS. 33 passed away in England, and Oliver Cromwell had been succeeded by the most contemptible of the Stuarts. In a similar fashion the spirit which had rent St. George's cross from the flag because it was an emblem of idolatry, and which had nerved a new and feeble colony to do battle with England, was nearly extinct in Massachusetts. The great movement of the seventeenth century had spent its force. Prosperity and material well-being, the acquisition of proj)erty, the establishment of society, and radical changes at home and abroad had done their work. The stern and daring fathers were succeeded by gentler and more timid sons. The Puritan experiment was doomed, and in every entry of Sewall's diary, in every feature of his character, we see the causes of the fall of the Puri- tan Commonwealth, of the elevation of Dudley, and of the subsequent successful establishment of a dependent provincial government. But as has already been said, this journal acquires its deepest interest from the picture of a past society, and of forgotten manners and modes of thought which it presents. Sewall had been nearly three years out of college when he began his diary. He was still, however, a resident fellow attached to the college, and performed various duties, for which he was duly remu- nerated. His principal business was to be " common- placed," or, in other words, to deliver religious dis- courses to the students, a task in the highest degree congenial to him, especially as he then contemplated becoming a minister. 34 STUDIES IN HISTORY. The following entry gives a good idea of the nature of college offenses, and the methods of discipline iu vogue in 1674, when Sewall began his diary, and had not yet ventured out into the world : — " Thomas Sargeant was examined by the Corpora- tion. Finally, the advice of Mr. Danforth, Mr. Stough- ton, Mr. Thatcher, Mr. Mather (then present) was taken. This was his sentence: ' That being convicted of speaking blasphemous words concerning the H. G. he should be therefore publickly whipped before all the Scholars. 2. That he should be suspended as to taking his degree of Bachelour (this sentence read be- fore him twice at the Prts. before the committee, and in the library I up before execution.) 3. Sit alone by himself in the Hall uncovered at meals, during the pleasure of the President and Fellows, and be in all things obedient, doing what exercises as ap- pointed him by the President, or else be finally ex- pelled the CoUedge. The first was presently put in execution in the Library (]\Ir. Danforth, Jr., being present) before the Scholars. He kneeled down, and the instrument Goodman Hely attended the Presi- dent's word as to the performance of his part in the work. Prayer was had before and after by the Pres- ident.' " The ludicrous contrast between the " Colleds:e " of 1674 and the great University of the present day is obvious enough, and constitutes perhaps the chief in- terest of the passage. But if we look a little more closely, we find that this apparently trivial entry ex- A PURITAN PEPYS. 35 Mbits the great characteristic which marked English Puritanism in the Old World and the New, and which divides it by an impassable barrier from our modern life. This is the religious element. The offense was one against religion, and both before and after the boy was birched prayer was offered, and inspiration sought. Thus it is througliout the diary, and the religious tone gives to the whole book its principal psychological and historic interest. The fact that the great tide of religious feeling which had swept over England had now begun to ebb, is in itself an advantage to the stu- dent of Puritan doctrines and spiritual thought. The fierce, proselyting, fanatic spirit which had raged like a tornado, and had laid government and churches pros- trate, was no more. The sword had fallen from the hand of the Puritan, the aggressive qualities of his belief had passed away, and only the faith itself re- mained. War, conquest, the extirpation of the ene- mies of the Lord and the stern exercise of power went hand in hand with the religion of Cromwell and his soldiers ; but all these terrible and absorbing interests died with the great Protector. The Puritan of 1675 was occupied only by the religious faith of the Puri- tan of 1650 ; and, divested of outside and exciting in- fluences, the religion of the Puritans can be much better understood and appreciated. This was partic- ularly true of New England, where the reaction pro- duced by the Restoration had not yet made itself felt. Eelisious Puritanism existed in Massachusetts in full force at the close of the seventeenth century, although 36 STUDIES IN HISTORY. the Puritanism of the soldier and the politician had departed. It is true the religious fervor also was be- ginning to decline, but as the fabric goes to pieces we are enabled to analyze the material with which it had been built up. Judge Sewall himself was, moreover, an admirable exponent of the Puritan character at this period. Fortunately for our purpose he was not a minister, but he was a more than commonly devout, earnest, and conscientious layman in a deeply religious community. The workings of his mind are therefore most interesting, and as he notes with sorrow the grad- ual decay of religious observances, and clutches des- perately at principles and j)ractices which were fast falling into disuse, the minutest details of the Puritan system pass before our eyes, and the whole structure of their religion and their course of thought are ex- posed. It is hardly necessary to say that such religious faith no longer exists. There is now plenty of honest and liberal Christianity, of mild-eyed devotion, of enfee- bling superstition, but the religion of Puritan Eng- lishmen is entirely gone. AVe have nothing like it ; we can find no present parallel ; we can with diffi- culty form an accurate conception of what it was. To the Puritan, religion was a stern, terrible, and ever- present reality, a great moving force. It was never absent from his mind. It inspired his loftiest ac- tions, and sanctified the greatest events ; yet at the same time no incident of daily life was so mean or trivial as not to suggest holy thoughts and lead to A PURITAN PEPYS. 37 communion witli God. On the bleak and thinly set- tled shores of New England, religion was the source of every joy, and offered the only intellectual excite- ment which the people either knew or desired. Yet they were withal eminently practical men. They were not slothful in business, because they were fer- vent in spirit. Persistence, work, success, prosperity, material well-being, and social respectability their re- ligion taught them to regard as among the highest duties and most valuable possessions. Thus they tri- lunphed over natural difficulties, as they had jwevailed over armies, while in every circumstance and relation of life, religion pervaded all thought and action. It was a harsh and gloomy, perhaps a repulsive faith, but vigorous, real, and uncompromising to a degree which the world now can hardly imagine. Sewall had a strong desire to be a minister, and such was for some years after leaving college his in- tention. He studied with that view and even essayed to preach. "April 4, Sab. day. I help preach for my master (Mr. Parker) in the afternoon. Being afraid to look on the glass, ignorantly and unwillingly I stood two hours and a half." Want of matter cer- tainly could not have been Sewall's failing, but for some unexplained reason he finally abandoned his pur- pose, though he always retained some of the habits contracted at this time. Many volumes of notes from the sermons which he heard stiU exist. He was very fond of theological discussions, of turning dreams into parables and of moralizing upon every conceivable topic, 68 STUDIES IN HISTORY. and he was also the author of a learned work, bearing the appalling title of "■ I^/ie/iomeiia ApocuJijpticu." During the period of indecision which preceded his choice of a profession, Sewall was in a state of deep religious distress and doubt. November 11, 1675, he writes : " Morning proper fair ; the weather exceeding benign, but (to me) metaphoric, dismal, dark and portentous, some prodegie appearing iu every corner of the skies." This condition of mind endured for some years, for even as late as 1677 he wrote that he was under "great exercise of mind with regard to his spiritual estate." It finally wore off, however, and he settled down into merely an unusually religious lay- man. There was a passing struggle on the question of his joining the Old South Church, but with that exception this phase of religious uncertainty never re- turned. The most curious and interesting feature of the book, and one which is perfectly unvarying, is the religious thought and expression called forth by every trifling event. Examples might be multiplied, but a few will suffice to show a habit of mind which is now as utterly extinct as the mastodon or the icthyosaurus. " Jan. 13, 1676-7. Giving my chickens meat, it came to my mind that I gave them nothing save In- dian corn and water, and yet they eat it and thrived very well, and that that food was necessary for them, how mean soever, which much affected me and con- vinced what need I stood in of spiritual food, and that I should not nauseate daily duties of Prayer, &c. " * * * * Just before I went. Brother Longfel- A PURITAN PEPYS. 39 low came In, which was some exercise to me, he being so ill conditioned and so outwardly shabby. The Lord humble me. As I remember, he came so before ; either upon the funeral of my Father or Johny." The connection of ideas in the following passage, however, is as remarkable as any in the diary. A stranger text than baked pigeons could not readily be found, and the " wisdom of the serpent " can only be r e^ rred to his own shift to get a dinner, f "July 25, 1699. Wheu I came home Sam, Hanah and Joana being gon to Dorchester with Madam Usher to the Lecture, I found the House epipty and Lock'd. Taking the key I came in and made a shift to find a solitary diner of bak'd Pigeons and a piece of Cake. How hapy I were, if I could once become wise as a Serpent and harmless as a Dove ! '^ Anything physical was sure to be given a spiritual application. We find an example of this habit in the following entry : — " Dee. 30. 1702. I was weighed in Col. Byfield's scales : weight one hundred one half one quarter want- ing 3 pounds i. e. 193 pounds Net. Col. Byfield weighed sixty three pounds more than I : had only my close coat on. The Lord add, or take away from this our corporeal weight, so as shaU be most advantagious for our Spiritual growth." A few years later Sewall was the victim of a rob- bery, and both his narration of the incident and the impression it made upon him are highly characteristic. "Lord's Day, June 15th, 1707. I felt myself duU 40 STUDIES IN HISTORY. and heavy and listless as to Spiritual Good ; Carnal, Lifeless; I sigh'd to God, that he would quicken me." " June 16. My House was broken open in two places and about Twenty pounds worth of plate Stolen away and some linen : My Spoon, and knife, and Neckcloth was taken : I said, Is not this an answer of Prayer ? Jane came up, and gave us the Alarm betime in the morn. 1 was. helped to submit to Christ's stroke, and Say, Wellcome Christ." June 19th the " measuring bason" was recovered, and the receiver, a woman, was taken and put in prison. Two days later a shop was entered and the thief, who had also robbed Sewall, was captured, whereupon the diary says : " At night I read out of Caryl on Job, 5. 2. The humble submission to the Stroke of God, turns in to a Kiss — which I thank God, I have in this instance experienced. Laus Deo." There is no indication that he recovered his property, and we are forced to conclude that the " Kiss of God " in this in- stance was the prompt capture and imprisoiunent of both thief and receiver. Some years afterwards his daughter Hannah, who not long before had sustained a painful fall, fell again and injured herself still more severely. SewaU thus narrates the occurrence, under date of " Satterday, July 2. When I got home was grievously surpris'd to find Hanah fallen down the stairs again, the Kotula of he Left Knee broken, as the other was; and a great Gash cut across he Eight Legg just below the J PURITAN PEP VS. 41 Knee which were fain to stitch. Much blood issued out. The Lord Sanctify this Smarting Rod to me, and mine ! This cloud returning after the Rain ! Broke her Right Knee-pan the fifth of August, 1714." This constant moralizing upon the most trivial as well as the gravest events, and this unceasing flow of religious thought, bore with peculiar severity upon the children of the community. The utter grimness of the thorough English Puritanism comes out with full force in such a passage as the following : — " Sabbath, Jan. 12. Richard Dumer, a flourishing youth of 9 years, dies of the Small Pocks. I tell Sam. of it and what need he had to prepare for Death, and therefore to endeavour really to pray when he said over the Lord's Prayer : He seem'd not much to mind, eating an Aple ; but when he came to say. Our father, he burst out into a bitter Cry, and when I askt what was the matter, and he could speak, he burst into a bitter Cry, and said he was afraid he should die. I pray'd with him, and read Scriptures comforting against death, as O death where is thy sting, &c. All things yours. Life and Immortality brought to light by Christ, &c. 'Twas at noon." Having frightened his boy most terribly, by con- vincing him of the near prospect of death, SewaU's only idea of comforting and restoring the child was to read a selection of very grand and very solemn texts. This conduct, however, was quite in keeping with the literature provided for children. The Reverend Michael Wigglesworth, a distinguished divine in early 42 STUDIES IN HISTORY. New England, was also a poet, if we may so term the author of a vast quantity of harsh, unmusical, and dreary verse. His most valued and popular produc- tion was entitled " The Day of Doom," which was re- peatedly published in convenient form for the especial use and behoof of the children of the community. One stanza, describing the fate of sinners, will suffi- ciently characterize the mental food prepared for the young people of New England at the beginning of the eighteenth century : — "Die fain they would, if die they could, But death will not be had ; God's direful wrath their bodies hath Forever immortal made. They live to lie in misery And bear eternal woe ; And live they must wliilst God is just, That he may plague them so." Nothing is more striking, in a statistical point of view, than the enormous infant mortality of early New England. Nature enforced in the most rigid way the system of selection, and the extremely tough fibre of the New England people is undoubtedly due to this mirelenting application of the principle of the survival of the fittest. When one finds such literature as the " Day of Doom " particularly reserved for the children, it is impossible to avoid the thought that the mental gloom of Puritan childhood must have efficiently aided the climate and the inevitable exposure in destroying all the feeble offspring of this stern and hardy race. A PURITAN PEP VS. 43 The natural vigor of body and mind must have indeed been great in order to withstand such a combination of adverse influences in the tender years of childhood. In fact Sewall himself, despite great affection, seems to have regarded his offspring chiefly as conspicuous and instructive examples of original sin, as we may see by this entry : — " Nov. 6. Joseph threw a knop of Brass and hit his Sister Betty on the forhead so as to make it bleed and swell ; upon which, and for his playing at Prayer- time, and eating when Return Thanks, I whipd him pretty smartly. "When I first went in (call'd by his Grandmother) he sought to shadow and hide himself from me behind the head of the Cradle ; which gave me the sorrowfull remembrance of Adam's carriage." As in the petty incidents of domestic affairs, so it was in the graver events of both public and private life. In all alike there is the same ever-present thought of communion with God and of learning to serve Him, and draw spiritual instruction from every- thing that befell either the individual or the state. In cases of sickness or death a private fast was held, and the relatives and intimate friends gathered in the af- flicted house to pray. If doubts and darkness envel- oped the course of public affairs the whole community met together to fast and pray, and listen to the exhor- tations of the ministers, and when the hand of power began to weigh upon New England, Sewall prayed not merely that oppression might be lightened but that this trial might be sanctified to them, and that 44 STUDIES IN HISTORY. they might gather from it the toachmg of the Al- mighty. It was also the custom among the more devout if not among all classes, to set apart certain days for private fasting and prayer, without refcreniie to any particular event. This was Sewall's habit, and there are eoiistant allusions to setting aside a day and shutting himself up in his house for prayer and relig- ious meditation. h\ the following curious passage we get a glimpse of the variety and extent of Puritan Ijrayi r, and also of the touch of sui)erstition in their character which is likewise so marked in the attention paid to dreams throughout the diary. " Feb. 21, 1702. Capt. Tim". Clark tells me that a line drawn to the Comet strikes just upon Mexico, spake of a Revolution there, how great a thing it would be. Said one Whitehead told him of the mag- nificence of the City, that there were in it 1500 Coaches drawn with Mules. This Blaze had put me nuich in mind of Mexico; because we must look toward Mexico to view it. Capt. Clark drew a line on his Globe. Our thoughts being thus confer'd, and found to jump, makes it to me remarkable. I have long pray'd for Mexico, and of late in those words, that God would open the Mexican Fountain." At a later period Sewall, instead of contenting him- self with his usual bare mention, gives a full account of one of these days of prayer which is well worth quotntion. " The Apointmcnt of a Judge for the Super. Court being to be made upon next Fifth day, Febr. 12, A PURITAN PEPYS. 45 I pray'd God to accept me in keeping a privat day of Prayer with Fasting for that and other important matters : I kept it upon the Third day Febr. 10. 170 1 in the uper Chamber at the North East end of the House, fastening the Shutters next the Street. — Per- fect what is lacking in my Faith, and in the faith of my dear Yokefellow. Convert my Children; Espe- cially Samuel and Haiiah ; Provide rest and settlement for Hanah ; Recover Mary, Save Judith, Elisabeth and Joseph : Eequite the labour of love of my kinswoman Jane Tappin, Give her health, find out Rest for her. Make David a man after thy own heart. Let Susan live and be baptised with the Holy Ghost and with fire. Relations. Steer the Government in this difficult time, when the Governour and many others are at so much Variance : Direct, incline, overrule on the Coun- cil-day fifth-day Feb. 12. as to the Special Work of it in fiUing the Super. Court with Justices ; or any other thing of like nature; as Pli'm" infer. Court.^ Bless the Company for the propagation of the Gospel, Especiall Gov* Ashurst &c. Revive the Business of Religion at Natick, and accept and bless John Neesnu- min ^ who went thither last week for that end. Mr. Rawson at Nantucket. Bless the South Church in preserving and Spiriting our Pastor ; in directing unto suitable Supply, and making the Church unani- mous : Save the Town, College ; Province from In- vasion of Enemies, open. Secret and from false ' Inferior Court of Pljmouth. ^ Converted Indian a;id preacher. 46 STUDIES IN HISTORY. Brethren : Defend the Purity of Worship. Save Con- necticut, bless their new Governour: Save the Ref- ormation under N. York Government. Eef orm all the European Plantations in America ; Spanish, Portu- guese, English, French, Dutch ; Save this New World, that where Sin hath abounded, Grace may Super- abound ; that Christ who is stronger, would bind the Strong man and spoil his house ; and order the Word to be given, Babylon is fallen. — Save our Queen, lengthen out her Life and Reign. Save France, make the Proud helper stoop [Job ix. 13] . Save all Eu- rope ; Save Asia, Africa, Europe and America. These were gen'l heads of my Meditation and prayer ; and through the bounteous Grace of GoD, I had a very comfortable day of it." Notliing gives a more vivid idea of the intensity of the Puritan faith than this prayer. Such a practice was a form of devotional exercise which indeed fol- lowed strictly the injunction of praying and fasting in secret. No one outside the family knew of this act of devotion so often repeated, and only a chance entry in a diary, never intended for publication, has revealed it to us. There was of course abundance of public pray- ing in the family circle and in the church, and it was the universal custom to " put up notes," sometimes in one church, sometimes in all, asking the prayers of the congregations for any person or family oppressed with sorrow or repentance or threatened with heavy affliction. The ordinary amount of religious exercises was something enormous according to modern notions, A PURITAN PEPYS. 47 but yet it did not suffice, and hence these days of soli- tary meditation and worship. The wide range of sub- jects is the most striking feature of the practice, and it is this quality which is so highly characteristic and instructive. The spiritual welfare of the individual occupied but a comparatively small part of the day set apart for a private fast. Every topic of interest per- sonal and public, the thousand and one purely tem- poral matters which to-day are discussed in the news- papers or around the dinner-table, the affairs of the, state and of foreign nations, all alike meet with due attention in the j^rayer of the Puritan. Nothing was too trifling to be brought to the throne of heavenly^' grace. It shows in the most vivid way the all-absorb- ing and pervading character of the religion of the Puritans, and their immovable belief that they were a chosen people whose first duty was to be in con- stant communion with an ever-present God. There is a grand reality about such a faith when we can tear aside the veil and see it in the closet in all its sincerity, unaffected by the surroundings inseparable from the synagogue or the corners of the street. Secrecy, however, was in itself very far from being a typical quality of the Puritans. One of the most marked features of their character and belief is their love of publicity in matters of religion and morality. Charles I., in the hands of the saints at Hamptoii Court, dreaded the knife or poison of the assassin, and nothing shows more clearly his helpless ignorance of the men with whom he had to deal. When they had 48 STUDIES IN HISTORY. once determined that their king was a criminal, they esteemed it their duty that he should expiate his crime in open day, before God and the people. In the same spirit the condemned malefactors in Boston were brought into church and made the subject of discourse from the pulpit. " Thursday, March 11, 1685," Sewall says, " Persons crowd much into the old Meeting-House by reason of James Morgan," a condemned murderer who was " turned o£E " about half an hour past five the same day. " Mr. Cotton Mather accompanied James Morgan to tlie place of execution and prayed with him there," after having used him as a text in the morning. This practice is especially noted, and was conducted with much circum- stance and pomj) in the cases of various pirates be- longing to the bands which at that period infested the coast of North America, and who were captured in New England from time to time. In 1704 some of these notorious and dreaded ruffians landed on Cape Ann and were there made prisoners by Salem troops commanded by Sewall's brother. More than twenty were seized on the 9th and 10th of June and were put in prison. The Puritans were no friends to de- lays of justice, and the pirates were accordingly tried in batches on June 13th, 24th, and 25th. Nearly all were condemned to death, and seven, including the captain, Quelch, were picked out for immediate execu- tion. June 27th, Sewall writes : " In the morning I heard Mr. Cotton Mather pray, preach, catechise ex- cellently the condemned prisoners in the chamber of A PURITAN PEPYS. 49 the prison." June 30th six were hung, the seventh having been reprieved. The place of the execution was near the river on the flats in full view of the neighboring hills, the most generally visible spot that could have been chosen. Sewall says, " After diner about 3 P. M. I went to see the execution. Many were the people that sa,w upon Broughton's Hill. But when I came to see how the Kiver was cover'd with People, I was amazed : Some say there were 100 Boats ; 150 Boats and canoes, saith Cousin Moody of York. He told them. Mr. Cotton Mather came with Captain Quelch and six others for execution from the Prison to Scarlet's wharf and from thence in the Boat to the place of Execution about the midway between Hanson's Point and Broughton's warehouse. When the scaffold was hoisted to a due height the seven Malefactors went up ; Mr. Mather pray'd for them standing upon the Boat. Ropes were all fastened to the gallows (save King who was reprieved). When the scaffold was let to sink, there was such a screech of the Women that my wife heard it, sitting in our Entry next the Orchard and was much sui'prised at it ; yet the wind was sou-west. Oiu? house is a fuU mile from the place." The " Boston News Letter " of that day says that " notwithstanding all the great labour and pains taken by the Reverend ministers of the Town of Boston the pirates dyed very obdurately and impenitently, hardened in their sin." It is to be hoped, however, that the efforts of the ministers and the publicity of the execution had the edifying effect 50 STUDIES IN HISTORY. upon the people, which was the chief object of the Puritans in all such matters. It was in this \^'a,y, at all events, both by the preaching and the punishment, that criminals were used to point the moral in person, and were brought before the eyes of the people in visible token of the punishment of evil lives. In a similar manner the Puritan, as I have said, was ac- customed to demand the prayers of the congregation, not only in times of affliction but when convinced of sin. i The best known act in Judge Sewall's life is his confession of repentance for the part he had taken in the witchcraft persecution. The hand-bill which he posted in the Old South Church, admitting his sin, and desiring the prayers of the congregation, is given in the diary. It was not enough that the change of heart which domestic sorrow had wrought in him should be known to himself and his God. The world must know it too. Whether the Puritans brought a king to execution, led out a murderer to the gallows, or admitted their own past errors, there was no con- cealment about it. They were not merely ready to justify their conclusions, but they were determined that they should be known and seen of men. In this way alone would truth prevail, and the kingdom of righteousness be established on earth. Whatever the faults of Puritan politics and religion, the dagger of the assassin, the secrets of the confessional, or the casuistry of the Jesuits, found no place among them. This strong tendency to draw moral lessons from every occurrence, and to attribute every unusual mani- A runiTAN PEPYS. 51 festation to Divine influence or to the working of the Holy Spirit, was far from blinding them, however, to the existence of more worldly motives. The religious explanation was in their eyes the natural one, but the strong sense and native shrewdness of the English Puritan was rarely so blunted that it failed to under- stand mundane influences. The following incident, which occurred while Sewall was still a very young man, illustrates this power of discrimination in an amusing way : — " Saturday Even., Aug. 12, 1676, just as prayer ended Tim. Dwight sank down in a swoun, and for a good space was as if he perceived not what was done to him. After kicked and sprawled, knocking his hands and feet upon the floor like a distracted man, was carried pick-pack to bed by John Alcock, there his cloaths pulled off. In the night it seems he talked of ships, his master, father, and unckle Eliot. The Sabbath following Father went to him, spake to him to know what ailed him, asked if he would be prayed for, and for what he would desire his friends to pray. He answered, for more sight of sin, and God's healing grace. I asked him, being alone with him, whether his troubles were from some outward cause or spirit- ual. He answered, spiritual. I asked him why then he could not tell it his master, as well as any other, since it is the honour of any man to see sin and be sorry for it. He gave no answer, as I remember. Asked him if he would goe to meeting. He said, 't was in vain for hhn ; his day was out. I asked, 52 STUDIES IN HISTORY. what clay : he answered, of Grace. I told him 't was sin for any one to conclude themselves Reprobate, that this was all one. He said he would speak more, but coidd not, &c. Notwithstanding all this semblance (and much more than is written) of compunction for sin, 'tis to be feared that his trouble arose from a maid whom he passionately loved : for that when Mr. D wight and his master had agreed to let him goe to her, he eftsoons grew well." " Friday, Aug. 25. I spake to Tim. of this, asked him whether his convictions were off. He answered, no. I told him how dangerous it "was to make the con- victions wrought by God's spirit a stalking horse to any other thing. Broke off, he being called away by Sam." The discovery of the unlucky Tim is far less striking than the immediate assumption by all concerned that his difficulties must be of a religious nature, and the half belief of even the culprit himself that his mental agitation was due to religious fervor and not to the ardor of earthly love. If the utter absorption in religion which these vari- ous examples indicate were the whole of the Puritan faith it woidd offer no object for study, no cause for interest. If this were all, the Puritan would not have crushed mitre and crown together and placed England in the foremost rank of European nations, or laid the foundation of another English empire on the rocky shores of Massachusetts. They would have been only one more example of the fanaticism which sent the A PURITAN PEPYS. 53 early ascetics to the desert and the later ones to the cloister. But the all-absorbing and ever-present relig- ion of the Puritans did not require the renunciation of the world. It made the affairs of this life second- ary, but it did not efface them. In the old forms of belief, in the mediasval church, man passed from the material to the spiritual, until he wholly lost sight of the former. With the Puritan the case was exactly reversed. The spiritual struggle and the succeeding calm came first and left the man at liberty to deal with the material world about him. The Puritan found his consecration to God in doing what he be- lieved was God's service among the men and things of this life. He was not to leave the world and its temp- tations, but to go out into it to do what seemed right in his own eyes and establish the kingdom of God upon earth. In this way the religion of the Puritans became a great and active force socially and politically, instead of a stifling atmosphere of idle superstition. Thus it was that the Puritans founded states and ruled commonwealths. Thus it was that they produced great statesmen and soldiers and politicians, instead of fol- lowers of La Trappe. The common usage in speaking of the religion of the New England Puritan is to refer to it as " gloomy and repulsive fanaticism," or " narrow and harsh bigotry." Like most popular statements this is super- ficial and insufficient, but contains, nevertheless, some elements of truth. The religious belief of New Eng- land was awful in its sternness. There is in all hid- 54 STUDIES IN HISTORY. tory no greater exhibition of the dogged persistence and stubborn courage of the English race than the set- tlement of Massachusetts. It is true that the colonists believed they were doing God's \\'ork, but their doc- trines were so terrible that it is a matter of profound astonishment how they had the courage to face their own religious convictions and the terror of the wilder- ness at the same time. The real explanation, of course, is that to men with such beliefs, mere earthly dangers and trials sank into utter insignificance. Yet it is not easy to conceive how the human heart and mind could have been steeled to bear such a strain. The stories of the early days and of the first landings have become household words, and the struggles with fam- ine and cold and savages in the days of Endicott and Winthrop are familiar to us. Yet it may be doubted whether those first fierce conflicts required more strength than the continuous hardship and grind- ing discomfort which went on year after year when the colony was first settled. It is true that in those days men were accustomed to far less bodily comfort even in Europe, than at the present time, yet we can- not but wonder at the sturdy endurance which bore, without a murmur, the physical hardships of a New England winter, as we find them detailed by SewaU. Food was often scarce in severe winters, and there was but little variety ; communication with the outer world almost ceased ; travel was well-nigh impossible, and the means of keeping warm were totally insufficient. One winter Sunday, toward the close of the seven- A PURITAN PEPYS. 55 teenth century, Sewall notes in his diary that the sac- ramental bread was frozen, and rattled as it fell upon the plate. More than twenty years later even, in 1716, when the appliances of comfort had greatly increased he writes : " Lord's Day, Jan^ 15. An extraordinary cold Storm of wind and Snow. Blows much as coming home at Noon and so holds on. Bread was frozen at the Lord's table ; Mr. Pemberton administered. Came not out to afternoon exercise. Though t'was so cold, yet John Tuckerman was baptised. At six a-clock my ink freezes so that I can hardly write by a good fire in my Wive's chamber. Yet was very comfortable at meeting. Laus Deo." What a picture of utter dis- comfort such an incident as this conveys. This contin- ual suffering from the winter climate, moreover, fell upon all with nearly equal severity. One house was about as warm as another, and wood, the only fuel, was both cheap and plenty. One convincing proof and practical result of this hard existence is the great infant mortality, already allu.ded to, of which this di- ary offers abundant evidence and to which the fero- cious practice of baptizing new born babes at church, in all weathers, no doubt contributed. The state, too, called upon all alike to take their share of exposure and suffering in her service. Sew- all was soldier as well as lawyer and judge, and although a man of wealth and position, a deputy and' a magistrate ; he was obliged to take his turn at watch- duty in Boston, and go the rounds of the little town through many a long cold night. Even after he was 56 STUDIES IN HISTORY. sixty years old, when he had long been a member of the Council and of the Supreme Court, of which he be- came Chief Justice, he still continued to make occa- sional rounds of the town at night at the head of the constables. He frequently makes note in his diary of these expeditions, and thus describes one which indi- cates tliat the Puritan town was rapidly glowing and getting some of the evils as well as the advantages of an increased population : — " Monday, Aug'. 1715. Set out at 11. at night on Horseback with Tho. Wallis to inspect the order of the town [accompanied by six constables]. Dissi- pated the players at Nine Pins at Mount Whoredom.^ Benjamin Davis, chairmaker, and Jacob Hasy were two of them. Keproved Thomas Messenger for En- tertaining them. As came home between 2 and three took up Peter Griffis, the notorious Burglarer, and comitted him to Prison. Generally the Town was peaceable and in good order." A magistrate and judge of high position like Sew- all was also expected to exercise a general supervision over the morals of the people, and his extensive and vague powers in this respect seem to have been im- plicitly submitted to. Here is an example : — On Saturday, July 30, 1715, Sewall attended a funeral in Cambridge, and says : " T'was six a-clock when came out of the Burying place ; so I came straight home upon my Gray horse ; saw a Rainbow in Charlestown Market Place. Caus'd the Shops to 1 South and west slopes of Beacon Hill. A PURITAN PEPYS. 57 be Sliut up, as I rode along." This is an instance of the strict maintenance of the Puritim Sabbath, which was held to begin at six o'clock on Saturday, An- other similar case, involving the enforcement of the rigid law against Sunday traveling, occurs soon after. The account of this incident, which befell SewaU when on the circuit, is interesting, not only as a pic- ture of manners and customs, but because it is so strongly tinged with the worldly shrewdness which, in the midst of icligious considerations, imparts so much humor and interest to the diary, and reveals the writ- er's character in such a genuine and amusing way : — " May, 13. (Sunday) In the evening I had an ink- ling that two merchants Came from Ipswich. I said how Shall I do to avoid Fining them. I examined Richard Gerrish.^ As I understood him, they lodg'd at jNIajor Epes's on Satterday night and went to the publick worship there; and when the afternoon Exer- cise was over, came to Newbuiy. They Travailed not in Service Time : and had a ship at Portsmouth ready to Sail which wanted their Dispatch. Alleged that Mr. Peter La Blond was gone sick to Bed. I took his word to speak with me in the morning. I consulted with Col. Thomas, who inclined to admonish them as young and strangers and let them go. "Newbury, May 14, 1716. By long and by late I spake with Mr. Richard Gcrrish, Jun'', and Mr. Peter La Blond, by whom I understand they were at ]\Ir. "VVigglesworth in the morning, and at Ipswich meeting 1 One of the delmquouts. 68 STUDIES IN HISTORY. in the Afternoon. Being in a strait, I had pray'3 to God to direct. I eonsider'd Col. Thomas was not a Justice there; that this profanation of the Sabbath was very great ; and the Transgressors fleeing from Town to Town and County to County could rarely be ccnsured.i On the other hand they were young, Mr. La Blond's mother my neighbor, Mr. Gerrish had a smell of relation : both of them of another Province ; ^ and I fear'd lest my Cousin's custom might be lessn'd by it, because I had the information from her hus- band whose wife, my Cousin was a Gerrish, and Cous- in to this Rich''. Gerrish, only Child of Capt. Rich''. Gerrish of the Bank. Mr. La Blond apear'd Brisk as if he ail'd nothing. I came to this Resolution, that if they would make such a submission as this I would let them pass, viz : — " We do acknowledge our Transgressions of the Law in Travailing upon the Lord's Day, May 13, 1716. And do promise not to ofEend in the like kind hereafter, as witness our Hands Richaed Gerrish, Peter La Blond. " This offer they rejected with some Disdain and Mr. La Blond paid me a 30^ and 10' Bill of Credit for both their Fines. " Super' Court at Ipswich, May 19. Here Mr. Hern informs me that Gerrish and La Blond went from Piatt's on the Lord's Day morn ; He spake to 1 Sewall, as a judge of the Superior Court, had general juris- diction. A justice like Thomas was limited to his own county. 2 New Hampshire. A PURITAN PEPYS. 59 them against it; They said they could hut pay 5^. Ferryman told me, Two were carried over about the time of going to meeting. Crompton informs me that they were at his house, and went not to Meeting at Ipswich ; \Vent away late in the afternoon : So that they Travailed 22 Miles or more that day. I hope God heard my Prayer and directed me to do right and accepted me." There are here unmistakable signs of incipient revolt against the narrow Puritan legislation by the younger men, as well as curious pictures of by- gone manners and habits of thought. The bright, and at times almost tropical, summers of New England must have been the salvation of the colonists, for nothing else came to break the gloom. There were absolutely no amusements of any kind, and although establishing great political and religious principles and founding states are the noblest tasks to which men can set their hands, yet poor humanity requires withal some relaxation. Nature's winter was severe, but it lasted only for a season, while the social winter was never broken until the whole system be- gan to give way in the eighteenth century. One or two unlucky individuals made efforts to furnish en- tertainment, but they were rigidly suppressed. We learn that — " Mr. Francis Stepney, the Dancing Master, desired a Jury, so He and Mr. Shrimpton Bound in £50 to Jan'*^ Court. Said Stepney is ordered not to keep a Dancing School ; if he does will be taken in con- tempt, and be proceeded with accordingly." 60 STUDIES IN HISTORY. Another or worse attempt of a similar nature was cheeked without the intervention of the law : — " In the Even Capt. Eliot, Frary, Williams and Self, Treat with Brother Wing about his Setting a Koom in his House for a man to shew Tricks in. He saith, seeing 't is offensive, he will remedy it. It seems the Eoom is fitted with Seats. I read what Dr. Ames saith of Callings, and Spake as I could, from this Principle, That the Man's Practice was unlaw- ful!, and therefore Capt. Wing could not lawfully give him an accomodation for it. Sung the 90th Ps. from the 12th V. to the end. Broke up." Amusements and sports of all sorts were regarded with unfeigned dislike and were abolished at the out- set, while at the same time there were but few social events to break the monotony. Anything in the nature of a party of pleasure was almost unknown. There were occasionally dinners, and now and then friends met in the afternoon for social enjoyment. Tlie time was then passed in conversation, and the table seems to have been a generous one. But even these mild festivities were most unusual, and appear to have generally begun and ended with prayer. Once and again some wealthy man would make a feast on the marriage of his daughter, but as a rule weddings were solemnized with the utmost privacy and the least possible ceremony. One of the noticeable changes ■which followed the establishment of the provincial government was the comparatively rapid development of the pleasanter side of life. This was especially the A PURITAN PEPYS. 61 case as the eighteenth century advanced, bringing with it increased stability and prosperity, as well as a readiness and ability to spend money. The royal governors, especially Lord Bellomont and Colonel Shute were imbued with English ideas, loved cere- mony and fine dressing, and brought the habits of the court, for the first time, into the sober Puritan town. In their train came various royal officers and red- coated soldiers, who introduced color into Boston life in other ways than by their dress, and who indulged in sports, led as gay a life as they could, occasionally fought duels, and not infrequently caused serious dis- turbances when they carried their violations of Puri- tan rules too far. Nothing indicates better the change induced by the appearance of these royal officers than Sewall's curt statement that on January 7, 1718, " The Gov' had a ball at his own home, which lasts to 3 in the morn." But although the Puritans were much scandalized by the performances of the soldiers and by many of the innovations of the Englishmen, they insensibly relaxed their own strictness of life. They continued to frown on sports, but they had al- ways been fond of good eating and drinking, and the number of dinner parties and what would now be called picnics greatly increased. It is evident that they lived well, and the amount of food provided for consumption at a dinner of ceremony is often extraor- dinary, and forcibly recalls the dinner iJarty in Swift's " Polite Conversation," which Thackeray so amusingly analyzed. 62 STUDIES IN HISTORY. The great and really the sole regular diversion, how- ever, was found in going to funerals, for these were the only important incidents which, for many years, broke 'the dead monotonous level of existence, and a large ; number of entries in the diary relate to the obsequies of various persons. Owing to his character and posi- tion Sewall was constantly called upon to act as a pall- " bearer, so that to him, perhaps, more than to most others, these events were a peculiar excitement. The religious feeling was first gratified by the prayers and exhortations at the bed of death, and by those after- wards addressed to the bereaved family. When the body was brought from the house religion ceased its functions. The old hatred of ceremonial manifested itself in the custom of the founders, which still lasted, of the friends bearing out the body and silently laying it in the tomb. Curiously enough, although these last rites had been stripped of all s])! ritual ceremonies, a great deal of temporal pomp had grown up around them. The " bearers ' of the early days became pall- bearers, chosen from the magistrates and leading men of the state, to whom scarfs, rings, and gloves were distributed. If the deceased had been a soldier or magistrate the military companies marched to the grave, and in almost all cases there was a formal and regular procession through the streets. Verses ap- propriate to the occasion were generally written by friends, and were sometimes pinned upon the hearse according to the fashion of the day in London. Sew- all has a long list of the funerals in which he took A PURITAN PEPYS. 63 part, and has jotted down the scarfs and rings which he received, and to which he was evidently not averse. His liking for funerals and their accompaniments is oddly shown in the following passage : — fMPKSaay John Ive, fishing in great Spie-pond, is arrested with mortal sickness which renders liim in a maner speechless and senseless ; dies next day ; buried at Charlestown on the Wednesday. Was a very debauched, atheistical man. I was not at his Funeral. Had Gloves sent me, but the knowledge of his notoriously wicked life made me sick of going ; and Mr. Mather, the president, came in just as I was ready to step out, and so I staid at home, and by that means lost a Ring : but hope had no loss. FoUow thou Me, was I supose more complied with, than if had'left Mr. Mather's company to go to such a Funeral.' ' Nothing, however, is stranger than the manner in which death was regarded by the Puritans. Although they cultivated the greatest stoicism they nevertheless sorrowed like other men, and felt acutely the loss of those whom they loved, but their religion did not apparently console them as much by its promises as by its teaching. Death was the great event which brought them nearer to God than any other, and they forced themselves to rejoice at it as a high privilege and peculiar grace from which they could gather the lessons of their Lord and Master. On the day when Sewall buried his sixth child he visited the famUy tomb, upon which he says : — " Note. T'was wholly dry, and I went at noon to see 64 STUDIES IN HISTORY. in what order things were set; and there I was enter- tain'd with a view of, and converse with, the Coffins of my dear Father Hull, Mother Hull, Cousin Quin- sey, and my Six Children ; for the little posthumous was now took up and set in upon that that stands on John's : so are three, one upon another twice, on the bench at the end. My Mother ly's on a lower bench, at the end, with head to her Husband's head : and I order'd little Sarah to be set on her Grandmother's feet. 'T was an awfuU yet pleasing Treat ; Having said. The Lord knows who shall be brought hither next, I came away." That he was not peculiar in his views, is shown by the following extract, which goes even farther in the same direction : " Mr. Joseph Eliot here, says the two days wherein he buried his Wife and Son, were the best that ever he had in the world." But the Puritan system which excluded aU amuse- ments from daily life was in the last years of its com- plete existence when Sewall was writing the earlier portion of his diary. In this careful record we can easily foUow the political as weU as the social changes which rapidly succeeded the loss of the charter. We can watch the sullen resistance to Andros, which gradually gathered strength until it led James' gov- ernor to a prison. We can perceive that despite this opposition the political changes were not without ef- fect. Slowly but surely they undermined the prin- ciples on which the government had been founded, and when the revolution came it only showed that the A PURITAN PEPYS. 65 days of the old system were over, that the Puritan theory of government had failed, and could not exist under the new conditions of established success and material well-being. But we can also see in the diary much more gradual but none the less certain altera- tions in the religious as weU as the political system. Society and the church, as conceived and established by the earlier generation, struggled hard for exist- ence, but they had ceased to be in sympathy with the age and its forces and they too gave way. One by one the old habits were invaded, and the old prac- tices were broken down. The least important and the weakest went first, the most essential endured for many long years, only to fall at last, until finally the great Puritan and English principles of religious and political freedom, which can only perish with the race to which they belong, alone are left. In SewaU's diary every incident is noted. The worthy judge clung to every observance and every opinion of the past, and with deep regret noted the signs of their falling strength. We can count them all and see the whole fabric of society pass before us in the entries where the hated innovations are recorded. Soberness of dress had become, in process of time, a strong tenet with the Puritans, and it was in these outward symbols that Sewall first detected the signs of a perilous change. The periwig was the first new fashion which excited the dread and anger of the con- servative portion of the community, and Sewall hated it with a peculiar and enduring hatred. Even when 66 STUDIES IN HISTORY. his own hair fell off in late life, he could not be per- suaded to adopt the prevailing fashion, but contented himself with a black silk cap, and not even the objec- tion of one of his elderly lady loves whom he was assiduously courting could make him swerve from this unfashionable habit. He notes the first appearance of periwigs in Boston with fear and sorrow, and as the habit of wearing them became more common, he felt obliged to speak publicly and constantly against them, for his opposition was grounded on religious scruple, which would not permit him to be silent. In 1685 he writes : — " Having occasion this day to go to Mr. Hayward the Publick Notary's House, I speak to him about his cutting off his Hair, and wearing a Perriwig of con- trary Colour : mention the words of our Saviour, Can ye not make one Hair white or black : and Mr. Alsop's Sermon. He alledges, The Doctor advised him to it." A year later he records the death of a man who made wigs, and we cannot help feeling that Sewall deemed the fate of this wretched creature a fit punish- ment for one who followed so nefarious a trade. " This day Wm. Clendon the Barber and Perriwig- maker dies miserably, being almost eat up with Lice and stujjified with Drink and cold. Sat in the watch- house and was there gaz'd on a good part of the day, having been taken up the night before." All, however, were not so zealous or so firm as Sewall in this matter, for in 1691 we find the follow- ing melancholy entry : — A PURITAN PEPYS. 67 " March 19, 1690-1. Mr. C. Mather preaches the Lecture from Mat. 24, and appoint his portion with the Hypocrites : In his proem said, Totus mundus agit histrionem. Said one sign of a hypocrit was for a man to strain at a Gnat and swallow a Camel. Sign in 's Throat discovered him ; To be zealous against an inocent fashion, taken up and used by the best of men ; and yet make no Conscience of being guilty of great Immoralities. T'is supposed means wearing of Perriwigs : said would deny themselves in any thing but parting with an oportunity to do God service ; that so might not offend good Christians. Meaning, I suppose was fain to wear a Perriwig for his health. I expected not to hear a vindication of Perriwigs in Boston Pulpit by Mr. Mather ; however not from that Text. The Lord give me a good Heart and help me to know, and not only to know but also to doe his Will ; that my Heart and Head may be his." Others, however, remained faithful and steadfast, for in 1697 Sewall mentions that he strove to induce Mr. Higginson to print a treatise against the obnox- ious and sinful periwigs. Still the hated and really senseless fashion made steady progress and continued to afford a topic for much gloomy comment in the diary. Tuesday, June 10, 1701, he writes: " Having last night heard that Josiah Willard ^ had cut off his hair (a very full head of hair) and put on a Wigg, I went to him this morning. Told his mother what 1 Son of Rev. Joseph Willard. He had just been selected as the assistant of Sewall's pastor, Mr. Pemberton. 68 STUDIES IN HISTORY. I came about, and She call'd him. I enquired of him what Extremity had forced him to put off his own hair and put on a Wigg ? He answered none at all. But said that his Hair was streight and that it parted be- hinde. Seem'd to argue that men might as well shave their hair off their head, as off their face. I answered men were men before they had hair on their faces, (half of mankind have never any.) God seems to have ordain'd our Hair as a Test, to see whether we can bring our minds to be content to be at his find- ing : or whether we would be our own Carvers, Lords, and Come no more at Him. If disliked our Skin, or Nails ; 't is no Thanks to us, that for all that, we cut them not off: Pain and danger restrain us. Your Calling is to teach men Self-Denial. T'will be dis- pleasing and burdensome to good men : and they that care not what men think of them care not what God thinks of them. Father, Bro' Simon, Mr. Pemberton, Ml'. Wigglesworth, Oakes, Noyes, Oliver, Brattle of Cambridge their example. Allow me to be so far a Censor llonim for this end of the town. Pray'd him to read the Tenth Chapter of the Third book of Calvin's Institutions.^ I read it this morning in course not of Choice. Told him that it (the wig) was condemu'd by a meeting of Ministers at Northampton in Mr. Stoddards house when the Said Josiah was there. Told him of the Solemnity of the covenant which he and I had lately Enter'd into which put me 1 Entitled " Comment il faut user de la vie presente et ses aides." A PURITAN PEPYS. 69 upon discoursing to Mm. He seem'd to say would leave off his Wigg when his Hair was grown. I spake to his Father of it a day or two after : He thank'd me that had discoursed to his son, and told me that when his hair was grown to cover his ears, he promised to leave off his Wigg. If he had known of it would have forbidden him." Josiah, notwithstand- ing his promises, would appear to have been recalci- trant and a slave of fashion, so that Sewall seems to have felt it necessary to express stUl further his dis- approval. In November of the same year he attended meeting at another church, apparently a very marked action, which he explained by saying : " I spent this Sabbath at Mr. Colman's partly out of dislike to Mr. Josiah Willard's cutting off his Hair and wearing a Wigg : He preached for Mr. Pemberton in the morn- ing ; He that contemns the Law of Nature is not fit to be a publisher of the Law of Grace." In 1708, speaking of Mr. Chiever, the well-known Boston school-master, who had just died, Sewall says that he was " a rare instance of Piety, Health, Strength, Serviceableness. The Wellfare of the Prov- ince was much upon his Spirit. He abominated Per- riwigs." Unfortunately, death gradually removed these admirable characters, and, as no one of like views succeeded them, Sewall was defeated and the obnoxious " Wigg " came into general use. Another threatened change, and one far more vital in a religious point of view, was the matter of observ- ing Christmas Day. Year after year Sewall watched 70 STUDIES IN HISTORY. sedulously, and noted carefully, every sign which seemed to indicate that this papistical custom was not coming into vogue in Boston. He rejoiced on each succeeding Christmas that the people did not observe it, and were not comjielled to do so by authority. The change in this matter was very slow, and is, in fact, still going on in New England, but yet there was enough two hundred years ago to cause Sewall the greatest anxiety. The new government distinctly and strongly favored the observance of Christmas, and there were, of course, many persons who found it prof- itable and congenial to comi:)ly ; but the people in gen- eral seem to have been of Sewall's mind, and brought their wood to town and transacted their business on the 25th of December as on any other day. So ear- nest was SewaU on this point that he incurred the ill- will of the governor by his well-known opinions, of which he refused to abate one jot. In 1697 he makes the following characteristic entry : — " Decemb'. 25. 97. Snowy day : Shops are open, and Carts and sleds come to Town with Wood and Fagots as formerly, save what abatement may be al- lowed on account of the wether. This morning we read in course the 14, 15, and 16th Psalms. From the 4th V. of the 16th Ps (' their sorrows shall be mul- tiplied that hasten after another god; their drink offerings of blood will I not offer nor take up their names into my lips.') I took occasion to dehort mine from Christmas-keeping, and charged them to forbear. Hanah reads Daniel, 6. and Betty, Luke, 12. Joseph A PURITAN PEPYS. 71 tells me that though most of the Boys went to the Church yet he went not." With each recurring anniversary he made a similar entry and derived much pleasure from the fact that outside official circles and among the body of the jDeo- ple the observance of Christmas showed no progress. In 1714, after making the usual entry on December 25th, he writes : — " Lord's Day, DecemV. 26th. Mr. Bromfield and I go and keep the Sabbath with Mr. John Webb, and sit down with that Church at the Lord's Table. I did it to hold communion with that Church ; and so far as in me lay, to put Respect upon that affronted, despised Lord's Day. For the Church of England had the Lord's Super yesterday, the last day of the Week : but will not have it to-day, the day that the Lord has made. And Gen' Nicholson who kept Sat- terday, was this Lord's day Rumaging and chittering with Wheelbarrows &c., to get aboard at the long wharf, and Firing Guns at Setting Sail. I thank God I heard not, saw not anything of it : but was quiet at the New North." In 1722 Sewall tried hard to thwart the governor in adjourning the legislature over Christmas. A sharp discussion arose thereon in the Council, in the course of which Sewall said, " the Dissenters came a great way for their liberties and now the Church had theirs yet they could not be contented except might they tread all others down." The governor would not take a vote in the Council, but the next day adjourned the legis- 72 STUDIES IN HISTORY. lature over Christmas to the disgust of Sewall, who still found comfort, however, in the fact that the peo- ple continued steadfast and paid no heed to the great feast of the Church. Sewall had indeed no love for any of the holidays, because they were connected with the names of saints or with feasts of the Eomish Church. In 1708, he says, " Feria Quarta Augt. 18. Yesterday the Gov'r comitted Mr. Holyoke's Almanack to me (presum- ably as licenser of' the press) ; and looking it over, I blotted against Feb"^. 14th. Valentine ; March 25. Annunciation of the B. Virgin ; Apr. 24. Easter; Sept'. 29, 3/icJiaeImas ; Dec'. 25. Christ7nas ; and no more. K. C. Mart. [King Charles Martyr] was lined out, before I saw it ; I touched it not." More secidar observances of certain days he also found objectionable. " April, 1. 1719. In the morn- ing I dehorted Sam. Hirst and Grindal Rawson from playing Idle Tricks because 't was first of April ; they were the greatest fools that did so. N. E. Men came hither to avoid aniversary days, the keeping of them such as the 25th of Dec''. How displeasing must it be to God the giver of our Time to keep aniversary days to play the fool with ourselves and others." Next to Christmas, SewaU's pet aversion was St. George's day, because the Church of England men and the soldiers then put on paper crosses, a practice which not only offended Sewall, but the people gener- ally, who were not slow to retaliate, by degrading and insulting the .symbol so needlessly worn. There are A PURITAN PEPYS. 73 sevei'al allusions to this subject in the diary, and in 1706 Sewall writes : — " Tuesday, Apr. 23. Gov'r comes to Town guarded by the Troops with their swords drawn ; dines at the Dragon, from thence proceeds to the Town house, Illuminations at night. Capt. Pelham tells me sev- eral wore crosses in their hats ; which makes me re- solve to stay at home ; (though Maxwell was at my House and spake to me to be at the Council-Chamber at 4 p. in.) Because to drinking • Healths, now the keeping of a day to fictitious St. George is plainly set on foot. It seems Capt. Dudley's men wore Crosses. Somebody had fasten'd a cross to a Dog's head ; Capt. Dudley's Boatswain seeing him, struck the Dog, and then went into the Shop, next where the Dog was, and struck down a Carpenter, one Davis, as he was at work not thinking anything : Boatswain and the other with him were fined 10^ each for breach of the peace by Jer. Dumer Esq: pretty much blood was shed by means of this bloody Cross, and the poor Dog a suf- ferer." It was conduct of this sort, on the part of Englishmen, which bred in New England the readi- ness for revolution, and it has therefore much signif- icance; but nevertheless one cannot help smiling at SewaU's compassion for the dog. The old system was in fact slipping away. Men began to violate, with impunity, the commands of the Bible as to dress, and to run after the customs of Eome in the matter of holy days, and there was no longer the strong hand of the law to stop them in 74 STUDIES IN HISTORY. such courses. Public opinion, too, had weakened, and breaches of Puritan doctrine were no longer regarded with abhorrence. Sewall did well to dread the prog- ress of these innovations, for they were sure signs that the end of that great movement which once swayed the English world was at hand. Other indications of the same tendency were not wanting. As early as 1681, Sewall remarks with dis- gust, that Mrs. Eandolph, the wife of the spy and in- former who was sent out under Charles II. to gather evidence against the charter, bowed in church at the name of Jesus. Another matter which gave rise to endless disputes and much heart-burning was the intro- duction of the English custom of swearing on and kiss- ing the Bible instead of in the Puritan manner by simply holding up the hand. In fact, everything relat- ing to the English Church was hateful to the Puritans of New England as savoring of Popery. One matter of deep import in this connection taught the Puritan community its first hard lesson of an enforced tolera- tion. After a stubborn resistance the English service was heard in Boston, and by authority of Andros was read within the walls of the Old South, and under the provincial government was permanently established. To the inhabitants this seemed little else than desecra- tion, for in their eyes the Book of Common Prayer was only a poor variety of the Popish mass. The gradual appearance of the rites of the English Church is sadly recorded by Sewall. In 1686 he writes : " Augt. 6. Wm. Harrison, the Bodies-maker, is buried, which is A PURITAN PEP VS. 75 the first that I know of burled with the Common- Prayer Book in Boston." In a similar way, he gloom- ily notes the first marriage in the Episcopal form. We can hardly realize now the importance attached by these people to outward signs. They looked upon them as inroads upon the outer bulwarks and defenses of the great doctrines for which they had suffered so many things. A few days after the entry just quoted Sewall says : " I was and am in great exercise about the Cross to be put into the Colours, and afraid if I should have a hand in 't whether it may not hinder my Entrance into the Holy Land." The old spirit which had moved John Endicott to tear the cross from the colors because it savored of idolatry was not yet wholly dead in New England. But it is not easy to conceive now the frame of mind in which a man doubted his salvation because the device in the na- tional flag was not to his taste. The change of government and the introduction of the Church service opened the way of course for many of the habits and customs of that period in England, and there were many persons, galled by the rigid Puri- tan restraint, who took advantage of the recent relaxa- tion to indulge themselves with pleasures which gTeatly shocked the sober inhabitants of Boston. " Friday, Sept. 3, 1686. Mr. Shrimpton, Capt. Lid- get and others, come in a Coach from Koxbury about 9. aclock or past, singing as they come, being inflamed with Drink : At Justice Morgan's they stop and drink Healths ; curse, swear, talk profanely and baudUy to 76 STUDIES TN HISTORY. the great disturbance of the Town and grief of good people. Such high-handed wickedness has hardly been heard of before in Boston." The revival of English sports gave almost as deep offense as open revel. Shrove Tuesday offered the first opportunity. " Feb. 15, 1686-7. Jos. Maylem carries a Cock at Ms back, with a Bell in 's hand, in the Main Street ; several follow him blindfold, and under pretence of striking him or 's cock, with great cart-whips strike passengers, and make great disturbance." These sports were checked after the fall of Andros, when the reaction was strong in favor of the old sys- tem, but during his supremacy they went on increas- ing, and added no doubt considerably to the unpopu- larity of the government. No heed was given to the popular prejudices in these matters, and it seemed as if the court party eveiji tried to insult the inhabitants, when we learn that on parade the officers pinned red paper crosses upon their breasts. The English sol- diers, now seen in Boston for the first time, of course took a leading part in all these sports. .They had matches with the quarter staff and stage fights, and two officers even fought a duel on the Common in Boston, for which they were promptly arrested. These practices and amusements took a fresh lease of life and showed renewed vigor after the establishment of the provincial government ; but they were carried on less objectionably, and popular opinion was some- what modified, although they were cordially disliked A PURITAN PEPYS. 77 by such men as Sewall, aud no doubt, in some re- spects, contributed to alienate the people from the mother country. They were most offensive at the outset under Andros, when they were paraded with a wanton disregard of the feelings of the people, and the general disgust excited by this stupid indifference to public sentiment, so characteristic of James II. and his servants, is well shown by the following passage, written in 1687 : — "It seems the May-pole at Charlestown was cut down last week, and now a bigger is set up, and a Garland upon it. A Souldier was buried last Wednes- day and disturbance grew by reason of Joseph Phips standing with 's hat on as the Parson was reading Service. 'Tis said Mr. Saml. Phips bid or encour- aged the Watch to cut down the May-pole, being a Se- lect-Man. And what about his brother and that, the Captain of the Fisher and he came to blows, and Phips is bound to answer next December, the Gov- ernour having sent for him before Him yesterday, May 26, 1687." Such affronts, even in trivial matters, probably had as much to do with the revolt against Andros as the graver attacks upon the liberties of the colonists. The diary throws but little new light upon the purely po- litical history of the time, and none at all upon the very obscure point of the actual outbreak. We are left as much in the dark as ever in regard to the con- duct of that successful rebellion, and are compelled to fall back on the old theory that the movement was 78 STUDIES IN HISTORY. wholly popular in its origin, and that the leading men of the community had nothing to do with it until suc- cess was assured. One point, however, is illustrated in the strongest manner in the diary, and that is the exact nature of the Andros government. Sewall re- counts, of course, all the various high-handed meas- ures of the governor as they are to be found in all his- tories of New England, but he shows very clearly that the rule of Andros was by no means that of a bloody- minded tyrant, as it was the fashion to consider him for many years after his fall. The government of Andros in Massachusetts was an exact reproduction in little of the government of his master in England. Both honestly thought their objects were good, and both were indifferent to the means by which those objects were attained. They were perfectly blind to the actual conditions under which they had to act, and were convinced that a system could be set up and maintained which was utterly distasteful to the great body of the people. Both succeeded in offending the moderate leaders, the men who were ready to bear much rather than resist, and both sealed their fate by so doing. What, for example, could have been more unwise than to drive such a man as Sewall to the wall by enforcing against him the unjust policy of requir- ing new patents for all land in New England? The policy in itself was bad enough, but to carry it out in- exorably against a prominent, respected, and moderate man like Sewall was the height of folly. The case, unfortunately, was tyj^ical of the reign of James. For A rURITAN PEPYS. 79 blind stupidity, the administration of the last Stuart attained an eminence in all parts of the English em- pire which can hardly be surpassed in history. On one point the diary of Sewall is very disap- pointing. There is next to nothing about the witch- craft delusion, although its author was one of the judges of the special court which tried and con- demned the unhappy victims of that excitement. He was, therefore, a chief actor in the whole business, and when seized with remorse, made the manly confession already alluded to. We had a right to expect full de- tails from such a man on a subject which is even more interesting psychologically than it is historically. A few brief and passing allusions are, however, all that Sewall permits himself on this topic. From one of them his profound belief in the reality of witchcraft is apparent, while another brings forcibly to mind the wretched victim of the peine forte et dure who, refus- ing to plead, was pressed to death. But that is all, and it is difficult to explain the writer's silence on a mat- ter which absorbed the attention of the whole commu- nity, and in which he himself took such a leading joart. Perhaps even then he had begun to suspect his own convictions, or, as was more probable, perhaps his whole heart and soul were so infected by the supersti- tious epidemic then raging in the colony, that he was in no mood to record, in the cold pages of a diary, the stirring events and terrible thoughts that must have beset him. However this may be, we learn nothing from the man who, above all others, was in a position 80 STUDIES IN HISTORY. to give to posterity the best account of the trials and executions for witchcraft. His frank and honest repentance in this matter il- lustrates one of the curious contradictions in Sewall's character. He was clearly a generous-minded man, not only perpetually doing little kindnesses, but al- ways ready to help the afflicted, and not ashamed to admit that he had been in the wrong and to confess his faults. He was also a very liberal man in certain ways. He has the honor of having been one of the very first of civilized men in modern times to publicly protest against African slavery and the slave-trade. In 1700 he published a tract directed against the traf- fic in human beings, and deserves for this act, if for nothing else, lasting remembrance. At the same time he was, as we have seen, narrow, and even harsh in re- ligious matters. He submitted to the establishment of the Church of England in Boston because it could not be helped, but he detested it cordially, and in 1708 he bitterly opposed granting permission to the Quakers to erect a meeting-house for the celebration of what he calls their " Devil's Worship." Both the liberality and the narrowness are typical of the man and of the time in which he lived. Both sprang from the consci- entiousness which was the most marked trait of the Puritan, and their combination represents the period of transition when New England turned slowly from the stern, grand, and uncompromising system of the early settlers, and, tacitly admitting that the great ex- periment had failed, began to modify and relax her A PURITAN PEPYS. 81 policy and adapt herself imperceptibly but stiU stead- ily to a broader civilization and a more generous if less vigorous creed. The first volume of the diary concludes with the es- tablishment of the new political system under Pliips, and the arrival of his successor, Lord Bellomont. The two last give us a picture of New England under the provincial government. They are distinctly less im- portant than the first, and their most amusing if not their most interesting passages are those in the third volume, which narrate at great length the author's courtships. After forty-four years of married life, Sewall's first wife died, and within five months the bereaved husband was contemplating matrimony again. He first paid his addresses to Mrs. Winthrop, the widow of his friend, General Wait StiU Winthrop. Receiving but slight encouragement, he turned to Mrs. Dennison, whose husband's will he had lately pro- bated. Much courting and interminable discussions about settlements ensued. The financial arrange- ments, however, promised so HI that Sewall broke the affair off, although he says "his bowels yearned to Mrs. Dennison," and although the lady came to his house to see him and urge him to change his unfa^ vorable decision. Soon afterwards he married the Widow Tilley who lived less than a year ; and then the disconsolate widower, for the second time, addressed himself to Mrs. Winthrop. He evidently had set his heart on this match and the wooing was protracted. The chief subject of discussion was, of course, set- 82 STUDIES IN HISTORY. tlements, but there were other and tenderer passages between them. He evinced a decided fondness for kissing his lady-love, and for holding her hand, as appears by his saying on one occasion, " Ask'd her to acquit me of Rudeness if I drew off her Glove. En- quiring the reason, I told her t'was great odds between handling a dead Goat and a living Lady. Got it off." Nevertheless his elderly ardor could not overcome the money difficulties. He declined to keep a coach or wear a wig and the lady finally forced him to abandon his suit. He then tried a Mrs. Rtiggles, and finally, after another protracted wrangle over settlements, married Mrs. Gibbs who survived him. The whole story is minutely told, and is very entertaining to the student of character, although it must be admitted that it brings into strong relief the petty as well as the sensual side of SewaU's nature, and does not do justice to the many noble qualities which he really possessed. The more public matters of historical interest in these two last volumes are not many. We have al- ready seen the gradual social changes which they depict, and apart from this the most important points are the decline of the influence of the once all-powerful clergy and the steady development of a compact and skillful opposition to the English governors. The struggle of the clergy to maintain their position in the state, after the old political system had been swept away, is a most interesting chapter in our history. It began with the vatchcraft excitement, to which it largely contributed^ A PURITAN PEPYS. 83 and afterwards centred in the conflict as to the con- trol of the college. There the battle was stubbornly- fought by the Mathers, who led the old church party; but they were hopelessly beaten by the astute Dudley, who, as governor, represented the purely temporal power. We catch sight of other evidences of their waning power when Sewall notes in 1702 that the ministers were much disgusted because the representa- tives went first when the queen was proclaimed ; and again, when he says, in 1717, that the governor turned to talk to somebody as the ministers went out of church, and so had his back to them, a grave affront in those days. Indeed, we can see plainly throughout the two last volumes how fast the old clericalism was losing ground. The tide of j)ublic opinion had begun to set strongly against the vigorous but narrow theo- ries of the early Puritans, and the general drift is also shown by the manner in which mooted theological questions are discussed at length in the diary. Great differences of opinion and broader views on many points of doctrine were evidently beginning to creep in. The old system was at an end, and more liberal modes of thought were coming in fashion. So it was with the purely political matters. The old spirit of independence had vanished, and a new one was grad- ually arising which was destined to replace it. Sewall himself was an eminently moderate man, but he was usually in opposition to the governor for the time be- ing, and when he had once decided on his course noth- ing could stir him. The fire of controversy often 84 STUDIES IN HISTORY. burned low, but it never went out ; the least attempt to increase executive power was jealously resisted and the popular party slowly but surely gained ground. It was on the whole a very quiet time, but the people were being steadily trained to Parliamentary resist- ance, and they needed no education to teach them to protect their rights and liberties. A new era had opened for Massachusetts and New England, and in those peaceful days during the early years of the eighteenth century the seeds of the future political history of the country were sown. The dark days of the first settlement, the rigid system of untrammeled Puritanism, the great objects, the high and independ- ent policy of the company of Massachusetts Bay were at end. The period of repose had come, for the En- glish world needed rest after the fierce struggles of the seventeenth century. But it is during that time of inactivity that the people of New England gath- ered fresh strength and the new forces came into ex- istence which made the revolution of 1776 a possibil- ity and a success. THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. The study of great political changes and convul- sions always reveals their inevitable character, if we go beyond the immediate incidents and seek the re- mote causes which are to be found in a long course of years in the life, habits, and condition of the people, and in the general course of social and political devel- opment. This was preeminently the case with the French revolution, whose forces had been slowly gathering from the time of the Edict of Nantes, and even earlier, until they reached a point where the only possible solution was in a rending and tearing of the body politic, so terrible that it was brought to al- most absolute dissolution. In the " Great Eebellion " again, while the acts which precipitated civil strife — the ship-money and the church policy, the war with Scotland and the attempted seizure of the five mem- bers — lie on the surface, the causes which made the great change unavoidable, in one form or another, must be sought far back at the beginning of the cen- tury in the dreary and seemingly petty conflicts of the reign of James I. These examples have been taken merely because they are obvious and familiar, but the 86 STUDIES IN HISTORY. same proposition holds true of all similar events in the history of mankind. To this rule of remote causes our own revolution, which secured our indejjendence, seems at first sight to form a marked exception. This does not mean, of course, that the colonists were not justified in rebel- lion, or that they went to war without ample provoca- tion. Nothing, on the contrary, is clearer, or at this day more generally admitted, than that they were wholly in the right, and that if men ever had good reason to fight for a principle, they had. There was, in fact, no choice. They exhausted every resource of argument, petition, and legal opposition, and then ap- pealed to arms to decide between them and their mother country. When it is said that our revolution was without remote causes, we mean that one can go back to the accession of William of Orange, and come down to the period of the Stamp Act, and in all those years fail to find in the colonies themselves a single indication that, before the century closed, they would be compelled to readjust their relations with England by revolution. The provinces were vigorous, growing English communities, full of vitality and accustomed to great political freedom. The people wrangled steadily with their governors, it is true, for they had always managed their affairs pretty much as they pleased ; they lived in a new country where tradition was weak, and they resented, in genuine English fash- ion, anything like undue outside interference with their own concerns. This shows that they needed ju- THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 87 dicious, firm management, and a colonial policy at once generous and appreciative. If this had been the policy, and above all if there had been no busy and ignorant meddling, all would have gone well. The colonists were perfectly contented with their lot, were thoroughly loyal, loved the mother country, gloried in her victories, sorrowed for her defeats, and had a pro- found pride in the great empire of which they consti- tuted so important a part. There is absolutely noth- ing in the history of the English people in America, during the first half of the eighteenth century, to sug- gest a revolution by force of arms ; much less anything which gives it an inevitable character. The colonies were developing naturally and harmoniously in well- defined and fitting lines. It is easy to say that the conquest of Canada loosened the bonds which held America to England ; but mere increase of opportu- nity is far from equivalent to cause. It is equally simple to trace the measures from the passage of the Stamp Act to the Declaration of Independence, which brought on revolution with sure and steady steps. But the revolution began with the Stamp Act ; and great revolutions do not spring from the false policy of a narrow-minded minister in the night, and come to maturity in ten years. The immediate causes of the American revolution are clear and plentiful ; the remote, far-reaching, and true causes cannot be found in the colonies themselves. The revolution was, in fact, not merely American, but one which affected the whole English race, and which produced results in 88 STUDIES IN HISTORY. England only less important than those which it pro- duced here. The remote and governing causes must be looked for elsewhere than in the colonies ; and they well repay the search, for the magnitude of their effects can hardly be overestimated. If Sir Robert Walpole's policy of " Quieta non mcmere " had been pursued; if his treatment of the colonies had been simply continued, and if they had been allowed to work out their own destiny in their own way, — it requires no very violent stretch of the imagination to guess at the result. They would have gone hand in hand with England in the great conflict with France ; the politi- cal ties would have slowly and imperceptibly weak- ened; they would have become too powerful to be governed in any degree otherwise than by themselves ; and mother and child would finally have parted po- litically, but have still been held by affection and in- terest, and possibly imited by a treaty of alliance. Perhaps it is as well for the rest of mankind that this is not the case, and that such a gigantic power should not now exist ; but its possibility is no very extrav- agant hypothesis, and the events which prevented its completion and raised up a new nation — to-day the greatest and most powerful in the world — well de- serve a close study of their remote causes. The sources of the American revolution, which be- yond the most general conditions imposed by circum- stances are sought in vain in the history of the colo- nies, can readily be discovered in England, whose empire was then unbroken. There the forces which THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 89 led to this far-reaching change may be found, and there may their growth be traced. The seventeenth century was a period of revokition and turmoil. The victory of constitutional liberty was won with the Prince of Orange, confirmed by the succession of the House of Brunswick, and secured, during the reigns of the first two Georges, by that great statesman, Sir Robert Walpole, who gives his name to the period in which he ruled and to the policy which he originated and established. The object of Walpole was to give England complete rest both at home and abroad in order to allow her strength to be recuperated, her sta- bility to be restored, and, above all, finally to repress contention for the crown and secure the Protestant succession. That the work was well done the fate of the Young Pretender amply proved. Charles Ed- ward marched to Derby, the inert and feeble ministry quaking with idle fear, and then feU. back in ignomin- ious retreat, defeated solely by the inaction of the English Jacobites and the cold dislike of the English people. If this had stood alone, Walpole's wisdom would have been amply justified : but his foresight and sagacity were still further shown when Mr. Pitt, in every way his exact opposite, came to the head of affairs. Dragging England from the slough into which she had been plunged by that greatest of office peddlers and meanest of men, the Duke of Newcastle, Pitt raised his country to the height of glory by lav- ishing, with unstinted hand, the strength which had been stored up by Walpole. We may dislike the 90 STUDIES IN HISTORY. methods of the minister who declared, with more truth than civility, "that every man had his price ; " but no one can question either his greatness, his services, or his success. At the same time it must also be admitted that Walpole's policy and methods had grave faults of their own, or rather magnified and fostered the evil tendencies of the time. In the first place, the issue on which party lines were drawn was almost entirely a moral and personal issue. Constitutional liberty and English freedom had been saved by the revolu- tion of 1688, and the maintenance of the Protestant succession and of the House of Brunswick was the pledge of their security. All that was asked of any man was that he should shout for King George, and cry " Down with King James ! " and those who re- fused soon came to be looked upon as essentially bad men. It was only necessary that a man should be sound on the " main question "to be a good and rul- ing Whig. If his dynastic views were correct, a Whig might be as corrupt as he pleased, or hold any opinions he chose on any subject of finance, taxation, or administration. This was the result of a struggle in which the life of the nation had been at stake, and when political definitions and estimates of character were correspondingly simple. Its effect, however, as has always been the case in like instances both be- fore and since, was disastrous in the extreme to the party to whom victory had given uncontrolled power. Every principle of honor and morality was sapped THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 91 and degraded. Walpole, unfortunately, who was nei- ther refined nor sensitive, used the base passions of the time to serve his own ends, and in so doing sub- jected them to a hot-house culture. The Whig party became utterly and miserably corrupt and factious, while the Jacobites — who, as a hopeless minority, were necessarily for a longer time a party of con- science and honor — eventually through the dexterous manipulation of Walpole came to be every whit as bad as their opponents. One weU- known anecdote sums up, as clearly as possible, the condition of politi- cal morality and personal honor among English states- men in the reign of George II. Walpole and Hard- wicke were wrangling over the terms upon which the latter should be made chancellor ; and at last Walpole said, " I must offer the seals to Fazakerly ! " " Fazak- erly ! " exclaimed Hardwicke, " impossible ! he is cer- tainly a Tory, perhaps a Jacobite ! " " It 's all very true," said Sir Kobert ; " but if by one o'clock you do not accept my offer, Fazakerly by two becomes Lord Keeper and one of the stanchest Whigs in all Eng- land." As every one knows, Lord Hardwicke was the next chancellor. Politics in truth had become not simply a mere game, but nothing more than a scramble for places, pensions, contracts, and sinecures. A seat in Parlia- ment was bought to acquire influence which could be sold, and offices were valued simply in proportion to the plunder they afforded. Sir Eobert Walpole was dragged from power by a combination of greedy fac- 92 STUDIES IN HISTORY. tions, and every successive ministry met its fate in tlie same way. No principle was ever involved in a change of administration : it was a mere question of "connections" and "arrangements," the distribution of patronage and the share in the spoils. No one es- caped the contagion. Mr. Pitt was an almost solitary exception even in the sordid point of pecuniary hon- esty, and yet he too could employ a magnificent servil- ity toward his sovereign, and was constantly dealing in his own grand manner in arrangements and in- trigues. When he came to power it was by throwing the patronage which he despised to the Duke of New- castle, as one would throw a bone to a hungry cur ; and his advent was not on a question of policy, but because it was absolutely necessary to secure a great statesman and still greater war minister to carry Eng- land through a hitherto disastrous struggle. The glo- ries of Pitt's administration, which hushed and daz- zled Parliament and raised the English race to the highest pitch of greatness which they ever reached under one flag, lift the wretched history of corrupt factions into a purer atmosphere of broad statesman- ship and victorious war. The accession of George III. drove Pitt into retirement, nominally on the issue of war or peace ; but the change meant really a reversion to an even worse condition of politics than that which had preceded his ministry. The degradation of public life and public morals was now about to bear fruit. Sooner or later a sov- ereign was certain to come who would see that by cor- THE EARLY DAYS OP FOX. 93 ruption the power which had been grasped by the Whig aristocracy could be torn from them ; that it would then be possible to restore the crown to the position which it had occupied in the time of Charles II. Everything, however delusive in reality, was to a king in appearance at least peculiarly favorable. The Jacobites and Tories were ready to transfer their loyalty from the hopeless cause of the Stuarts to the reigning house of Brunswick, and they and the Scotch were fuUy prepared to support any stretch of the prerogative. The once all-powerful Whig party was rent with bitter factions and honey-combed with political and pecuniary corruption, so that their pol- itics, as Dr. Johnson said, were no better than the pol- itics of stock-jobbers and the religion of infidels. A far stupider man than George III. would have seen his opportunity and seized it; a wiser man would have grasped it in order to use it to good and beneficent purpose. A great prince would have appealed to the people, and, as the popular leader, would have beaten down the oligarchy which hedged the throne, oppressed the masses, and stifled all proper public responsibility. A king of naiTow mind and mean ambitions would have seen only the chance to wrest from the aristocracy the power which he coveted for himself, and would have used against his nobles the same demoralizing and debauched methods which they had employed against him and against the people. Unluckily for England George III. was a ruler of the latter type, and was eager to make the most of his opportimities with noth- 94 STUDIES IN HISTORY. ing but tie smallest and most selfish ends in view. The condition of affairs was certainly perilous enough. Parliament was open to almost any daring or evU scheme ; the king was bent upon restoring the power of the crown ; the state was loaded with crying abuses ; the gi'eat political families were either fight- ing savagely with_ each other, or devising new combi- nations for office-holding, accompanied always with fresh instances of political profligacy and a further extension of corruption ; and underneath all this, among an imrepresented people of keen political in- stincts, was a mass of seething, blind, inarticulate op- position and a hot desire for a redress of grievances which they could not themselves explain. It is to this scene in English history that Mr. Trevelyan has ad- dressed himself in the " Early History of Fox." ^ The subject is a fine one. The period is full of salient points and of strong contrasts of light and shade. It is suited especially to a historian of the school of Lord Macaulay, to which Mr. Trevelyan be- longs ; and indeed, partly by inheritance, partly per- haps by unconscious imitation, his style is strongly tinged with the rich colors employed so unsparingly by his uncle. The early days of Fox demand a writer with talents of this kind, and with the cast of mind to which the picturesque in history appeals more strongly than anything else, for in historical coloring and effective incident it is, like many other periods 1 Early History of Charles James Fox, By George Otto Tre- velyan. 1880. THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 95 of moral and political degradation, marvelously rich. Those were the halcyon days of the aristocracy in point of mere power ; and the outside of the time glit- ters with wit and learning, with art, literature, and belles-lettres, just as the rich and brilliant dress of the fine ladies and gentlemen sparkled with jewels. It was the age of Chatham and Burke ; of Wilkes, Beck- ford, and Junius ; of Barr^, Camden, Shelburne, and Conway ; of Johnson, Goldsmith, and Garrick. They all live for us upon the gracious and noble canvases of Sir Joshua Keynolds, and the great leaders stand out in history against a gorgeous background of roy- alty, titles, nobility, and wealth. It was, too, the age of letter-writing, when correspondence was one of the fine arts, — neither too expensive nor too difficult, as it had been a century before, nor too rapid and easy, as it is at the present day. For this reason rich material lies on the surface, and the picturesque his- torian does not need to delve deeply, but can gather everything he wants with little pains, troubled only by the task of selection and arrangement. This is the case with Mr. Trevelyan. With Walpole alone, almost, — certainly with Walpole supplemented by a dozen or twenty of the best known lives, memoirs, and collections of letters, — this volume, so far as mere material goes, might readily have been written. The investigation of the betting-book at Brookes' is an ex- ception to the general rule ; and the results of this bit of research are not only curious, but cast a bright beam of light upon the fashionable and fast life of the 96 STUDIES IN HISTORY. time. The art of a writer like Mr. Trevelyan does not lie, however, in the collection of masses of new material from dusty archives, and the illumination of dark places by deductions which he would thus be en- abled to draw. "How do you mix your colors?" asked a friend of Gilbert Stuart. "As I do sugar in my tea, according to my taste," replied the great portrait painter. In the same way it is a question of taste with writers of Mr. Trevelyan's school. They are to be tried not by the depth of their research or the profundity of their science, but by the fineness of their art. Yet they also teach the lessons and the philosophy of his- tory, when they do their work well, much better than those who occupy a species of historical pulpit and sad- den us by their judicial lectures and learned sermons. Mr. Trevelyan's purpose is to present a many-sided picture of a certain period, and his merit consists in the skill of his drawing and coloring with the ma- terials open to all and readily accessible. In this field he has achieved a signal success. He has the true sense of historic effect ; and he has, what is equally im- portant, the keen love of politics and the strong sym- pathy with politicians, especially of the Whig school, so essential to the writer who seeks not only to under- stand the period in question, but to interest his readers in the turns and windings of political management and intrigue. Mr. Trevelyan's book unrolls a panorama of the early years of George III., vigorous in draw- ing and brilliant in coloring, vivid and distinct. But at this point Mr. Trevelyan stops. He does not seek THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 97 to disclose the springs of the machinery which he de- scribes ; he does not give us the reasons for the ex- istence of the phenomena he has portrayed ; he does not tell us what his picture meant at the moment, or what it portended in the future. In thus limiting himself there can be no doubt that Mr. Trevelyan is artistically right. He leaves his picture to speak for itself to every one who looks upon it, and does not at- tempt to aid them by a running commentary or ex- planation. But to the critic or student who is not content to say " brilliant, clever, interesting," and there an end, the very things which Mr. Trevelyan omits are those of the deepest interest. Mr. Trevelyan, however, strikes the key-note in the opening pages, where he speaks of his subject as " a period of transition." It was indeed above all a period of change. The same forces were at work in England which, before the century closed, were felt throughout the western world with the most momen- tous results. Aristocracy and despotism had in the most enlightened countries done their work as political systems, and in their progress they had become loaded with abuses. Aristocracy might be so modified as still to do good service ; but if this failed, then it and despotism alike were doomed : they were passing away, and the problem was how the change could be most easily accomplished. Future history was to be made up of the rise of democracy and the spread of the doctrine of the greatest good of the greatest num- ber, as the true aim of society and government. The 7 98 STUDIES IN HISTORY. student in Ms library can see all this to-day plainly enough, but it was very dark to the men of the eight- eenth century. Some were in absolute darkness, — blind, mole-like Tories like Dr. Johnson, and noble- men and gentry not blessed with sufficient strength of intellectual vision. Other and greater minds saw as through a glass darkly, and had even then begun to grope their way about in search of the true means of solving the mighty problem which they felt press- ing upon them. To this class belonged in a certain sense Chatham, and in every sense Burke, although he went astray subsequently in the madness naturally awakened by the " Terror." Besides these two there were also Conway, Shelburne, Fox at a later time, and the younger Pitt when he first became minister. But when Mr. Trevelyan's hero came upon the stage of public life the night had not yet lifted ; the king was trying his not unreasonable experiment of building up the power of the crown ; and a revolution which rent the empire in twain had to be faced before the re- forms begun by Fox, continued by Pitt, and arrested for fifty years by the French Revolution became even barely possible. It was, in short, the opening period of the era of change and transition with which the eighteenth century closed and the nineteenth began ; a very dangerous and inflammable period, full of pos- sibilities of great good and great evil, and very imper- fectly understood by those who acted in it and swayed its fortunes. Some of Mr. Trevelyan's critics have taken him to 'HE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 99 task for calling Charles Fox "the first of modern English statesmen." The description is possibly a little too sweeping, but it is essentially correct. In all that time there is no man so thoroughly typical of the period of transition as Fox. Starting as an ad- herent of the ministry, as a follower of the dark and tortuous path trodden by his father, Fox became on the one hand a leader of the old constitutional Whigs, clinging to their aristocratic traditions, and venerat- ing the principles of the " happy revolution ; " while on the other he was a man of the future, the re- former of abuses at home and in the colonies, the opponent of slavery, the generous champion of the American colonists and of the people of France. There grew up about him, in his later years, a set of men who, beginning with domestic reform, with slavery and the criminal law, finally, by themselves or by their followers and descendants, effected the great changes of 1832, which gave us the England of the present day. Fox was the connecting link between the states- men of the eighteenth century and those of recent times ; but in all his best and most characteristic qualities he may be fitly styled "the first of modern English statesmen." The ties which bound him to the past led him into the errors and mistakes which warped and maimed his career. It was the Fox of the eighteenth century who served under Lord North, and who entered into the Coalition of 1782. It was the Fox of the nineteenth century, the first and by far the greatest of modern English statesmen, who 100 STUDIES IN HISTORY. struggled for reform ; who almost alone and with the most splendid courage confronted overwhelming ma- jorities, and saw the real meaning and good of the French devolution through the murky clouds of the " Terror ; " and it was this Charles Fox, the lovable and the beloved, who came to be the hero and demi- god of the best school of English public men. The early days of Fox were his worst days. Indeed, in the opening years of his life it is not easy to dis- cover the great liberal of the future. Yet like all the rest of Fox's career his early life was typical. He in- herited the doctrines of his father, who was, perhaps, as bad an example as could be found of all the jjolit- ical vices of the eighteenth century in England. Of- fices and plunder were the creed of the first Lord Holland ; and his son, making himself master of these and backed by bought majorities, astonished the House of Commons by his brilliant, youthful rhetoric, attacking what was right with the same success which he won in later years when he denounced what was wrong. It was the way of the world into which Charles Fox was born, and he took up all the ways of that world with equal extravagance and success. This period, drawn so vividly for us by Mr. Tre- velyan, and in which Charles Fox was cutting a fig- ure which extorted praise and wonder even from the grudging pen of Horace Walpole, was pregnant with great possibilities and destined to bring forth vast changes. The time was ripe for wise and beneficent reforms ; it was also ripe for revolution and disaster, THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 101 and it fell to the lot of George III. to solve the prob- lem. George III. has been, to our thinking, a much- misunderstood character. The popular idea seems to be that he was a well-meaning, honest, stupid, and ob- stinate man, of irreproachable private life and high notions of the prerogative. There is in this, of course, an element of truth ; but owing largely to Thackeray his domestic virtues have obscured his public con- duct. In his family George III. led the decent, nar- row, dull life of a respectable provincial shopkeeper or farmer. It was an agreeable contrast, it must be con- fessed, to the loose living of his grandfather, the weak profligacy of his father, and the weaker and still worse profligacy of his son. At the same time George II., on the whole, was a far more estimable character than his grandson and a far better king. The latter's plain domestic virtues, which gave way readily enough at need, — as when the queen made herself the protec- tress of the tarnished reputation of Mrs. Hastings, — did a world of harm to England. Respectability in private life served George III. many a good turn in his abandoned public career ; for it is hardly going too far to say that, from a public point of view, he was one of the worst kings who ever filled the English throne. He was anything but a stupid man ; on the contrary, he had good natural abilities and a pro- digious capacity for work. He saw the opportunity offered by English politics of regaining by corruption what force had failed to maintain, and this oppor- tunity he set himself to improve with the sole idea 102 STUDIES IN HISTORY. of building up his own power and prerogatives. He showed in his proceedings a good deal of sagacity ; and his obstinacy was not a mark of dullness, but was closely akin to the quality of firmness which has been of service to many greater men. He fomented and encouraged every factious quarrel, until he had effaced party distinctions and made combinations not merely difficult, but well-nigh impossible. He buUt up a party In politics utterly devoid of iDrlncIple, and held together solely by attachment to his person. He used every form of corruption In a way which would have astonished even Sir Kobert Walpole. Unscru- pulous ability he cherished, as in the case of Thur- low and Wedderburn ; but he admitted no other, and most of his ministers were chiefly conspicuous for ar- rogance and ignorance. His falseness was as great, almost, as that of the first Charles. There was not an enemy and hardly a friend whom he did not sooner or later betray, if he thought himself liable to be thwarted, or saw in perfidy the means of gaining a point. Such a king was a dangerous ruler for England in 1760, and George had only too good grounds for hoping that his experiment would succeed. He failed by shortness of vision, not through lack of clearness of perception. He saw distinctly his Immediate object and aU the methods of attaining It ; but he saw very dimly, if at all, the remote consequences and the hidden and con- trolling forces with which he had to grapple. He paid no heed to the people, that great force which would have brought him a noble triumph, but thought only THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 103 of himself and mean personal aggrandizement. He did not reckon sufficiently upon the power of resist- ance, the inborn political sense and strong love of lib- erty inherent in the great mass of the English race. He heard the voices about him, those of court, society, and Parliament, and they flattered his hopes ; but he was deaf to the sound of the far mightier voices which came up in hoarse murmurs from an unrepresented and misgoverned people. How far George III. could have advanced if he had confined himseK exclusively to England is an open question, so far as momentary success is concerned, although there could have been ultimately but one result. Everything certainly prom- ised an immediate victory. The opposition was grad- ually divided, broken up, and discredited by the royal policy, until nothing remained to it but eloquence, character, and ability. All these it had, but few votes, and no power. A ministry was at last developed in command of a strong and servile majority and whoUy subservient to the crown ; in short, a ministry of the king's friends. The outlook at the close of the first decade of George's reign certainly promised well for the prerogative. The king's scheme, in fact, had gone so far that the real question was, at bottom, not whether there would be a revolution, but when and where the revolution would come. George III. forced it forward, and made reform impossible and revolu- tion sure. The warnings of the impending storm were clear enough, but no one heeded them. Wilkes and the Middlesex election shook the kingdom from one 104 STUDIES IN HISTORY. end to the other, and the excitement of the popular mind at that moment foretold surely the result of the royal policy if persisted in. But the king carried the day and believed himself stronger than ever, and the lesson of the Middlesex electors taught him and his advisers nothing. The shrill diatribes of Junius struck a responsive chord throughout the country, be- cause they expressed the inarticulate rage of a peo- ple shockingly misgoverned. The court strove to sup- press them because they were abusive and seditious, and tended to excite the people; but they failed to see that the real meaning and danger of Junius lay not in what he wrote, but in something beyond the reach of prosecutions, — in the popular sympathy with the hidden writer, in the echo of his words among hundreds who felt dumbly all that Junius expressed. But George III. and his abettors saw none of this : they did not see what the eighteenth century had been preparing ; they only knew that they were gaining strength, that they had control of Parliament, and that they had wrested power from the great Whig families. The Wliig aristocracy had driven James from the throne and established the House of Bruns- wick. If this aristocracy, therefore, feU before the crown, who were left to resist the king? The men who reasoned in this way forgot the people, or rather never considered them as a factor. A new force was arising in the world, — that of the people, of democ- racy, the force of the future; and it was with this that kings and ministers had to reckon, and not with THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 105 that of the past, the force of aristocracy. This new element was moving restlessly and unceasingly ; but the question was, When and where would it be called out ? If George III. had confined his work to Eng- land, it would sooner or later have sprung into life there, and would have fought its battle at once instead of advancing slowly and in more wholesome fashion for nearly a century. But this was not to be. The Eng- lish revolution of the eighteenth century was destined to be precipitated and fought out in a new world, where the first great uprising of the English people had done so much to plant the germs of powerful states. If a revolution in England had not anticipated that in America, the colonies would sooner or later have come within the scope of George's policy, which derived its strength from the condition of English politics and society. That the provinces were the first to come into conflict with the king was largely due to chance. The close of the French war revealed to politicians — among whom the greed for money was the paramount consideration — tliirteen rich, growing, and vigorous commonwealths, of which, thanks to the wisdom of Sir Robert Walpole, they had previously known little or nothing. They saw at a glance that the colonies were very loosely governed and very lightly taxed. An enchanting vista of sinecures and revenue was thus opened before them, and to the honest, narrow-minded George Grenville a fine opportunity was presented for improved administration and, as a necessary eon- sequence, ignorant meddling. The Stamp Act fol- 106 STUDIES IN HISTORY. lowed, and there was an explosion of resistance from one end of America to the other, which ought to have been a lesson suificiently strong to have made the rev- olution impossible. The Eockingham Whigs repealed the Stamp Act ; but like many other excellent and well-meaning men they proved to be weak as well as good, and they pacified themselves and Parliament by declaring that they had the right to do that which they dared not undertake. They salved the wound, but left the sting behind. Sustained by the declaratory act, men who had none of the liberal views or constitu- tional principles of the Whigs took up the policy of taxation and interference. There is no need to trace the progress of this policy. Each step on the part of England was marked by deeper folly than its prede- cessor, until at last the crisis came, and the tea of the East India Company floated in Boston harbor. George III. thoroughly sujiported, of course, the pol- icy of more government and more interference ; but his profound interest was not awakened until he was met by forcible opposition. Boston had openly re- sisted the power of the crown and the power of Par- liament, which the king was absorbing ; and this re- sistance must be crushed. Whether George III. saw his opportunity to repeat the policy of Strafford with a better issue may be doubted ; but there can be no question that the tendency of the two schemes was identical, and that a victorious army, largely composed of mercenaries returning from the conquest of the col- onies, would have been a fearful menace to England. THE EARLY DATS OF FOX. 107 At all events, war was pushed on, and the world knows what came of it. George III. selected the very worst part of his dominions in which to bring his plans to a practical test. In America he had to deal, not with weakened aristocracy and a corrupt House of Com- mons, nor with a rich and extravagant society, but with a simple, frugal, hardy people, neither very rich nor very poor, free from traditions and uncontaminated by the vices of Europe. He was supported in his enter- prise by the great mass of his people at home, both high and low ; and there is nothing so instructive, in regard to the period described by Mr. Trevelyan, as the attitude of the people, and especially the ruling classes, of England toward the colonies. They saw neither art, literature, nor great individual wealth in America ; and it was assumed that the colonists were therefore poor, ignorant, and sordid. They utterly failed to see that the average of education in the col- onies by any standard of that day was high ; and they found out only by hard experience that the Ameri- cans were keen politicians, thoroughly versed in con- stitutional principles, and capable of parliamentary debate and of state papers beyond anything which could be produced at that moment by an English ministry. But of all their blunders the most imbecile and fatuous was the assumption that the Americans, that the Virginian gentlemen and the New England descendants of the Roundheads, would not fight ; that they were cowards. Lord Sandwich, perhaps the most contemptible of all the contemptible men then 108 STUDIES IN HISTORY in public life, gave utterance to this profound senti- ment, and there is every reason to suppose that it met with general concurrence. Ignorance of other people and arrogance toward them have been responsible for almost all the misfortunes and errors of England, but they never cost her so much as in 1776. There was, too, a fatal defect in George's policy. It had in English society an excellent field for work ; but the very condition of the times gave it no fit mate- rial for the execution of schemes of war and conquest. The war itself is another vigorous commentary on the condition of England. The recently published con- temporary history of the Revolution, by a New York Tory, who sacrificed everything, including high judi- cial office, to his loyalty, tells the story. The author attacks his rebel countrymen ; but his bitterest revil- ings are reserved for the English armies and generals. The Americans put at their head one of the greatest statesmen and generals that the world has ever seen. The English sent Grage, Howe, Clinton, Burgoyne, and Cornwallis to fight their battles and defeat George Washington. Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and John Jay represented the colonies abroad; but the names of the Englishmen who were to counteract their diplomacy are forgotten. There is no need to pursue the comparison. It is always the same story. The revolution which had been preparing in Eng- land burst in America ; and England was saved from George III., from the schemes of prerogative, and perhaps from civil war. The surrender at Yorktown THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 109 brought the fall of Lord North. The Rockingham Whigs came into power; but they were too weak, their day had passed, and the death of Lord Rock- ingham,' with some justice called a " poor creature " by the ever genial Horace Walpole, was enough to shatter them. There was a vigorous effort for reform, for the storm of the American war cleared the air ; but it failed. Then came the infamous coalition, and George III., helpless before an " arrangement " which he had thought to have made impossible, under the guidance of Pitt, appealed at last to the people. This was the finishing stroke of the revolution. George III. and the coalition in reality fell together, and the history of England began to flow in new channels; checked and impeded and of sluggish current at first, but moving steadily in harmony with the democratic tendencies of the age. The great questions underlying all are why George III. could try such a policy with a prospect of success; and why the inevitable and needed change came by a revolution so sweeping that it cost England thirteen colonies, millions of treasure, and a glory which a few years before had dazzled the world. The answers are well given by Mr. Trevel- yan in his picture of the early days of Fox. WILLIAM COBBETT. It is rather surprising that the recent biography of William Cobbett^ should have attracted apparently so little attention in this country. Cobbett not only had a very remarkable and interesting life, but he also played an important, though well-nigh forgotten, part in early American politics. He was one of the found- ers of our party press, and by far the ablest ; and his brief but stormy career in Philadelphia casts a strong side-light upon the politics of the day and the history of the time. But a much broader and deeper interest is attached to Cobbett in another way. He was, in his way, the " abstract and brief chronicle " of the violent controversies engendered by the French Revolution, of the forces which that mighty convulsion let loose, and of the consequent struggles and changes produced in England. Cobbett was essentially and in every re- spect a typical and representative man. He was the type of the mass of Englishmen, the exponent of a great social and political conflict, and the represen- tative of the passions, hopes, and aspirations which agitated the English people at the beginning of the nineteenth century. There have been many great 1 William Cobbett : A Biography. By Edward Smith. 1878. WILLIAM COBBETT. Ill men at all stages of the world's history, but very few thoroughly representative men on the largest scale. As a rule, indeed, no one very great man is represen- tative. The fact of his genius, of his ability to do great deeds and forecast the future, raises him so far above his fellow-men that, however much he may un- derstand his time and the people about him, he fails to represent or, more exactly, to reproduce them. Napo- leon was a man of almost unbounded genius, yet he was not representative except in a very limited way. William Cobbett had strong natural abilities, but he was no genius ; and nevertheless he was thoroughly and completely representative. His fame rests upon the extent of his constituency and his faithful repro- duction of their ideas and wishes ; aiid it is in this capacity that he acquires historical importance. There has never been a man for whose biography more abundant materials existed. His success, act- ing upon an impulsive and vigorous nature and a half- educated mind, produced a most intense egotism. He was so deeply impressed by his own career, and by the obstacles he had overcome through dogged persistence and sheer force of character, that he firmly believed nothing to be more generally interesting or more deeply instructive than the incidents of his life. His favorite subject, therefore, was his own biography, which he was continually writing and publishing, either entire or in detached fragments. He has, in consequence, left a portrait of himself as he seemed to himself, which is unequaled in vividness and fullness 112 STUDIES IN HISTORY. of detail. We know just what he thought, said, and did at every moment of his eventful history, and are thus enabled to draw a picture of the man, very dif- ferent from his own, it is true, but which is probably more accurate. The description which Lord St. Leonards gave of himself when he told his constituents that he had, " like themselves, sprung from the dregs of the peo- ple," would hardly be applicable to Cobbett, but the parentage of the future agitator was certainly very humble. Cobbett's grandfather was a day-laborer, and his father a small farmer ; and yet, although his im- mediate ancestry was obscure, he could boast that he was the pure-blooded descendant of a mighty line. lie belonged to the great family of the common people of England, and was a thorough Saxon in every nerve and fibre. Those men were his ancestors whose bodies lay piled in a ramjiart round the dragon of Wessex when night fell upon the battle-field of Hastings, and he could claim descent from the bowmen whose ar- row-flights had shattered the ranks of the French at Cressy, and resisted the charge of the French knight- hood at Agincourt. A few generations later, and they were following Hampden to the field, and scatter- ing the cavaliers at Marston Moor. They were the men who, as Macaulay says, " drove before them in headlong route the finest infantry of Spain." They built up Virginia in the wilderness, and followed Bradford and Winthrop to the rocks of New England. It was the strong sense of the worth and glory of WILLIAM COBBETT. 113 the race and class to which he belonged which was the underlying principle of Cobbett's life, and no man had a better right to it. In every way he was typical, physically and mentally. The round, rosy, rather heavy face, the flaxen hair, the powerful and thick- set frame, the general air of hearty animal vigor, — - all bespeak his nationality; and mind and character corresponded to the body which inclosed them. In every incident of Cobbett's life, the sturdy, stubborn persistence, the love of home and independence, the delight in fighting for fighting's sake, and the utter incapacity to recognize defeat, — all of which mark the Anglo-Saxon, — - come out with wonderful clear- ness, and form a combination of qualities for which one may look in vain among other nations. Such a character has, of course, grave defects. Its possessors are apt to be narrow, slow of perception, brutal at times, and neither adaptable nor adroit. But it is preeminently a character of force, fitted for conquest, government, and freedom ; and its results can be esti- mated by the place which the English speech and the English race hold to-day in the world, and by the magnitude of the states they have erected and the wealth and power they control. William Cobbett was born in Surrey in the year 1762, and there his early years were passed. He followed the plow, worked in the fields, became a gardener's lad, and led a wholesome rustic life. A large part of his education was in the training of eye and ear, of hand and body, which an active country 114 STUDIES IN HISTORY. life alone affords. It was a bringing up to whicli he always looked back with pride and gratitude, and he tells its story in a blunt, denunciatory, egotistic fashion so characteristic of himself that it merits quotation. He is speaking, late in life, of a sand-hill in the neigh- borhood of his home, down the steep sides of which he and his brothers were wont to roU : " This was the spot where I was receiving my education ; and this was the sort of education. And I am perfectly satisfied that if I had not received such an education, or some- thing very much like it, — that if I had been brought up a milksop, with a nursery maid everlastingly at my heels, — I should have been at this day as great a fool, as inefficient a mortal, as any of those frivolous idiots that are turned out from Winchester and Westminster School, or from any of those dens of dunces called col- leges and universities. It is impossible to say how much I owe to that sand-hill ; and I want to return it my thanks for the ability which it probably gave me to be one of the greatest terrors to one of the greatest and most powerful bodies of knaves and fools that ever were permitted to afflict this or any other country." But, underneath this physical and moral training, a mental education was also in progress. In rude and broken fashion Cobbett acquired the rudiments of learning, and the ability to read brought an intense craving for information to an unusually active in- tellect. The power of the inborn love of books and knowledge has rarely had a more striking example than when Cobbett, a tired plowboy, expended his WILLIAM COBBETT. 115 last pennies in purchasing the " Tale of a Tub," and went hungry to bed under a haystack after reading his dearly-bought treasure as long as daylight lasted. But when the gates of knowledge were once thrown open, Cobbett's restless energy broke forth, and he chafed sorely at the narrowness of rural existence. He sought his fortune in London, and, moved by his strong love of country, tried in vain to enter the navy, and later, with better success, enlisted in the army. For eight years he served as a soldier, rising by steadi- ness, sobriety, and application to the highest grade of non-commissioned officers. Neither hardship, incessant driU, low company, nor miserable pay could daunt his untiring industry. He perfected himself in gram- mar, made himself a master of his own language, and read many books. In the army, too, he obtained his first and most painful insight into the corruption, inefficiency, and favoritism which then degraded and disgraced every branch of the English service, civil and military. He gave in his own person the best proof of the low condition of affairs, for he gradually drew to himself all the various duties of administration pertaining to his superiors, who were too grossly ig- norant and incompetent to perform them. The sense of his own capacity thus acquired, mingled with con- tempt and indignation at the system which put his inferiors above him, turned him from a soldier into a reformer of vested abuses. At the end of eight years he resigned, returned to England, married, and pre- pared to put in execution, a long-deferred plan for the 116 STUDIES IN HISTORY. exposure and punishment of certain officers of high rank. His case was without a flaw ; but he knew little of the world, and still less of the power of the evil which he aimed to redress. He was put off, de- luded, and ill-treated, until his efforts for reform seem- ing only to promise his own ruin he fled to France, and abandoned his first assault in despair. From France, after a short sojourn, he emigrated to the United States, and in the year 1792 established himself at Wilmington, and soon after at Philadeljahia, as a teacher of English. The demand for such in- struction and the character of his pupils show curiously the condition of the time. His scholars were French ^migr^s, and Cobbett found himself in the midst of the_ agitation which the events in Paris had started in the United States. For some time he quietly at- tended to his work of teaching and translating, and wrote an English grammar for the use of Frenchmen, which, for practical purposes, has seldom been sur- passed. But, as the combat thickened, the innate love of fighting and the strong, conservative English hatred of the atrocities in Paris asserted themselves, and Cobbett rushed into the fray. Plis first theme was the reception given to Dr. Priestley on his arrival in New York. This pamphlet was entitled " Observa- tions on Dr. Priestley's Emigration," and was simply a powerful invective against the French Eevolution. " System-mongers," says Cobbett, " are an unreason- able species of mortals ; time, place, climate, Nature itself, must give way. They must have the same WILLIAM COBBETT. 117 governments in every quarter of the globe, when, perhaps, there are not two countries which can pos- sibly admit of the same form of government at the same time. . . . Even supposing his [Dr. Priestley's] intended plan of improvement had been the best in the world, the people of England had certainly a right to reject it. He claims, as an indubitable right, the right of thinking for others ; and yet he wiU not per- mit the people of England to think for themselves. ... If the English choose to remain slaves, bigots, and idolaters, as the Doctor calls them, that was no business of his ; he had nothing to do with them. He should have let them alone, and perhaps in due time the abuses of their government would have come to that ' natural termination ' which he trusts ' wiU guard against future abuses.' But no, said the Doctor,. ' I wiU reform you ; I wiU enlighten you ; I wUl make you free ! ' ' You shall not ! ' say the people. ' But I wUl ! ' says the Doctor. ' By ,' say the people, ' you shall not ! ' ' And when Ahithophel saw that his counsel was not followed, he saddled his ass, and arose, and got him home to his house and his city, and put his household in order, and hanged himself and died ; and was buried in the sepulchre of his fathers.^ " The argument might be illogical, but the pamphlet had an unmistakable power, and there could be no doubt at all as to the plain, nervous style, the simple English, and the robust sense of the writer. The sale of the pamphlet was immediate and large, and Cobbett's future course was open before him.. His 118 STUDIES IN HISTORY. peculiar fitness for rough conflict was obvious, and Ms career as a popular political controversialist began. Pamphlet followed pamphlet ; then came his reports of the doings of Congress, and finally " Porcupine's Gar zette." Thus Cobbett was fairly embarked upon the stormy sea of newspaper controversy. The field had been occupied first by the " Aurora," which under the guidance of Bache and Duane had for some time a monopoly of partisan attacks, and much the advan- tage of the defenders of the government, so far as the power of the press was concerned. All this was changed by the appearance of Cobbett. The ques- tion of revolution and anti-revolution principles had gradally resolved itself into the more concrete form of England and France, and the strict neutrality of the government had led to violent abuse of all the members of the administration, including Washing- ton, as partisans of the hated mother country. A bold man was needed to combat the popular prejudices, but Cobbett was fully equal to the emergency. He not only supported the administration measures, the neu- trality policy, and the Jay treaty, but he even dared to defend England as against France. The rage of the opposition thus confronted knew no bounds. Mobs and libel suits were among the rewards of the hardy Englishman ; but he also gained the support and coun- tenance of a powerful and energetic party among the ultra-Federalists, to whom he rendered efficient aid, al- though it must be admitted he ultimately injured their cause by his extreme opinions. In Cobbett the ga- WILLIAM COBBETT. 119 zettes of the Democracy and of the French sympathiz- ers found a foeman who overcame them with their own weapons, and in this wild turmoil the party press of the United States came into being. There is a com- mon and generally wholesome inclination in man to be laudator temporis acti, and this is especially strong in regard to a period which by the talents of the actors and the magnitude of their achievements is confessedly great, — as was in a marked degree the case with the United States in the years subsequent to the adoption of the Federal Constitution. But in respect to our newspaper press there has been a great and marked improvement. This applies, not merely to news and to the quality of writing, but still more to the general tone of discussion. The gazettes of Cobbett's time were wholly given over to political controversy of the most personal and savage kind. Abuse and scurrility are, unfortunately, not wanting to-day in our journals, and in certain semi-civilized regions of the South and ' West they probably do not fall far behind their pred- ecessors of 1795 in these undesirable qualities. But Cobbett and his adversaries wrote for and edited the metropolitan press of the time ; and it may be safely said that in no respectable newspaper in any large city now can such virulent and unmeasured vituperation be ' often found as was daily spread before the readers of the journals which attempted to guide public opinion in this country at the close of the last century and the beginning of this. Here, for instance, is a remark made upon one of Cobbett's early pamphlets: "Na- 120 STUDIES IN HISTORY. ture must have had the hysterics when you were born ; mastiffs howled, and owls sang anthems to congratu- late you into existence, and your jaws must have been furnished with indissoluble tusks, expressive of the disposition that was inspired within you." He was habitually denounced as a rogue, a deserter from the army, a thief, a forger, and a garret scribbler. Tar and feathers were frequently threatened in order to send him howling back to England, while a very fa^ vorite method of assault was to describe elaborately the whippings he had received. Even his wife was not spared in the general abuse but was mentioned in the plainest terms as one of the vilest of her sex. A constant charge was to the effect that he was a hire- ling of Pitt, and a receiver of British gold, — an ac- cusation which stung Cobbett to the quick, and led him to publish a careful and conclusive reply ; but he generally satisfied himself by counter-assaults. At the time of Randolph's trouble, and his so-called " vin- dication," Cobbett says of the Democrats : " They have had address sufficient to stir the mob to burn the greatest part of the Federal senators in ef&gy ; they have dared publicly and vilely to traduce the President of the United States ; their own president has been elected a member of the legislature of Penn- sylvania ; the legislature of Virginia has declared in their favor ; and a fresh importation of thieves and traitors from Ireland is daily expected to arrive. These are great and solid advantages." Here is an- other retort : " The enemies of the President of the WILLIAM COBBETT. 121 United States, and of tlie Federal government, pre- tend to be affronted that a man born in England should presume to say a civil thing of the character of George "Washington. The consistency of this will ap- pear when the public are assured that very few of the abusive scribblers who slander his reputation have ■■ one drop of American blood in their veins." He con- cluded in the following manner a prolonged contro- versy with his first publisher and other antagonists: " I now take leave of the Bradfords, and of all those who have written against me. People's opinions must now be made up concerning them and me. Those who stUl believe the lies that they have vomited forth against me are either too stupid or too perverse to merit further attention. I will, therefore, never write another word in reply to anything that is published about myself. Bark away, heU-hounds, until you are suffocated in your own foam ! Your labors are pre- served, bound up together in a piece of bear-skin with the hair on, and nailed up to a post in my shop, where whoever pleases may read them gratis." Cobbett was more than a match for his opponents individually and collectively. He was fully as coarse as they and much more original and racy, with a far better command of langiiage and no mean capacity for very teUing satire. He was, too, perfectly fearless and wholly unrestrained, either by the terrors of the mob or the law. It was a mere question of time, of course, how soon he got into the courts. The first attempt, stimulated by Chief Justice McKean, was made to in- 122 STUDIES IN HISTORY. diet him for a libel on Yrujo, the Spanish minister ; but the grand jury threw out the biU. Not long after, however, another attack was more successful. Dr. Rush advocated, during the prevalence of the yellow fever, the practice of unlimited bleeding, and Cobbett not only assailed him in his usual unmeasured fash- ion, but succeeded in making the worthy physician, who was then at the head of his profession in Philadel- phia, extremely ridiculous. Justly incensed. Dr. Rush brought an action of libel, and the jury awarded him damages to the amount of five thousand dollars. This and the expenses of the trial nearly ruined Cobbett, who took his departure for New York, reopened his shop, and attempted once more to start his gazette. He published also a newspaper entitled the " Rush- light," devoted to his controversy vnth the Doctor, which shows rather strikingly the interest that he and his affairs excited in the popidar mind. Nevertheless, the pecuniary blow and the defeat in the courts were too much for him, and in June, 1800, he returned to England. Mr. Smith, Cobbett's biographer, represents his hero as the champion of the liberty of the press in the' United States, and takes great exception also to the popular prejudice against him on account of his being an Englishman. Both the opinion and the criticism are unfounded and wrong. As to the first point, it should be remembered that mobs and libel suits were then the recognized method of meeting political attacks in the press, and on the only occasion when Cobbett WILLIAM COBBETT. 123 was actually brought before the courts on a political charge the jury threw out the bill. In the case of Dr. Kush the libel suit was perfectly proper, and would be so to-day ; and the fact that Cobbett was right on a point of medical practice, and the Doctor wrong, does not touch the question in the least. Broken windows and public prosecutions are rude methods of conduct- ing political discussions, but they were everywhere fashionable in the eighteenth century and were partic- ularly so in London. They certainly did not restrain Cobbett's freedom of speech materially, and he was but one of many who defied them, and paved the way for their disuse. Cobbett, indeed, suffered far less than his opponents ; and the scurrilous CaUender, who went to prison for his famous and abusive " Prospect before us," really endured much more than Cobbett in behalf of what Mr. Smith styles the " liberty of the Press." That Cobbett should have been disliked because he was an Englishman was, under the circumstances, not only natural but proper. No people with an ounce of self-respect care to be lectured daily by a foreigner about their own affairs ; and Cobbett not only did this, but he^ refused to be naturalized, and dinned into the public ear the fact that he was an Englishman, and proposed to remain so. This conduct rightly di- minished his influence, which was a misfortune to all, and especially to the party he supported and to which he proved, at times, a very dangerous ally. It is as a founder of our party press, and as an exponent of our party politics at a momentous period, that Cobbett ac- 124 STUDIES IN HISTORY. quires interest and importance as a figure in Amer- ican history, and not as the champion of free speech. The manner, matter, and method of his controversies are very striking and suggestive, and exhibit in a strong light the deep political enmities of the day and the crude forms of popular discussion then in vogue. That Cobbett rendered yeoman's service to a sound policy and a great administration in trying times entitles him to a sijecial debt of gratitude, and must always be unquestioned ; but it is much to be regretted that he acted throughout as an Englishman, and that the ablest newspaper support received by the Federalists was not above the reproach justlyj.eveled at the Democratic journals, that they were managed and edited by foreign adventurers. \ Cobbett turned his back on America with a heart full of bitterness, and with deep curses upon all Ee- publics, ancient and modern, and his reception in England, while it confirmed all these prejudices, did much to allay the smart of the losses to which he had been subjected in the United States. He found him- self welcomed by Mr. Pitt and by all the leaders of the Tory aristocracy. His services in alienating the United States from France, and in sustaining the Eng- lish cause, received prompt and hearty recognition, which so touched him that he enlisted at once under the Tory standard as one of the followers of the " heaven-born " statesman. It was an ill-assorted alli- ance, for except a hatred of Bonaparte and the French Revolution, Cobbett had nothing in common with the WTLLIAM COBBETT. 125 Tory aristocracy, and the combination of two such dis- cordant elements could not and did not last lono-. The peace of Amiens parted the slender ties, and Cob- bett drifted over to the Whigs, and finally settled down to what was his real work, — domestic reform. " The Political Eegister " became a power in the land, and in season and out of season Cobbett poured forth, in nervous English, one attack after the other upon the unreformed Parliament, the corrupt civil service, the waste and extravagance, the sinecures, the placemen, the game laws, and the income of the Church. Through that long and arduous struggle it would be impossible to follow him without tracing the history of England for the first thirty years of this century. The ultra-Federalist and conservative of America be- came the radical whose name was a by-word in Eng- land. He was fined and imprisoned by one Tory gov- ernment, he was driven into exile in the United States ' by another, and he was finally brought into court on a charge of libel by the Whigs. His life was one in- cessant conflict ; but the wonderful pluck of the man and his utter inability to recognize defeat came out after each struggle more vital than before. With each successive year he was reaching out farther among the people, and opening their eyes more and more to the oppression and misgovernment under which they labored. Leading articles in his newspaper, pam- phlets, books, letters, and addresses flowed from his pen, possessed apparently of an absolutely inexhaust- ible fertility. He spoke at last to the whole body of 126 STUDIES IN HISTORY. the English common people, not as a master, but as one in full sympathy, who had himself their thoughts and aspirations, who saw with their eyes and felt their burdens on his own shoulders. At last the triumph came. The reform for which Cobbett gave the ])rime of his life and powers was brought to pass in 1832 ; and its great champion, the man who had cried for it during the lifetime of a generation, was returned to the new Parliament. His career as a legislator was not distinguished. He was a patient and useful mem- ber, but he was too old to adapt himself to the new sphere. The late sittings and the confined life told upon his health, and three years after the "famous victory " he died. The seat in Parliament was a fit reward and an appropriate close to his labors, for his presence at Westminster, with his opinions unaltered, showed the change that had been wrought and the work that had been done in England, and they were due in large measure to the steady assaults of the Surrey plowboy. The most interesting lesson of this remarkable ca- reer, crowned as it was with such complete triumph, lies in the methods used by Cobbett, and the objects at which he aimed. Bitterly as he hated the French Revolution, he was himself an exponent of the social and political forces which gave it birth, and which ag- itated the whole western world. He was a leader in the great democratic movement which then began its rapid march, and which has been sweeping resistlessly onward ever since. The England of Cobbett's time WILLIAM COBBETT. 127 was the EHonian England, the paradise of the few as opposed to the well-being of the many; and the few very naturally and very wisely clung to their privi- leges, and offered a firm resistance to every change. They were formidable and determined adversaries, and they held their own against the current of the times for forty years. ijCobbett was the champion of the masses against the aristocracy. He was, moreover, sprung from the people, and he is one of the very few really great popular leaders of whom this can be said. The professional agitators and the fomenters of popu- lar discontent are, as a rule, men from the upper ranks, who have been rejected by their natural allies, and who are only too often vengeful, deceitful, and self-seeking. Cobbett was not only one of the class that he led, but what is far more extraordinary he was not a demagogue, but was from the beginning to the end wholly independent and perfectly disinterested. He never pandered to the people, he never stirred up their passions to serve his own ambition ; and he had also in ample measure the inborn conservatism of his ■race. He never advocated a change for its own sake, but was always able and ready to prove its practical ad- vantages. But his thoroughly English nature showed itself stiU more strongly in another way. He always de- clared that he not only admired and loved the British constitution, but that his one object was not to inno- vate but to reform. He aimed to bring back the gov- ernment to the original model and purpose from which it had gradually drifted. In other words, his theory 128 STUDIES IN HISTORY. was to restore the political fabric to its ancient form, and not to destroy what was old in order to replace it with something new. This theory is unquestionably a fiction historically. Reform was innovation. But the doctrine represents one of the soundest principles that any people can possess. "When the Long Parlia- ment, at open war with the king, stiU continued to use the phrase of " King and Parliament," and assailed " his majesty's evil counsellors " and not Charles Stu- art himself, they were indulging in what was pure fic- tion so far as facts went. But this clinging to usages and phrases and theories, this very contradiction be- tween words and deeds, typifies the slow temperament, the law-abiding and law-loving character, and the al- most blind attachment to precedent which prove the political wisdom of the race. These are the qualities which have made the English a great political and governing people, and which divide them from the nations of Europe ; and it was with this spirit that Cobbett was wholly filled. There never was a time when he would have admitted for an instant that he sought for something new. That the constitution had been distorted and abused, and that his object was simply to restore it to its primitive excellence and pu- rity, was not only his constant declaration but his rooted conviction ; and it was this belief which made his career honorable and his efforts successful. Cobbett's courage, patriotism, independence, and singleness of heart and purpose are obvious at a glance ; and so are his faults, for there is nothing in- tricate or subtle about the man. His low beginnings, WILLIAM COBBETT. 129 his half-education, his wonderful success, and the in- toxication of unbounded popular influence developed an egotism that was simply colossal. It is not oif en- sive, for it is so gigantic, so simple, and so apparent that no one can be angered by it. But, united as it was with a hot head and an impetuous disposition, it made Cobbett not only impracticable in the active management of affairs, but utterly unable to work with others. He quarreled with every one with whom he came in contact, whenever there was any question of leadership or difference of views. He would never sacrifice an opinion or alter a plan. " As Alexander he would reign, and he would reign alone." This inability to deal with his fellow-men warped his character and diminished his usefulness, or rather con- fined it to the one field where it was much better that he should act alone and upon his own unaided judg- ment. Lord Bailing, in his very clever sketch of Cobbett as the " contentious man," censures with great sever- ity his inconsistency, and his latest biographer deems it necessary to defend him from this charge. The accusation is a misconception, the defense superflu- ous. "When the Abb^ SieySs was asked what he did during the reign of terror, he replied, " J'ai v^cu," — ■ and the exploit was one of which any man might well be proud. To have been politically consistent in Eng- land during the era of the French Eevolution and the Napoleonic wars would be as great a boast ; and we 130 STUDIES IN HISTORY. have never wondered at Lord Eldon's delight when the mob cried out, " There 's old Eldon ! lie never ratted." Consistency at that period, besides being a doubtful virtue, was a great rarity ; and to a man like Cobbett it was a simple impossibility, — a fetter which would have hindered his movements and lessened his usefiilness, so that the want of it is no ground what- ever for reproach. He was always in the thickest of the fight, always tossing on the stormy seas of public opinion ; and he could not do otherwise than alter his course from time to time in order to attain his objects. At the same time he never lost sight of the beacon- light for which he steered ; he never trimmed his sail to secure personal benefits ; and in his devotion to what he believed to be the welfare of England and of the English people there was consistency of the best sort. The fate of his writings is in some ways peculiar. No author was ever more prolific or more widely read during liis lifetime, and yet everything that Cobbett published has passed into complete oblivion. His newspaper articles, his pamphlets, and his books are all alike unread and forgotten. This fact, however, is one which hardly needs explanation. Cobbett was not a literary man ; he was a political agitator, he wrote exclusively upon the topics of the day, and his pen was simply a weapon. His productions, therefore, have no present or permanent interest ; and if they had not been ephemeral, but had been composed for posterity, they would not have answered their pur- pose. In two respects, however, Cobbett's writings have and always will have a lasting value. They are WILLIAM COBBETT. 131 indispensable historical documents, for they throw a vivid light upon every passing event and upon every change of public opinion, and the history of the time cannot be written or understood without their aid. They have, besides, genuine literary merit. As a writer Cobbett belongs to the school of Swift, for whose " Tale of a Tub " he sacrificed his supper ; but he is far from being Swift's equal, for the Dean was a great genius and Cobbett was not. The pupil has neither the refinements of style nor the keenness of satire for which the master is stiU preeminent. But Cobbett possessed in ample measure Swift's simplicity of diction and strength of phrase, and he used pure Saxon to an extent and with a power which is well worth study at the present day. The great superior- ity of a plain nervous English style in argument of any sort, and above all in political controversy, al- though sufficiently demonstrated by the " Drapier's Letters," receives ample confirmation in the writings of Cobbett. Both Swift and Cobbett far surpass Junius, despite the pointed and poisoned sentences and the attractive mystery which has done so much for the anonymous writer. It is not, however, as an author that Cobbett wiU take his place in history. It is as the typical English- man of the revolutionary epoch, as the founder of the reform movement, as the friend of liberty and good government, and above aU as the true and thorough representative of the English common people in a time of great stress and trial, that he wiU be held in deserved remembrance. ALEXANDEE HAMILTON. " Okator, Writer, Soldier, Jurist, Financier," are the words engraved upon the monument in Boston raised to the memory of Alexander Hamilton. False as monumental inscriptions proverbially are, few per- sons would deny that Plamilton may justly claim dis- tinction under all the titles in this imposing list. How much and how high the distinction he attained in these several capacities are the only questions to be settled, but the answers may well tax severely the strongest and clearest judgment. Tradition says that in the bitterness of personal and political conflict one of Hamilton's chief enemies declared that " he never could see wha't there was in that little West Indian "; ^ while his other great opponent, possessing a far keener insight into human nature, pronounced him " really a Colossus to the anti-Republican party." ^ Public opin- ion to-day might not coincide exactly with either esti- mate, but would certainly more nearly approach the latter than the former. But with whatever views or with whatever prejudices one comes to the study of Hamilton's career, it is no easy matter to write his life. To analyze Hamilton's character is the simplest ^ Jolm Adams. 2 Thomas JefEerson : Letter to Madison, Works, vol. iv. p. 121. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 133 part of sueli an undertaking. His was not a com- plex nature, and like many great men, especially those of strongly masculine qualities, the mental lines are clear, direct, and easily followed. The first difficulty is to estimate his worth and the measure of his success in the many fields of human intelligence which he en- tered, for of all the leaders of our versatile people, no one except Franklin has displayed so much versatility as Hamilton. The ability to appreciate and properly criticise him, under all aspects and in all his varjing pursuits, demands a breadth of knowledge, a liberality of education, and a strength of mental grasp which are by no means common. Yet the second difficulty, which arises in considering Hamilton's outside rela- tions with the men and circumstances by which he was surrounded, is far greater than the first. Not only did Hamilton formulate and carry through a pol- icy which gave existence to ovxr government, and take a principal part against the opposition thus aroused, but his history fairly bristles with controversies and is inextricably interwoven with bitter personal quar- rels. No biographer has an easy task, but Mr. Morse has selected one of peculiar difficulty.^ The " Life of Hamilton," by his son, is but a fragment which stops short of the great period in his career ; and the sub- sequent work by the same author is not a life but a history, and one so detailed as to be useless except to specialists. There was nothing to be undone, and no * The Life of Alexander Hamilton. By John T. Morse, Jr. Boston, 1876. 134 STUDIES IN HISTORY. bad work to be clone over again. Mr. Morse, there- fore, had the advantage of a clear field in which there was no predecessor. To be so situated is fortunate, but the position is one which greatly increases respon- sibility. To err in an attempt to correct old errors is far better than to propagate wholly new ones. To fail in repairing work already done is a less evil than bad and insufficient construction where nothing has been accomplished. In the one case the matter can hardly be worse than it was before ; in the other errors are sown in fresh soil, and on the future historian devolves the disagreeable and difficult task of exposing and de- stroying them. To but few men has the power been given to write, in the highest sense of the words, a history at once scientific and popular ; and the same is true in a still greater degree, perhaps, of biographies. A few " Lives " have satisfied the demands of the student and historian as well as those of the general public, but they are landmarks in literature which occupy a great and singularly lonely eminence. Between the perfect and the whoUy bad there is of course a wide range, and perhaps in regard to some works time alone, not the contemporaneous critic, can decide whether they have or have not elements of permanent interest. Mr. Morse has given us a very readable and popu- lar " Life of Hamilton." This may be fairly conceded, and for this we are duly grateful. It is well that the life of such a man should be put into an accessible form. To write a purely popular book thoroughly ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 135 well, moreover, is by no means easy ; and yet to say even this of any new book is but scant praise, with which no author ought to be content. Mr. Morse cer- tainly would not be satisfied by such a kind of pat- ronage, for he has evidently tried to do much more than merely popularize. It is fairer and more profit- able to look at the book as a whole, without taking it up in detail, and without pretending to weigh out ap- plause here and blame there, or to make a cheap dis- play of knowledge by burrowing after blunders. We can best judge of Mr. Morse's work by briefly exam- ining the character and career of his hero. Hamilton's precocity was very striking, even in an age and country remarkable for precocious men. When only fourteen years old he conducted, in the absence of his employer, the complicated and quite extensive business of a West India merchant. At eighteen years, while stiU a college student, he wrote two of the most successful controversial political pam- phlets which appeared at a time when that form of agitation was used by the ablest men, and when there were not only vigorous enemies to be encountered, but eager and friendly rivals to be surpassed. At the same age he had the courage to address excited public meetings, and to restrain by cool arguments, at the risk of his life, the frenzies of the mob. It is very significant that a boy of that age, slight in stature, and a stranger in the land, should have been able, on such occasions, to speak successfully. But the hur- ried march of revolution quickly presented opportuni- 136 STUDIES IN HISTORY. ties more tempting to a man of his temperament than college studies or political controversy. He laid aside the pen to take up the sword, and, after a year of effi- cient service at the head of the company he had raised, was picked out by Washington to serve as his confidential aide. Even at that early period of their friendship, Washington employed Hamilton to draft many of his important letters, and intrusted him with most delicate and trying missions. Nothing, however, in the intercourse of these two men during the revo- lution, nothing indeed in all Hamilton's career, gives such a vivid idea of his intellectual power as his quarrel with Washington in 1781. The whole af- fair, properly considered, is a very striking one, al- though Mr. Morse apparently regards it merely as an obvious and trifling disagreement. Such it was on the surface ; but if examined carefully, with due regard to the characters of the particijoants, it is full of meaning. The quarrel has now become famous and its outlines are simple. The young aide kept his general waiting, or at least the latter thought so, and reproved him for his delay with some asperity. Whereupon the young gentleman drew himself up and said they must part. In explanation of his con- duct he wrote the well-known letter to Schuyler in which he expressed general disapproval of Washing- ton's personal address, manners, and temper. Wash- ington, on the other hand, made an immediate over- ture towards reconciliation, which was rejected by Hamilton, who, having at a subsequent period got ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 137 over his bad temper, applied to "Washington for as- sistance. Washington at once received him kindly, and their friendship was never again interrupted. What is the true explanation of this singular action ? Hamilton's part is easily accounted for. He was hot- tempered and self-asserting, and the tone of his letter, as well as the cold-blooded manner in which he used the pretext afforded by this trivial disagreement in order to quit what he chose to consider an inferior position, do not place him in a very amiable light. Washington's conduct is more difficult to understand. He had spoken sharply, as he had a perfect right to do, to a tardy aide-de-camp. Yet he put himself to some trouble and to some sacrifice of personal feeling to conciliate a proud, overbearing boy. The picture of Washington, before whose very glance so hardy a man as Gouverneur Morris is said to have shrunk away abashed, faced by an angry stripling whom he afterwards sought to appease, is an extraordinary one. Such a course seems to admit of but one solu- tion. Washington in this instance appears, not as the great man who sees and acknowledges a wrong, for he had committed none, but as the wise man who declines for a trivial gratification to drive a friend of force and ability into revolt. This view can add nothing to our admiration of Washington's judgment, but it is of value in appreciating the mastering power of Hamilton's mind at that early period, and there is no other incident which shows so clearly the im- pression he produced on his contemporaries. 138 STUDIES IN HISTORY. Mr. Morse has passed lightly over Hamilton's mili- tary career, aud in so doing has acted wisely. The revolutionary period is the most picturesque part of our history. Every actor in it is known, and every battle-field familiar. To describe Hamilton's mission to Gates, his conduct at Monmouth, his reception of D'Estaing, is not necessary. Nor need his biographer quote the vigorous yet pathetic descrijjtion of the flight of Arnold and the execution of Andr6, for this has become classic. Still less is it needful to detail the attack at Yorktown. Americans know well how Hamilton led his countrymen across the abattis and captured in nine minutes one of the British redoubts whose fellow occupied our French allies half an hour. The merest outline of Hamilton's military career is all- sufficient. His services and successes were those of an ardent young man, full of courage and ability ; but his zeal has induced many persons to greatly overestimate his love of military life. To a mind like his, strong, energetic, executive, and systematic, a military life of- fered many attractions. He displayed all the necessary qualifications of a soldier, and gave promise of becom- ing, if the opportunity occurred, a successful general ; but though his genius might have been forced by cir- cumstances into this channel, it would never have turned there naturally. This is obvious from the fact at no time during the war was utter absorption in mihtary affairs characteristic of Hamilton. The let- ters to Duane, written at that period, on the forma- tion of a stronger government, and the remarkable ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 139 essays on finance, addressed to Robert Morris, clearly show tlie bent of his mind. This army life had, how- ever, an important effect in strengthening his natural tendencies. The miserable discussions and ever-in- creasing impotence of Congress, its unworthy cabals against Washington, and its failure to perform its highest duties, all of which bore most hardly on the army, and were there most felt, filled Hamilton with a reasonable distrust and hatred of all weak popular governments. His efforts, while in Congress, in 1782- 83, to provide for the debt, to pay off the soldiers, to secure proper garrisons by a new army, and to make public the debates of Congress, all proved fruitless, and served to deepen his already strong convictions. All his struggles came to nothing, and tliis drove him back from the hopeless task of legislation to the more congenial and profitable pursuit of his profes- sion, which for the next five years he assiduously practiced. He had been admitted to the bar after a very hasty and necessarily inadequate preparation, but his great powers of acquisition and his eloquence raised him at once to eminence as a lawyer, and made him strong both with bench and jury. Hamil- ton's mind adapted itself readily to law. To say how good a common lawyer he was is at this day impossible, if one is obliged to rely solely on the ar- guments which have been preserved. These are too few in number to warrant a conclusion, but the ques- tion of contemporary opinion is easily settled. His success was immediate and brilliant, and from the 140 STUDIES IN HISTORY. causes wtich lie conducted it is clear that the first rank was conceded to him both by the profession and by the public. No one can say whether he was learned in the law, a scholar versed in the authori- ties ; from his speedy preparation and the immediate rush of professional duties, the inference would be that he was not. He possessed, however, what is far more important in estimating his legal powers, the capacity in a high degree for pure, original, and sus- tained legal thought, and this is proved beyond a per- adventure. If any one wishes to test this statement, let him study the numerous state jDapers in which Hamilton was called upon to deal with questions of international law. There is in them much learning, but, what is of infinitely more importance, there is the creative power, the evidence of a mind able not only to develop principles, but to apply them to facts. Still better proof is afforded by his discussion of points of constitutional law, the best examjjle of which is to be found in his argument on the National Bank,^ which can be submitted to the most severe of all tests, a close comparison with one of Marshall's. Let Ham- ilton's argument be read and then the decision in Mc- CuUoch vs Maryland.^ This is not the place to dis- cuss the constitutionality of that famous measure, but as a piece of legal reasoning the argument of the Sec- retary does not suffer when put side by side with the luminous decision of the Chief Justice. Mr. Webster 1 Hamilton's Works, vol. iii. p. lOG. s 4 Wheaton, p. 316. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 141 once said that when Marshall extended his forefinger and began, " It is conceded," he saw in anticipa- tion aU his favorite arguments falling helplessly to the ground. Hamilton produces the same sensation. If any one cares to try the experiment, in order to understand Marshall's greatness, let him endeavor to condense or confute one of his decisions. If any one doubts that Hamilton was a great lawyer, let him try the same experiment on his arguments. Success is no doubt possible in both cases ; but I am sure that in either attempt a fair-minded man will become con- vinced of the greatness of his opponent. I am very far from meaning by this that Hamilton was the equal of Marshall as a lawyer, for I am aware of no one who has rivaled the Chief Justice ; but that Hamilton was a great lawyer, and possessed a legal mind of the first order, is an opinion that admits of proof. Toward the close of this first period of professional life Hamilton served in the New York Legislature, and the same ill success attended his efforts for better government there, as in Congress. At last, however, his exertions for a convention met with a response. He attended the preliminary meeting held at Annapo- lis, and drew up the address then issued, calling a convention of all the States at Philadelphia, and with great difficulty secured afterwards the ai^pointment of representatives from New York to the constitutional convention. This delegation, of which he was a mem- ber, was so composed as to render him powerless, both his colleagues, Yates and Lansing, being Clintonians, 142 STUDIES IN HISTORY. and strong state-rights men. Hamilton's position in the convention was, therefore, a wholly anomalous one, for the vote of his State was sure to be cast against every measure he favored. Mr. Morse has rightly described Hamilton's course in the convention as a purely independent one, and has not sought to make his efforts there the foundation of his reputa,tion as the great supporter of the Constitution. Hamilton presented a plan differing from both those before the convention, and then withdrew, leaving his suggestions and arguments to do what good they might. His j)lan differed from the one finally adopted in only two essen- tial particulars, — a Senate and President during good behavior, and the appointment of state governors by the central government. He returned to the conven- tion only at its close, to use his personal influence in favor of the acceptance of the final draft. Hamilton's subsequent efforts to secure the adojition of the Consti- tution form his chief and truest claim to glory in this respect. Discussion of the merits or effects of the re- markable series of papers known as the " Federalist " would be superfluous. The greatest legal minds have set the seal of their approbation upon them ; and in modern times, in the formation of a great empire, statesmen have turned to them and to their principal author as the preeminent authority on the subject of federation. The effect of these remarkable essays, in converting and forming public opinion, can hardly be overestimated ; but Hamilton's most unalloyed tri- umph at this time, and one of the most brilliant of his ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 143 life, was his victory in the New York convention held to ratify the Constitution. Entering that convention in a small minority, faced by determined opponents led by men of first-rate ability, Hamilton ended by securing the adhesion of New York, — a matter at that time of vital importance to the new scheme. His speeches on this occasion afford an excellent insight into his mind, and enable the reader to understand his powers as an orator. One looks in vain in all he then said for those brilliant similes and those flights of the imagination which usually characterize oratory. No- where is there to be found an appeal to the emotions ; there is not one passage intended to sway the hearts of men rather than their judgments. It is all pure rea- soning and argument. And yet no one can read these speeches and not feel the mastering force of the great orator. How much more powerful must they have been to those who heard them, who could feel the in- fluence of the earnest nature, who could see the light in the dark, deep-set eyes, and catch fire from the fer- vid temperament of him who so reasoned with them ! It was the eloquence of reasoning, of arguments ad- dressed to men's sober second thoughts, of demonstra- tion of error and of tlie support of truth. In this most difficult path Hamilton succeeded. His speeches bore the severest of all tests, and passed triumphantly through the ordeal. It is almost a proverb that a measure is rarely carried by a speech ; Hamilton not only won over votes, but actually converted a hostile majority into a favorable one. Unaided by popular 144 STUDIES IN HISTORY. outcry, in a State wliere, on his own showing, four sevenths of the peoiDle were against him, by the strength of his arguments, by the splendor of his reasoning, he brought his opponents to his feet, con- fessing that he was right and they wrong. The long annals of English debate have few such purely intel- lectual triumphs to show. With the victory in the New York convention the first period of Hamilton's life closes. Rich as it was in results, it was still riclier in promise. To the second period belong the fruits of that promise, which have given Hamilton a place among the great men of his age and nation, and also the errors, the sometimes fatal errors, which marred the results of his achieve- ments. To enter into an examination of Plamilton's course during this time, even were it as brief as that given to his early years, would be to write a history of the Federalist administrations. Criticism, therefore, must here be confined to the most salient features of the picture, in which two points stand out with great prominence ; for they are the dramatic points in this period of Hamilton's life. I refer, of course, to the financial policy which gave existence to the government and created a great party in its support, and to the conduct which resulted in the ruin of the Federalists. Before entering upon this discussion it becomes neces- sary to say a few words as to the condition of affairs with which the new government was called to deal, and also upon the component parts of the administration. The revolution, like all wars, especially all civil ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 145 wars, had unsettled society, and had given a great shock to political habits. In this instance it had done even more, by destroying one of the principal ele- ments of society. { The aristocratic, wealthy, and con- servative class had been almost entirely swept away. The American Tories, who had formed a large por- tion of this class, had either emigrated or had with- drawn silently into obscurity to avoid public reproach and escape the mortification of being made to feel that their influence was utterly gone. One of the balance-wheels of society and politics had thus been destroyed and there had not been as yet sufficient time to replace it. ( The new democracy was moving along its destined path, but it had no checks ; it lacked cohe- sion, and there was great danger that the victory of freedom would be lost in the anarchy of jarring states and by the destruction of the union on which national existence depended. Washington, Hamilton, and a few others here and there, had striven, apparently in vain, to stem the flood. But natural forces, stronger than any efforts individuals could make, were slow but sure allies, and in their operation made the Constitu- tion a possibility. Time, of course, gave opportunity for the gradual re-formation of the conservative ele- ments. New men who had acquired wealth, the rem- nants of the old Tory families, and intelligent and able men everywhere, now relieved from the stress of war,T)egan again to come forward and to make their influence felt. This was, however, a very slow process, and alone would have been insufficient to produce a 10 146 STUDIES IN HISTORY. change. Something stronger was needed, or the new conservatism would have perished in a gener;il wreck. The requisite pressure came, however, very readily. Affairs under the confederation went on steadily from bad to worse. Congress sank into a state of hopeless decrepitude, and their committee appointed to take charge of the nation forsook its post and left the United States for more than six months at a time without any Federal head. The finances went utterly to rack and ruin. All the States, with few exeei)tions, engaged actively in the work of wholesale repudiation. Disintegration set in. The large States, in almost every instance, were threatened with dismemberment ; and the smaller States contemplated withdrawal from the old confederation in order to form new ones. In Europe our position was pitiable and humiliating to the last degTce. We had become a by-word and re- proach in every mercantile community. Pitt refused to treat with us. Vergennes spoke of us with undis- guised contempt ; and all the Continental joowers looked forward exultingly to our speedy ruin. Mat- ters did not stop here. Disorder and repudiation were followed by general license and an outbreak of the communistic spirit. Insurrections began in vari- ous parts of the country, and finally culminated in the Shays Eebellion, in Massachusetts, which threatened extinction to such national government as still sur- vived. Such a condition of affairs produced a violent reaction,' which resulted in the adoption of the Con- stitution and the setting in motion of the new political ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 147 machinery. The experiment was to be made while the enemies of a strong central government were awedjinto silence by the disorders which had menaced the national life. ^The men who, afterwards, formed the Federalist party had achieved a victory, and made an attempt at government possible, but they entered upon their task while still a minority. Washington was elected to the presidency as the choice of the whole people, and his wish was to govern in this sense and not as the leader of a party. With this desire he called to his administration the ablest men representing the opposing political elements. In short, Washington determined to try once more with a people of English race and a representative govern- ment the experiment of administration independent of party. In point of talent no such cabinet has ever been formed in this country, although the ability was chiefly confined to two men : the Secretaries of State and of the Treasury. Knox, the Secretary of War, was by no means the fool described by Jefferson, but he was not certainly a great statesman. A brave sol- dier, an honest and rather commonplace man, Knox is chiefly to be praised for the sense and fidelity with which he followed the lead of Hamilton and eschewed the counsels of Jefferson. Randolph, the Attorney General, was an abler man than Knox, but is very far from deserving the same amount of praise. He proved himself both vacillating and selfish, and although regarded by Hamilton as the blind follower of Jef- ferson, he was, nevertheless, a constant source of anx- 148 STUDIES IN HISTORY. iety to the latter, who could never depend upon him. False to his supposed leader at this time, he subse- quently betrayed his official trust and was unfaithful to ^Vashiugton himself. Around the two principal secretaries gathered gradually the opposing political forces of the country. Except that they were both men of genius, two more totally different characters than the Secretary of State and the Secretary of the Treasury can hardly be conceived. Jefferson was a sentimentalist ; a great man no doubt, but still a sen- timentalist pure and simple. Plis colleague and op- ponent was the very reverse. Hamilton reasoned on everything, and addressed himself to the reason of mankind for his support. Jefferson rarely reasoned about anything, but appealed to men's emotions, to their passions, impulses, and prejudices, for sympathy and admiration. ,1 Hamilton, in common with aU the leaders of his party, was, in practice, a poor judge of human nature ;, when he failed to convince he tried to control. Jefferson knew human nature, especially American human nature, j^ractically, as no other man in this country has ever known it. He never con- vinced, he managed men ; by every device, by every artifice and stage effect, by anything that could stir the emotions, he appealed to the people. As he was the first, so was he the greatest of our party leaders, and in this capacity no one has ever approached him. Hamilton was consistent, strong, masculine, and log- ical. Jefferson was inconsistent, supple, feminine, and illogical to the last degree. Yet these were the two ALEXAXDER nAMILTON. 149 men whom Washington had joined with himself to eondnct in harmony the administration of a represen- tative government. That Washington, like William III., failed ultimately imder such circumstances to carry on a non-partisan administration, is merely to say that he could not overcome the impossible. That he succeeded for four years in his attempt is simply amazing. If the violent extremes of thought and character represented by Hamilton and Jefferson be fairly considered and contrasted, and if it then be re- membered that Washing-ton held them together and made them work for the same ends and for the general good of the nation during four years, a conception of Washington's strength of mind and character is pro- duced which no other single act of his life can give. Under such circumstances, and with an administra- tion so constituted, the people of America began their experiment. Gouverneur ]\Iorris had said in a letter to Jay many years before : '" Finance, my friend ; the whole of what remains of the American Eevolution grounds there." ^ So it might now have been said that the whole of what was to be the American Union grounded there. The bane of the Confederation, the power which tumbled that weak structure to the gound, was finance, and it was the pivot on which the future of the country turned. To Hamilton, of course, fell the duty of shaping, or rather of creating, a finan- cial policy ; and upon him was laid the bm-den of giv- ing tangible existence to a government which as yet ^ Sparks's Life of Gouverneur -lorris, vol. i. p. 234. 150 STUDIES IN HISTORY. existed onlj' on paper. The Secretary grappled fear- lessly \vitli the great problem before him, and the ap- pearance of his first report was the dawn of a new era in American history. That policy, which will make its author famous as long as the history of this country survives, was divided into three parts: the payment of the foreign debt, the payment of the do- mestic debt, and the assumption of the state debts. The necessity of paying the foreign debt was conceded by all, and duly provided for. On the second point great dissension arose. The extremists in opposition were not in favor of paying the domestic debt in full j the more moderate were in favor of discrimination among the holders of the certificates, — a proposition absurd in itself, and which involved an absolute con- tradiction of the very theory advanced. After a pro- longed struggle this measure was also carried. Then came the tug of war, — the assumption of the state debts. In the second question the opposition had not a show of reason to support their views, but on the state debts two oi:)inions were possible. Hamilton argued, " that it was a measure of sound policy and substantial justice," because " it would contribute, in an eminent degree, to an orderly, stable, and satisfac- tory arrangement of the national finances. Admitting, as ought to be the case, that a provision must be made, in some way or other, for the entire debt, it will follow that no greater revenues will be required, whether that provision be made wholly by the United States, or partly by them and partly by the States separ rately." ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 151 " The principal question then must be, whether such a provision cannot be more conveniently and effect- ually made, by one general plan, issuing from one au- thority, than by different plans, originating in different authorities ? In the first case there can be no competi- tion for resources ; in the last there must be such a competition." ' A vivid picture of the disasters and troubles vsrhich such a competition of resources would inevitably cause follows, but unfortunately this vigorous passage is too long for quotation. The report then continues : — " If all the public creditors receive their dues from one source, distributed with an equal hand, their inter- est will be the same. And having the same interests they will unite in the support of the fiscal arrange- ments of the government, — as these too can be made with more convenience where there is no competi- tion." " If, on the contrary, there are distinct provisions, there will be distinct interests, drawing different ways. That union and concert of views, among the creditors, which in every government is of great importance to their security, and to that of public credit, will not only not exist, but will be likely to give place to mutual jealousy and opposition. And from this cause the op- eration of the systems which may be adopted, both by the particular States and by the Union, with rela- tion to their respective debts, will be in danger of be- ing counteracted." Proof is then offered that the state creditors would be in a worse position than 152 STUDIES IN HISTORY. tliose of the Union, and the ijijiirious effects of this pointed out. The debts of the Stales are shown to be of the same nature as those of the Union, and this portion of the report concludes with a plan for as- sumption.i The opjiosition were not convinced, and the jiai'ties came to a dead-loek. Hamilton was driven to desperate measures. lie had failed to convince, he could not con- trol, he was unable to manage ; there was but one es- ca^oe, — he negotiated. Jefferson was called to the res- cue, and Hamilton arrauged with him that the debts should be assumed, and the capital in return be placed on the Potomac. This arrangement was simply a trade in which one measure was bargained off against another. Hamilton gave up something for which he did not care a jot and by so doing secured the neces- sary number of Southern votes. There is no evidence that Hamilton regarded it in any other way, and he maintained complete silence on the subject, apparently thinking the matter too obvious to require explanation, and being unwilling probably to say anything about his friends in Congress who by changing their votes had made the bargain possible. The other party to the contract has left us a full account. Jefferson, hav- ing gratified his local prejudices in regard to the capi- tal, and having made his trade successfully, endeavored subsequently to escape from responsibility. In order to do this he raised a cloud of falsehood, and excused himself on the ground, unparalleled for its cool aaid 1 Hamilton's Works, vol. iii. pp. 13-17. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 153 consummate audacity, that he had been duped by Hamilton. The financial policy was thus complete. My inten- tion is not to discuss its merits as a scheme of finance, nor to endeavor to criticise it as a funding system, but simply to treat it as a great state policj\ No reason- able man would now dispute the first two propositions as to the foreign and domestic debts, but on the as- sumption of the state debts opinions have differed. It has been urged that as a whole it was too strong a policy, that it endangered the existence of the govern- ment and of the Federalist party. Those persons who argue in this way forget that there was no government and no party until this policy gave them both exist- ence. If it be said that it endangered the success of the new scheme, the only reply is that a scheme too weak to stand such a strain was a worthless one. "Weak, time-serving policy had well-nigh ruined Amer- ica, and the time had come when a most vigorous and energetic one could alone save the Union. Putting aside for a moment the first two divisions, can it be fairly supposed that the policy would have been better without assumption ? To most persons at the present day, the arguments of Hamilton, already cited, are ab- solutely convincing. AYithout assumption, disintegrar tion and consequent anarchy were probable, trouble and disaster certain. The great merit of the scheme was in its cohesive force, and this of itself is overwhelm- ing. Mutilated in this respect, the policy would have effected comparatively little, and would have been 154 STUDIES IN HISTORY. shorn of its most essential part. But it is folly to at- tempt to multiply arguments. In a field where Ham- ilton has gathered, few men can find much to glean. The means, by which the measure of assumption was carried and the plans of the treasury completed, have been criticised; but it is not easy to see why men were not justified in abandoning the site of a capital in order to save a great financial policy. The sacri- fice made by Hamilton's friends at least involved no principle, for the situation of the capital was a mere question of expediency. Jefferson's friends, if we put the worst construction on it, gave up a principle in order to obtain the national capital for the South but they might fairly say, on the other hand, that they acted in the interests of harmony and to strengthen the new government. The great question was settled by a trade and it is better to call the solution which was reached by its right name. It was not a com- promise, as Jefferson termed it ; it was a bargain and sale, the deliberate trading of one measure for an- other. But the policy, as such, was none the less great; and despite the railings of Hamilton's enemies, then and now, the great achievement of his life has earned the gratitude of the American people, for noth- ing can detract from the bold creative genius and the manly energy which made national existence a possi- bility. The work of Hamilton bore the test of immediate trial, and its success was brilliant. The Constitution was not destroyed but strengthened, the government ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 155 was converted from a dream to a reality, and a great party was called into being. In discussing the merits of this policy as a scheme of finance, it can at most be said that Hamilton himself might have improved it. It cannot be urged that there was any other scheme then presented, or any objections then brought for- ward of the least weight. Jefferson's criticisms would disgrace a modern school-boy, and indicate a profun- dity of ignorance of which he can hardly be conceived capable. (Madison opposed the policy because he was a Virginian, and wished to remain in public life ; and the result was that the emanations of his mind, usually so lucid and powerful, are on this subject confused to the last degree. If Hamilton erred in details, it can be proved in but one way, from his own utterances, as- sisted by the advances of a century of progress. Such measures, while they were certain to rally a powerful paTty to their support, were equally certain to arouse a violent opposition. Very unfortunately, the opponents of Hamilton were incapable of offering any reasonable opposition to his measures, and this drove them to attack him personally, and on the score of honor and character. Even more unfortunate was the fact that the leader of such an opposition was Hamilton's colleague in the cabinet. The inevitable explosion followed. One secretary rewarded a versi- fier and hack-writer by a government place, and then aided and abetted his subordinate in an attack on his colleague. ; The other secretary rushed timself into the arena, descended into the newspapers, with scarcely 156 STUDIES IN HISTORY. the poor excuse of self-defense, to deface and tear to pieces the character of the prime minister of the very- administration of which ho was himself a member. This quarrel and the manner in which it was con- ducted does not present a creditable or pleasing pic- ture. After such a broil, there could, of course, be no real or lasting peace, and the cabinet soon broke up. The rest of Hamilton's official life was dignified and honorable. He had created and carried into operation the National Bank, at that time an essential and use- ful measure, and devoted himself to perfecting the or- ganization and directing the policy which he had orig- inated. The latter portion of the secretaryship would be pleasant to dwell upon. To describe the attack made b}' the blatant Giles, backed secretly by Madi- son and Jefferson, and the sudden and energetic man- ner in which Hamilton turned upon the wretched tool and crushed him, would be to describe a very dra- matic incident. Many morals useful at the present day also might be drawn from this proceeding. There was no chicanery, no abuse of the accusers, no attempt to divert attention from the real issue. On the con- trary, Hamilton told every detail, and by almost su- perhuman efforts laid bare in two weeks his whole career as secretary. Strong in his integrity and dig- nified in his virtue, he not only met every charge, but repeatedly demanded fresh investigations from those who had crushed themselves in attacking him. To dwell upon his last days in office, and the sincere re- grets of "Washington and the Federalist party at his ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 157 resignation, would be still pleasanter. But all this must be passed over, as well as those years of active professional life during whicli Washington still turned to his former secretary for counsel and advice, still asked him to draft his messages, to advise the cabi- net, and to give his powerful support. We must come at once to the second great event in Hamilton's ca- reer : the downfall of his party. The Federalist party was a very remarkable politi- cal organization. For twelve years it not only carried out a strong policy, but it succeeded in raising up around our constitutional liberties barriers so strong that when the great tide of democracy set in with the election of Jefferson, it was confined by certain limits which it could not destroy. In short, the Federalists had made disintegration so difficult as to be for many years practically impossible. Yet the men who accom- plished all this were never, except during the excite- ment against France, in sympathy with the majority of their countrymen. They succeeded in holding their own by sheer weight of ability. /^With the exception of Jefferson, Gallatin, and Madison, the last of whom cannot be fairly numbered with either party, the Fed- eralists comprised all the able men in the countryi* Washington, Marshall, Hamilton, and John Adams are alone enough to justify all that can be said on the score of ability. But when it is considered that the second rank was filled by such men as Jay, Gouver- neur Morris, Rufus King, Ames, Sedgwick, Pickering, Cabot, Wolcott, Ellsworth, Dexter, Dana, Strong, and 158 STUDIES IN HISTORY. the two Pinckneys, to go no farther, the combination must have been one of irresistible power. By their intellectual supremacy they carried one strong meas- ure after another against great odds, and forced the people into the strait and narrow path Nvhich led to an honorable and prosperous future. But with all their strength and all their ability there was one condition, and that a very delicate one, on which their whole success depended, i So long as all moved in harmony they could always defy a Democratic majority ; but the instant perfect unison was lost, ruin became inevita- ble. So long as Washington remained in the presi- dency, the Federalists were safe. His unquestioned greatness formed a bulwark against which no one was willing to dash himself, and every one stood in awe of his personal character ; but the withdrawal of Wash- ington severed this bond, and in the nature of things the dissolution of the Federalists could have been averted only by the most consummate tact, the most delicate consideration and much mutual forbearance on the part of the leaders. After the retirement of Washing- ton, however, the Federalists were not even so far for- tunate as to have an undisputed chief. ' There were two men, neither of whom claimed leadership, but each of whom considered himself its indisputable possessor.) Unhappily, also, both were to a certain extent right. Adams was the leader of the party dejure; Hamilton, de facto. Neither considered the other's claims, or apparently admitted that he had any. ' It is perfectly clear that Adams's only proper course was to unite ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 159 Hamilton to himself by the strongest tie. ; He had been elected by a party ; he represented that party and their policy ; he was bound by every rule of common- sense to hold his party together by all honorable means. The one necessary quality was tact, or rather the most consummate address, and this John Adams did not possess. It was perfectly possible to manage Hamilton ; he was by no means an unmanageable or unreasonable man when properly treated^ Washington had already managed him with j)erfect success. Tact, good judgment, consideration, and a certain amount of deference were required, and all might have gone weU^ But it never occurred to Adams that this was necessary, or that he alone was not quite competent to control the Federal party. A more fatal blunder was never committed. Whatever Hamilton's merits or de- fects may have been, it is certain, as a matter of fact, that to attempt to guide the Federal party without at least his tacit approval was an impossibility. / Ham- ilton's true course was equally obvious. Occupying the position he did, he was clearly at liberty to offer frankly his suggestions to the President. If these suggestions were rejected, then he ought either to have held his tongue, or, if the worst came to the worst, have gone into open opposition. Hamilton did neither.^ As Adams had a theory that he could con- trol the party unassisted, so Hamilton had a theory that he could control Adams. In pursuit of this theory he committed a blunder as fatal as Adams com- mitted in the pursuit of his. He undertook to man- 160 STUDIES IN HISTORY. age Adams through the medium of the party and the cabinet. The situation was still further complicated by the character of Timothy Pickering, the Secretary of State, who, although in general sympathy with Hamilton, nevertheless aspired, after his own fashion, to lead the party himself, was utterly unmanageable, and was bent upon coercing the President. With both the leaders of the party hopelessly committed to radical errors, and with the cabinet and the President contending for supremacy, the new administration opened. There is nothing in the whole province of history so disagreeable or so generally wortliless as personal quarrels. In "this case one is reluctantly brought to the distasteful task of following the outlines of such a quarrel, because personal animosities were the sole cause of the premature ruin of a great party. I have tried to indicate the fatal theories to which both Ham- ilton and Adams were wedded ; it merely remains to point out some of the worst results. Even before the election, trouble had arisen. Ham- ilton's chief desire was to defeat Jefferson for the vice- presidency ; he held, and rightly, that this could be effected in but one way, — by casting all the Federal votes equally for the two Federal candidates, Adams and Pinckney, The danger of this course was, that Pinckney, the second choice, might be brought in over Adams who was the first choice. This risk Hamilton was perfectly ready to take, and made no secret that, to him personaUy, such a result would have been ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 161 agreeable. (There is not a scintilla of evidence that he ever intended to do more. He has been charged with bad faith, but it is a perfectly groundless charge. He never pretended that the election of Pinckney would displease him, but he never intrigued with a view to defeat Adams. The accusation was freely made at the time by the friends of Adams, and denied by those of Hamilton. The publication of the private letters of all parties has sustained fully the denial. Adams, naturally enough, however, took gTcat umbrage. With perfectly human inconsistency he was angry because Hamilton did, in 1796, what eight years before he had abused him for not doing. The Adams men, how- ever, threw away their votes, and Jefferson, as Ham- ilton had anticipated, secured in consequence the vice- presidency. Temporarily this cloud passed away, and for some time things went smoothly. At last came the alarm of war with France, and "Washington was called upon to take command of the provisional army. He accepted the call on condition that the general offi- cers should not be appointed without his consent, and to this condition the President acceded. "Washington made up his mind that, in the formation of the new army, the only proper and sensible course was to pro- ceed entirely de novo, without any reference to the old army. He hesitated for some time as to whether Hamilton or Pinckney should be second in command ; while from the beginning he considered Knox unfit to be next himself. In favor of Pinckney were political considerations of his weight and influence, since the 11 162 STUDIES IN HISTORY. seat of war would probably have been in the Southern States. In favor of Hamilton were greater abilities, his own prefurenee, and that of the Federal leaders. The latter considerations prevailed, and he sent in Hamilton's name at the head of the list. The Presi- dent sent it back with the order unchanged to the Senate, and the commissions were all dated the same day. The President then, Knox being dissatisfied, suddenly changed his mind, and put Knox first. Washington objected and wrote a letter, which could hardly have been pleasant reading for the President, who thereupon gave way. Hamilton's friends had written to Washington at the outset urging his claims, as they had an undoubted right to do, and they wrote again in great alarm when the President changed his mind. Adams gave as his reason that he thought Knox legally entitled. Washington had rejected this theory from the beginning ; and, at the very time when it was put forward, Adams was making other appointments which directly contravened his own rule. In describing this affair I have regarded notliing but the original letters from all parties, and have based my account so far as possible on the letter detailing the whole business from Washington,^ whose sense and veracity no one can have any inclination to dis- pute. The most that can be said against Hamilton in this affair is, that he wrote a letter, in a tone some- what disagreeably self -asserting, urging his own claims on Washing-ton. Upon Adams must fall the whole 1 Washinyton's Writings, vol. xi. p. 304. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 163 blame for precipitating a quarrel on this point. The reason he gave for his action was perfectly untenable ; and it is hard to see that he was actuated by anything except a dislike and dread of Hamilton. This diffi- culty, at any rate, made all parties bitter and suspi- cious. Hamilton and his friends began to see that they could not control the President, and to suspect that he meant to destroy them and break them down, while Adams, smarting under a sense of defeat, be- came suspicious of intrigues to control him, which cer- tainly existed, although not in this particular case. The~quarrel engendered by this rash and mistaken action on the part of the President soon broke forth again with tenfold force. It has been said that things went smoothly at first, a piece of good fortune which arose from the fact that Adams and Hamilton both favored the same policy, thus making an irresistible combination, against the power of which the cabinet struggled in utter helplessness,; and furnishing, uncon- sciously, the strongest proof of the absolute neces- sity of that union which overweening self-confidence caused both the Federal leaders to reject,) In the great excitement attendant on the indignation against France, the Federal party received general support; and, for the only time in their history, found them- selves masters of a complete majority, which, with the war fever, seems to have turned their heads. They proceeded, unchecked, to great extremes. Their prin- cipal mistake was the passage of the Alien and Sedi- tion Acts. The idea conveyed by Mr. Morse that 164 STUDIES IN HISTORY. Hamilton opposed these measures is quite erroneous, since, as a matter of fact, he was one of their strong- est supporters. 1 The mistake has arisen from a too hasty reading of Hamilton's urgent letter to Wol- cott, which was really directed against the first_draft_ of the Sedition Act, — a most outrageous proposal, which no man in his senses would have supported, and which was substantially rejected. All the Feder- alists alike are responsible for the measures actually .adopted, which subsequently told so heavily against them. \ They were errors due to the dogmatic^ char- acter of the Federalist leaders, and theix^ ignorance of the popular nature. ; (All cooperated very heartily in the war measures, but Adams was the first to see the honorable opportunity for making peace. True to the policy of Washington, true to the best interests of the country, to his lasting honor he saw the right and pursued it.^j It was the greatest act of Adams's life, and is alone sufficient to stamp him as a truly great man. At a very similar juncture Washington had carried through the Jay treaty, and brought his party out from the ordeal more united than before. Lack of tact again proved Adams's stumbling-block ; and though he carried through as bravely and cour- ageously as Washington the same true policy, without a thought for himself or the hazards of the imdertak- ing, he did it in such an unfortunate manner as to bring his party out of the struggle rent with dissen- sions. Hamilton was not bent on war at all events, 1 Hamilton's Works, vol. vi. p. 387. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 165 but he was much less ready to seize the first chance for .peace than Adams. By no means so violent against the proposed peace-commission as his less able friends, he yet opposed and strove to delay the departure of the envoys. He even tried, personally, to change the President's opinions ; but Adams was too clearly in the right and too perfectly conscious of his own recti- tude to think of yielding. The commission was sent, the country was saved from a useless and destructive war, but the Federal party was ruined. Adams's con- duct in neglecting Hamilton, and in the affair of the generals, had been the first stroke ; butOt was reserved to Hamilton and his friends to deal the death-blow to the partyT) Adams, justly indignant with the course of his secretaries, dismissed Pickering and McHenry ; and Hamilton, on the eve of the election, published his famous attack on Adams. This was the great _error_of_his public life. ( He assailed the President bitterly and wound up by advising everybody to vote for him, a most impotent conclusion. Blinded by pas- sion, Hamilton had ruined Adams and the party together, and was destined, before reason returned, to leave a blot on his own fame which cannot be effaced. This was the proposal to Jay to convene the actual legislature of New York in extra session, change the electoral law, and take the choice of electors out of the hands of the legislature elect. A more high- handed and unscrupulous suggestion it would be diffi- cult to conceive, and Jay, very properly, would not listen to it. ) 166 STUDIES IN HISTORY. All was now over. Adams and Hamilton between them had destroyed their party, and on them the whole blame must rest. Hot-tempered and domineer- ing, neither would give way, and the real if not avowed struggle between them for supremacy brought down in undistinguishable ruin the party they had helped to build up. The Federal party had done a great work, and had insured, so far as possible, a stable government. It found America degraded in the eyes of the world, weak and helpless, rent with internal disorders, on the very brink of final ruin. It left her respected abroad, strong and j^owerful at home, secure under a settled and stable government, fairly started on the broad road of greatness and prosperity. So great had been its policy, so wise its measures, that when Mr. Jefferson and his friends came into power they were forced to accept the sys- tem of their enemies. ; With the exception of the Alien and Sedition Lavys, which expired by limitation, there was no act of the Federalists that the Democrats either dared or could undo.^ The debt of gratitude due to that great party is immense, and their admir- ers may point to their achievements for vindication and be content. Yet there is no sufficient reason for assuming that the career of the Federalists must nec- essarily have ended as it did. There was at least a fair prospect that a long period of usefulness was still possible, that in their strong hands the miseries and disgraces of the next fifteen years might have been avoided, and that they, instead of their opponents. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 167 might have enjoyed the fruits of their own hard la- boi's. ( Ultimately Jeffersonianism must have prevailed, but at the time of its actual triumph it came too soon, and Jefferson's early victory was secured solely by the errors of his opponents. , So long as the Federalists were united they were invincible. But Adams's dis- play of jealousy in his appointments of major-gen- erals, his rough-shod riding in the case of the peace commission, and Hamilton's mad retaliation upon him, together with the intrigues of the secretaries, de- stroyed at once the subtle charm. The delicate or- ganization, once shattered, could never be restored. There is a feeling of intense relief in turning from Hamilton amidst the falling ruins of his party, to con- sider his conduct in regard to Burr. (The last of the Federalists to lose his head, he was the first to regain it.J Gouverneur Morris has described himself after the defeat as standing in the unenviable position of the one sober man among a crowd of drunken revelers. The simile was only too apt. The Federalists were drunk with rage, maddened by their own folly, fren- zied with hatred of their arch-enemy, Jefferson. In this dangerous mood they listened to the intriguing whispers of Burr, and contemplated electing him to the presidency by their votes in the House. Hamil- ton threw himself at once into the breach. He hated Jefferson, he was personally on good terms with Burr. But he knew Burr's character, and he abhorred the scheme which was contemplated. A few Federalists listened finally to the voice of their leader, and Burr 16 B STUDIES IN HISTORY. wa5 defeated. The foresight, the courage, the energy of Hamilton saved the country from a great danger, and his party from a disgrace a thousand times worse than any defeat. Almost the last act of his life was directed to the same object, and we see him at the close striving to save the good name of his friends and snpport the Union he had done so much to create. I have glanced at Hamilton as a soldier, orator, jurist, statesman, and financier. A few words on him as a writer, and the criticism is complete. If we com- pare Hamilton with the other writers of that period when every distinguished man did more or less politi- cal writing, and when there was no other native liter- ature, it is a simple matter to fix his position. CHe was easily firstj Xot only have his writings alone surviTed for the general reader out of the wilderness of essavs and pamphlets of the last century on similar subject;, but the "Federalist" has become a text-book in America and an authority in Europe. Hamilton, in this capacity. wiU, however, bear a severer test, — tKi: of abstract merit. His writings deal exclusively with tlie great questions of that day, and have lost their living interest. Yet as specimens of political liieratore, as disquisitions on constitutions and the art of government, and a5 masterpieces of reasoning, they are^ not only the best produced here, but they will fcike H.a rank among the best efforts of other coun- tries. One quality which raised Hamilton in this re- - rl bevonl his contemporaries on both sides of the Adiaiie was his freedom from the didactic tone which ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 169 SO mars the writings of the latter half of the last century. His style was simple, nervous, and modern in feeling, and any one who has tried to condense one of his argiunents will appreciate the statement that the thought is compressed to the last point con- sistent with clearness. Yet forcible and convincing as all Plamilton's essays are, pure as is the style, and vigorous and rapid as is the flow of thought, they arc hard reading. Admiring them as models in their way and as great intellectual eiforts, one is forced to confess them dry to the last degree. This, of course, is in great measure due to the subjects treated, but it was also partly owing to Hamilton's character. Judged solely by his letters, his speeches, or his essays, Hamilton would appear to have been almost entirely destitute of imagination and of humor. One looks in vain in all he wrote or said for a fancy, a simile, a metaphor, or a touch of fun. That most human and attractive of all senses, the sense of the ridiculous, nowhere appears. Throughout, abounds the purest, the most eloquent reasoning, which, when enforced by the bodily presence, the piercing eye, and all the forces of liis passionate nature, must have made the orator irresistible. But when we sit down to read his works unmoved by his personal influence, we are convinced, we admire rflore and more deeply, but we are never amused or absorbed. Still, in this field, neither imagination nor humor, however agree- able, are essentials, and Hamilton has certainly won in his own domain a reputation as a "^iter unsur- passed by any of his countrymen. 170 STUDIES IN HISTORY. Thus the list of his high titles to distinction comes to an end. The great question of all is still to be an- swered : AVhat of Hamilton as a man ? He has been charged with being a monarchist in princiisle and a believer in a monarchy bottomed on corruption ; with being more Biitish than American at heart ; with being a corruptionist and the proprietor of a corrupt legislative squadron; and with having acted towards the Adams wing of his own party with continued bad faith, and with a design of personal aggrandizement. To enter upon a proof of his intellectual greatness would be sheer waste of words, and therefore to weigh the charges of his enemies which affect his moral greatness is alone necessary. A great mistake has, I think, been made by the defenders and eulogists of Hamilton in dealing with the first of these charges. He was a believer, theo- retically, in the English form of government, and con- sidered it the best, at that time, ever invented. It should be remembered that our own government did not then exist, and there can be no question that the English government was the best model, and the only one from which men of English race could derive wholesome lessons. So far Hamilton was a monarch- ist. That he ever seriously believed it desirable or possible to establish a monarchy, and one " bottomed on corruption," in the United States, it is preposter- ous to suppose. There is absolutely no evidence, ex- cept the highly veracious gossip of Jefferson, that he ever thought so, and such a theory would, moreover, ALEXANDER HAMILTON. ITll have stamped him as a political idiot, which he cer- tainly was not. (On the other hand, he certainly M^as not an ardent republican.^ He believed a republican or more accurately a democratic government to be radically defective. 3 Morris says: — " General Hamilton hated republican government, because he confounded it with democratical govevn- ment; and he detested the latter, because he believed it must end in despotism, and be, in the mean time, destructive to public morality. He believed that our administration would be enfeebled progressively at every new election, and become at last contemjjtible. He apprehended that the minions of faction would sell tliemselves and their country, as soon as for- eign powers should think it worth while to make the purchase, (in short, his study of ancient history im- pressed on his mind a conviction that democracy, end- ing in tyranny, is, while it lasts, a cruel and oppres- sive domination^! "... His observation and good sense demonstrated that the materials for an aristocracy do not exist in America; . . . moreover the extent of the United States led him to fear a defect of national sentiment. " He heartily assented, nevertheless, to the Consti- tution, because he considered it as a band which might hold us together for some time, and he knew that na- tional sentiment is the offspring of national existence. He trusted, moreover, that in the chances and changes of time we should be involved in some war, which might strengthen our union and nerve the Executive. 172 STUDIES IN HISTORY. He was not, as some have supposetl, so blind as not to see that the President could purchase power, and shelter himself from responsibility, by sacrificing the rights and duties of his office at the shrine of influ- ence. \ But he was too proud, and, let me add, too vir- tuous, to recommend or tolerate measures eventually fatal to liberty and honor. It was not, then, because he thought the executive magistrate too feeble to carry on the business of the state, that he wished him to pos- sess more authority, but because he thought there was not sufficient power to carry on the business honestly. He apprehended a corrujDt understanding between the Executive and a dominating party in the legisla- ture, which would destroy the President's responsibil- ity ; and Tie loas not to he taught, what every one knows, that where responsibility ends, fraud, injus- tice, tyranny, and treachery hegin. " General Hamilton was of that kind of men who may most safely be trusted, for he was more covetous of glory than of wealth or power. But he was, of all men, the most in disc reet. He knew that a limited monarchy, even if established, could not preserve itself in this country. He knew, also, that it could not be established, because there is not the regular gradation of ranks among our citizens which is essen- tial to that species of government. And he very well knew that no monarchy whatever could be established but by the mob. " But although General Hamilton knew these things from the study of history, and perceived them by the ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 173 intuition of genius, he never failed on every occasion to advocate the excellence of, and avow his attachment to, mon archical p ;o vernment. By this course he not only cut himself off from all chance of rising into of- fice, but singularly promoted the views of his oppo- nents, who, with a fondness for wealth and power, which he had not, affected a love for the people, which he had and they had not. Thus meaning very well, he acted very ill, and approached the evils he appre- hended by his very solicitude to keep them at a dis- tance." ^ This account has been given at length, because upon the whole it conveys as good a contemporary idea of Hamilton as can be found anywhere. The writer's pow- ers of discernment have enabled him in a few vivid sentences to give us a picture of Hamilton's genius as well as of his errors of judgment. From this it may be seen how far he was from believing in a monarchy in this country ; how he souglit, above all things, an honest and honorable government, and how wonderful was his foresight and his comprehension of social and political forces, l^amilton wished a strong constitu- tional government, the only safeguard for rational, pop- ular liberty.^ He was not prepared to urge any special scheme, but he was eager for a strong government and the creation of a powerful national sentiment. The lines above printed in italics we may well take home to ourselves in the struggles of to-day as a wholesome doctrine and a proof of Hamilton's wisdom. This quo- 1 Sparks's Life of G. Morris, vol. iii. p. 2C0. 174 STUDIES IN HISTORY. tation shows, also, in the strongest and in-obably in a somewhat exaggerated manner, Hamilton's errors, his headstrong indiscretion, and the pertinacity of his opinions as instanced by his belief in the strengthen- ing effects of war, which drove him into opposition to Adams's peace commission. r ^ . . . (JIamilton never believed thoroughly in the Consti- tution._) He thought it would serve its turn and be of very great value, but at the same time he considered it defective, and urged the establishment of an Executive and Senate during good behavior, and the appointment of state governors by the central government. , There is no finer trait in Hamilton's character than the un- swerviug fidelity M'ith which he strove to preserve and strengthen a constitution which he believed to be thor- oughly insufficient. ) Nothing shows more strongly the nobleness which rises above all personal feelings by honest devotion to the best interests of the people. He was a thorough nationalist, the only one among the leaders of his day with the single exception of "\Vasli- ington : he felt that the great danger to the national life resided in the state governments; and on this ground he urged the appointment of governors, and favored a division of the large States.; A century's experience has shown the justice of these fears.V The dangers to national existence, the peril of disunion, Hamilton's especial dread, have arisen since his time from various causes, the most dangerous of which was of course slavery ; but all these causes have found their support in the pernicious extremes of states' ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 175 rights resting on the strength of the state govern- ments. Whctlier Hamilton's suggestions would have obviated these dangers, or whether they would, by going too far the other way, have created new ones, must be matter merely for speculation. While deeply convinced of the soundness of his views in this respect, Hamilton was too keen an observer not to see the value of the innate English principle of local self-govern- ment, and that states' rights, founded on local attach- ments which are always the offspring of a law of na- ture, were, in the absence of an aristocracy, the only sure barrier against extreme, unbridled democracy and the consequent peril of despotism. In the New York convention he elaborately explained that he merely wished to so confine the state governments that they could not impede the national one. After his usual manner, he then formulated the whole theory of states' rights by saying that " destruction of the States must be at once a political suicide," and that " the States can never lose their power till the whole people of America are robbed of their liberties." ^ , No man un- derstood the true nature of the Constitution or the true system for the country better than Hamilton.; He described it as a system in which "the great desid- erata are a free representation and mutual checks." ^ He believed that the only possible form of government 1 was a republic, and, although he was a monarchist in theory, he was a republican in praetice,- and, what was 1 Hamilton's Works, vol. ii. pp. 459 and 4G1. 2 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 433. 176 STUDIES IN HISTORY. still better, the devoted friend of the best good of his country. Hamilton's incautiously expressed preferences for a monarchical form as in theory the best state afforded ample ground to his enemies to brand him as " British Hamilton," but no charge was ever more baseless or absurd, for he believed thoroughly in observing the strictest neutrality towards aU nations. To prove this it is sufficient to trace his course in 1782 on the secret article, or to read his arguments on the questions which arose with England during Washington's first term. Long before the nominal author had thought of it, Hamilton had formulated the Monroe doctrine. On the Democrats alone rests the heavy responsibil- ity of importing foreign affairs into our politics. Be- cause Hamilton would not aid in plunging the country into war with England on behalf of France, because he considered the French Revolution infamous in its course, because he believed in adopting the same pol- icy towards the English as towards the French, Jef- ferson and his followers stigmatized him as a British sympathizer and adherent. Neither was Hamilton a believer or practitioner of corruption. His personal integrity was above re- proach, and his letter to Lee ^ shows how delicately he conceived his duties in office. There is not a shadow of proof that he ever used his power cor- ruptly, or corrupted anybody, unless it was when he secured a few Democratic votes for assumption by 1 Hamilton's Works, vol. v. p. 446. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 177 agreeing to support the plan for a Southern capital. The corrupt legislative squadron was one of the many fancies of Jefferson's fertile brain. Men there un- doubtedly were in Congress of both parties who held United States certificates, and of course these men were benefited by the treasury measures ; and if this is sufficient to make Hamilton a corruptionist, then he was one, but there is absolutely no other ground for the accusation. The more serious charge of acting in bad faith is unfortunately true in one instance. This was the pro- posal to Jay to change the electoral law by an ar- bitrary exercise of power. Hamilton committed this fault when he had lost all self-control, was wild with passion against Adams, and maddened by the disasters awaiting his party. This does not excuse Hamilton, but it shows the cause of the great error of his public life. The other charge of the Adams faction, that he sought empire and personal aggrandizement, was perfectly unfounded. Hamilton loved glory, but only when obtained by serving his country ; and his op- position to the peace policy was due solely to his obstinate belief that a (war would be efficacious in strengthening the government, in establishing the as- cendency of the United States in the western hemi- sphere, and in assuring success to his party.. He made a mistake, perhaps, in point of political judg- ment, but he sought no unworthy or selfish object. Mr. Morse has given us no picture of Hamilton per- sonally and in private life, and the materials are in 13 178 STUDIES IN HISTORY. truth meagre. Nevertheless, the effort is worth mak- ing, for the jDersonality of such a man is of much im- portance. Nothing shows his oratorical power better than the fact that he won such great triumphs in court and in debate without some of the attributes most essential to a f)ublic speaker. Physical qualities have a great deal to do with success as an orator, far more than is generally supposed, and not the least important is a commanding presence. Hamilton, however, was small and lithe and much below the average height of men. This is a most serious drawback, but it does not seem to have interfered with Hamilton's success. He swayed men powerfully in spite of his stature, and every competent judge knows how much this implies. Tlie reality and force of his eloquence is shown by his moving his auditors to tears by his appeal in behalf of the Constitution before the New York convention, and the effect of his look and manner is illustrated by the incident in the famous murder trial when he so awed and terrified the princijjal witness for the gov- ernment that the guilty wretch broke down, and the life of the prisoner was saved. This jiersonal power, moreover, was not confined to moments of excitement. On one occasion Hamilton went to witness the per- formance of a juggler, and chanced to sit in the front row. As soon as the entertainment began the juggler gave some coins to Hamilton, requesting him to hold them tightly in his hand, and as the performance pro- ceeded he would turn from time to time to Hamilton and ask if the coins were safe. When all was over, ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 179 the coins were returned, no use having been made of them, and one of the spectators had the curiosity to ask the juggler the reason of this apparently purpose- less manoeuvre. The reply was, " I did not like the look of that man's eyes, and I knew that, unless I could continually distract his attention, he would see through all my tricks." ^ It is obvious, therefore, that Hamilton, although small, was, nevertheless, most impressive in manner and appearance. We know, too, that he had a fine and musical voice, and a passionate temperament, so that when he was roused he had the sweeping force which carries men with it in eager sympathy. These gifts were supplemented by his grace of movement and by his striking look. He had a singularly noble and well- shaped head, as we can learn from Ceracchi's bust, and the good portraits show a face full of character and determination. All his features were sti'ongly marked, but his eyes were peculiarly striking. They were dark and deep-set, and in moments of passion had the glow and fire so rarely seen, and which, when once seen, are never forgotten. But at all times his glance had a peculiar penetration and force which were qualities characteristic of the man, and made themselves pro- foundly felt by all who came within their influence. In private life Hamilton had a great charm of manner and a warmth and humor which do not find '^ This striking little anecdote, which, I believe, has never be- fore been printed, I owe to Mr. William SiUimau, of West Troy, New York. 180 STUDIES IN HISTORY. expression in his writings. His brilliancy in conversa- tion and his personal fascination indeed must have been extreme. Adored by his own family, beloved by his personal friends, he was also unhesitatingly fol- lowed by the leading men of his party. His adher- ents were not sentimental admirers : they were cool, hard-headed, practical, able men, and their unques- tioning devotion to Hamilton and their acknowledg- ment of his supremacy are the strongest proofs of his commanding power. Hamilton's passions were his bane, and we have tried to show that it was owing to their vehemence that in moral strength he fell short of his intellectual greatness. Uncurbed passion left a stain upon his private character, and in a similar way uncurbed pas- sion caused his political errors, and made him a prin- cipal in the ruin of his party. The moral sense was not always strong enough to rise over and restrain the passions, and the greatness on one side thereby was diminished. I have tried to deal with Hamilton's varied career and with the different sides of his nature, and to judge him fairly and impartially,' bearing in mind that great genius and~' splendid abilities demand severer tests than the ordinary talents of mankind. But posterity judges Hamilton as a whole. The historian may analyze and dissect, but the final tribunal passes sen- tence on the whole man, moral and intellectual, states- man and financier, jurist and soldier, orator and writer, all combined. It is always dangerous to un- ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 181 dertake to say what the verdict of posterity is. But it may safely be assumed that posterity does not accept the opinion of his enemies ; that it does not agree with Jefferson or Adams. The people of the United States have been wont to reverence and abide by the decisions of their great chief justice, and I am in- clined to think that impartial men to-day, after mak- ing an exception in favor of Franklin, wovild agree with the opinion of John Marshall, " that Hamilton'; was the greatest man the country has ever seen, al- ways excepting Washington." TIMOTHY PICKERING. The political party which carried through the Con- stitution and founded the government under which we live holds a high jplace in history, and must always possess a deep interest for the people of the United States. It was a party of strongly marked charac- teristics, and although in most complete and essential accord as to general principles, it had also certain well-defined divisions. The Federalists of the South, notably in Virginia, as a rule were moderate both in opinion and expression, while those of New York were showy and excitable, with a military flavor not to be found elsewhere. The Federalists of New England, who furnished the main strength of the party, were simpler in manners and habits than their New York brethren, but were the most extreme in their views and the most dogmatic in their assertions. There was, too, a general division of the whole party, as is always the case between the moderate and the radical men ; and, as commonly happens, the latter ended by controlling the organization and imparting to it the tone and the characteristics by which it is best known to posterity.) If any one familiar with our history were asked to TIMOTHY PICKERING. 183 name the leader who more than any other typified extreme Federalism of the purest and most rigid ^indv he would undoubtedly go to the New England contingent and select there the man whose name gives a title to this essay. A typical man in such a party, if he has higher attributes than unflinching po- litical loyalty and uncompromising adherence to his opinions, is well worth our careful study, and Timothy Pickering was far more than a blind partisan or the unquestioning follower of other men. He held a high place among the Federalists, — no slight honor in a party which, in a long list of distinguished men, could count the names of Washington, Hamilton, Marshall, and the elder Adams. Not only as a typical character but as a public man and party leader he has strong claims upon the attention of posterity ; and yet hitherto his life and character have been but partially known and understood. In the presence of fom* am- ple volumes devoted to his biography, such a state- ment may seem strange ; but if proof be needed of its correctness recent publications afford conclusive evi- dence. Mr. Octavius Pickering, the author of the first volume of his father's biography, died before he could complete the work he had so well begun. The unfinished task was then intrusted to the late Mr. Up- ham, and the three volumes written by him cover the most important events of Colonel Pickering's career. ' From a well-meant but mistaken view of the nature ' and obligations of history, Mr. Upham has softened the personal and political controversies in which Colonel 184 STUDIES IN HISTORY. Pickering was engaged, until they seem to be little more than mere speculative differences of opinion ; and, not content with this historical peace-making, has gone even farther, and passed over in silence the separatist movements in New England from 1804 to ! 1815. To write Colonel Pickering's biography in this way may have been good-natured, but it was singu- larly unjust to both reader and subject. Such treat- ment effaced the most interesting portion of Picker- ing's career, and omitted the very events in which his strongest qualities, of both mind and character, were most strikingly displayed. A perusal of Mr. Upham's volumes left the reader in that dissatisfied frame of mind which invariably arises from a consciousness that all has not been told. The material for the whole story fortunately existed, but it was hidden from the public eye among the Pickering MSS. in the posses- sion of the Massachusetts Historical Society ; and when a biography proves to be incomplete or insuf- ficient, but is at the same time elaborate and extended, there is but little chance that it will ever be rewritten, or at least within any reasonable time. We can only hope to supply defects of this sort by a thorough ex- amination of the original sources, and indirectly from other publications, as in the present case.^ The un- printed letters and those now published for the first time fill the gaps in Mr. Upham's work, and enable us 1 Documents relating to New England Federalism. Edited by Professor Henry Adams. 1877. Life and Letters of George Cabot. 1877. TIMOTHY PICKERING. 185 to understand and to appreciate the character and career of tliis distinguished party leader. Timothy Pickering was a genuine descendant of the Puritans. He was a fit representative in the eiglit- eenth century of the race which colonized New Eng- land in the seventeenth. His ancestors were num- bered among those men who had wrung a livelihood from the rocky soil of Massachusetts and the wild seas of the North Atlantic. Surrounded by hard- ships, in conflict with man and nature, combating earth, air, and the savage with the same grim deter- mination, ''prushing out domestic dissension with re- lentless ^verity, and stubbornly resisting foreign in- terference, the Puritans in America founded and buUt up a stxcaigi^ well - ordered state. Here was worked out to the end the Puritan theory of government ; { here, and only here, Puritan Englishmen, for a cen- tury and a half, kept their race unmixed and their blood pure. ;The passage of years and the advance of civilization modified and softened the character of the New England people, but their most marked qual- ities, moral and mental, remained unchanged. In every way Timothy Pickering truly represented the race from which he sprang. His family was one of those which formed the strength of the New Eng- land population in 1776, and which, taking the tide of revolution at its flood, were borne on by it to power and place. Limited means, frugality, honesty, indus- try, order, were the essential facts in Pickering's sur- roundings during childhood ; but narrow fortime could 186 STUDIES IN HISTORY. not deprive him of education, dear to the New Eng- lander beyond any other endowment, and he jDassed with credit through Harvard College. Keturning from Cambridge to Salem, he soon displayed within the confined limits of a New England town the same qualities which he afterwards manifested on the broad field of national politics. Hardly released from col- lege, he plunged at once into party strife, became an ardent Whig, and assailed with all the zeal of a young reformer the defective militia system of the colony. Controversy soon followed. An article in the newspa^ per was wrongly attributed to him, and caused a sharp attack. Far from contenting himself with disclaiming the authorship thus thrust upon him, Pickering ac- cepted the challenge and dashed into the fight. This served as a beginning. Soon after he engaged in a conflict about church matters, and after a brief inter- val in still another, produced by opposing medical theories. In this last affair Pickering assailed the obnoxious principles with both tongue and pen. Pie wrote a series of sharp, incisive articles, signing him- self " A Lover of Truth," denounced the offending practitioner as a quack, and was threatened with a duel and with personal violence. The day of Lexington which roused New England to arms saw Pickering hastening at the head of his reg- iment to the scene of action. He arrived too late to take part in the fighting, but in season to be present at a council of officers, and urge, although wholly un- supported, an immediate attack on the " Castle," the TIMOTHY PICKERING. 187 strongest position held by the British. The following year he recruited his regiment, and led it through Rhode Island and Connecticut to join the main army in New York. Scarcely had he returned from this campaign when Washington, whose quick eye had noted his executive capacity, offered him the position of adjutant-general. After some hesitation Pickering accepted this important post, and despite his misgiv- ings rendered efficient service. The next step was to the place of quartermaster-general. The ablest officer in the American army had pronounced it a physical impossibility to carry on the duties of this position, and had relinquished it in disgust, but this had no effect upon Pickering. He took the place, nothing daunted, and carried it through to the end. Entire success was, of course, impossible, but to execute in any way the duties of a quartermaster-general under existing circumstances required energy, vigor, and administrative powers of a high and enduring kind. Here, then, Pickering remained, battling with ineffi- ciency and disorder, with Congress, and with annoy- ances of every sort, until the close of the war. Peace found him richer in reputation, but as poor as ever in material wealth, and with a growing family to be pro- vided for. A mercantile arrangement having turned out unprofitably, Pickering resolved to follow his nat- ural inclination and take to the wild farming life of the frontier. Space forbids that I should trace out the Wyoming controversies, which are well depicted by Mr. Upham. This struggle among the borderers 188 STUDIES IN HISTORY. forms one of the dark chapters in the little-known history of the confederation. But the dangers and turbulence of Wyoming, sufficient in themselves to deter most men from even entering that region, seem to have been a prevailing reason with Pickering in the selection of his future home. To his combative and vigorous nature, filled with the love of order and the spirit of command, this scene of disturbance offered powerful attractions. Perhaps, half unconsciously, his main motives were a longing for the struggle and a belief that he could ride this frontier whirlwind and control the storm. It is certain that to his fearless courage and persistence the peace which finally settled down upon the beautiful and distracted valley was largely due. Throughout every difficulty Pickering sought with stern justice to coerce the insurgents, and at the same time to wrest from the state government the rights which they had withheld from the settlers. After having supported the cause of the Constitution in Pennsylvania, he was called from the wild scenes of Wyoming to the j)ostmaster-generalship of the United States, which proved only a stepping-stone to higher things. On the dissolution of Washington's first cabi- net, Pickering was offered and accepted the secretary- ship of war. He was a singular contrast to his pred- ecessor. General Knox, the " handsome bookseller " of earlier days, who was still a fine-looking man, and not a little fond of parade. Knox had not only been a good secretary, but had shone with great lustre in the society of the capital, where he had dazzled the TIMOTHY PICKERING. 189 eyes of all beholders by his fine appearance and free style of living. To this rather splendid personage succeeded Pickering, and as he stands at the threshold of his career on the stage of national politics he is a hardly less striking figure than the retiring secretary, although in a very different way. Tall and rather gaunt, large in frame, strong of limb, and possessing a hardy constitution, Pickering was both a powerful and imposing looking man. The brush of Stuart has preserved to us his lineaments, and in them the genius of the artist has fitly represented the mental charac- teristics of his subject. An eminently Roman face of a type not uncommon in New England looks out from the canvas. Decision, incisiveness, uncompromising vigor of character, strength, narrowness, and rigidity of mind, are the suggestions of the portrait. A marked simplicity pervades the whole figure.' " The lank locks guiltless of pomatum," and the baldness undisguised by wig or powder, to which the colonel referred with pride and John Adams with sarcasm, are conspicuous. So, too, is soberness of dress, the effect of which was heightened in the original by the spectacles that i* near-sightedness rendered necessary; Stern republican simplicity seems to be the character to which Stuart's subject aspired. But the picture does not tell the whole story. Beneath this quiet and even plain exterior were hidden a reckless courage, an ardent ambition, and an unconquerable will. Once seated in the cabinet, Pickering threw himself with his accustomed zeal into the contests by which 190 STUDIES IN HISTORY. the administration was surrounded. The famous struggle over the Jay treaty had just begun, and on this matter, as on most others, Pickering was free from doubt or questioning. He supported the treaty and advised its signature, coupled with a strong re- monstrance against the British provision order. In the discovery of Eandolph's infidelity Pickering played a leading part, and to him fell the duty of disclosing to Washington the conduct of his friend and prime minister. The fall of Kandolph threw upon Pickering the temporary charge of both the state and war depart- ments, and never were his untiring energy, persistence, and capacity for work so strongly shown. Unable to fill the secretaryship of state, Washington at last con- ferred it permanently upon Pickering, and made Me- Henry secretary of war. Pickering accepted this new position with unfeigned reluctance. Neither experi- ence nor habit of mind fitted him for the place ; but he would not desert Washington, and his invincible determination soon overcame every obstacle. He could not practice sufficiently the moderation required by the position, but he rapidly familiarized himself with foreign affairs, and his state papers are able and vig- orous. He proved a far better secretary than Kan- dolph, and if his dispatches were less polished, and his arguments less ingenious than those of Jefferson, he surpassed the great Virginian in directness and strength. The ratification of the Jay treaty was the signal for TIMOTHY PICKERING. 191 fresh difficulties with France. There is no evidence that Pickering entered the cabinet with any violent prejudices against the " great nation " or in favor of England. But as his knowledge of our foreign re- lations increased, as he perceived the uses which the opposition made of their affection for France, his feelings deepened and his hostility grew apace. In France he beheld the embodiment of the two forces, hateful to him above all others, — anarchy and ■ tyranny. He believed the French Revolution to be little less than a crusade against religion, property, organized society, and the ordered liberty which he prized more than life itself ; while in the foe of France he saw a kindred people, a strongly governed state, and the sturdy, temperate freedom in whose principles he had been nurtured. ' Hatred of France rapidly extended to her American sympathizers, and strengthened his already firm conviction of the aban- doned wickedness of his political opponents. For the gratification of these feelings there was ample op- portunity given by the conduct of the French minis- ter, and Pickering speedily grappled with M. Adet in a manner most startling to a gentleman accustomed to the delicate manipulation of Edmund Randolph. In the midst of our complications with France, John Adams succeeded to the presidency, and retained Pickering as his secretary of state. If the outlook abroad was threatening, it was still more so at home, in regard to the party then dominant. The official head of the Federalists had ceased to be their real 192 STUDIES IN HISTORY. leader. The mastering influence of Washington no longer held the diverse elements in check, or com- pelled all to yield to his wise guidance. Jolm Adams was the official chief, and meant to be the real one as well, while Plamilton was the actual head of the party, and had no notion of abdicating liis controlling posi- tion. But there was also a third leader, in the person of Timothy Pickering, whose importance during these eventful years has never been justly appreciated.' The admirers of Hamilton see in Pickering nothing but an obedient disciple. The supporters of Adams re- gard him as the tool and mouth-piece of Hamilton. If we accept Mr. Upham's authority as conclusive, Pickering was little more than a conscientious per- former of his official duties who had the misfortune to diifer slightly with his chief. All these conceptions are alike erroneous. (It is true that Hamilton alone, almost, among men received the utmost admiration and respect of which Pickering was capable. It is also true that Pickering sought Hamilton's advice, and that their views generally coincided. 'But Picker- ing was not the obedient disciple nor the willing tool of any man ; still less was he the simple secretary ab- sorbed in the duties of his office. ! He had his own opinions and his own policy, and he sought to carry them out as seemed best in his ovsm eyes. He was, too, an active politician, and headed the attack on Adams long before Hamilton took the field. He had not the slightest hesitation in opposing Hamilton, he acted constantly without his guidance, he sought in his TIMOTHY PICKERING. 193 own way to control the course of tbe administration, and he did more than any other man to precipitate the conflict which resulted in the downfall of Adams and the ruin of the Federalist party. The merest out- line of the contentions in the cabinet is sufficient to prove this. At a very early period Hamilton foresaw the ne- cessity of a special mission to France, and urged its adoption by Washington. Pickering, aided by Wol- cott, opposed it steadfastly, and kept it oif during the closing weeks of Washington's administration, and it was only when Adams threw his weight into the same scale with Hamilton that Pickering gave way. Even then he and Wolcott were strong enough to prevent any further advances to Madison, who had been the central figure in Hamilton's scheme of an embassy. After the dispatch of the first envoys aU went well for a time. The course of France, the insults of Talley- rand, and the publication of the X. Y Z. letters, roused a cry of rage throughout the land. Adams took the lead_ in his message, the country rallied enthusiasti- cally to his support, Pickering gave free rein in his report to his hatred of the French, and aU the Feder- alist chiefs came forward to aid the President. But this ardent union carried the seeds of destruction, and the vigorous measures so unanimously urged by the Federalists were themselves the cause of divisions. The unlooked-for danger came from the appointments in the provisional army. In this matter Pickering looked to Hamilton as the proper person for command, 13 194 STUDIES IN HISTORY. and on the nomination of Washington lost no time in urging Hamilton's claim for the seconil place. A con- test, in which Pickering took the lead, ensued as to the relative rank of the major-generals. In this first struggle with Adams he had every advantage, while his opponent put himself wholly in the wrong. Jealous of Hamilton's influence, disliking Washing- ton's selection of him for the second place, Adams, in his eagerness to escape from what he considered one intrigue, fell a victim to another. He listened too readily to the representations of a little knot of Federalists, like himself unfriendly to Hamilton, and on perfectly untenable grounds determined to give the first place to Knox. Hamilton was ready to yield precedence in deference to the wishes of Washing- ton, but he would not give way to those of Adams. As soon as the President's views became known, the Secretary of State, as well as Wolcott and Mc- Henry, made every efi'ort to change them. Picker- ing roused his friends in New England to exert their influence with the President against the proposed change, and Adams, sensible of the pressure, hard- ened himself to resistance. But Pickering had still one card left, and he played it unhesitatingly. An appeal was made to Washington, whose wishes no man cared to dispute, and which, expressed in unmistakable terms, forced the President to give way. The victory at this stage remained with the cabinet ; and in the mean time another of less moment had been achieved by Pickering, unaided and alone. The President very TIMOTHY PICKERING. 195 unwisely nominated his son-in-law, Colonel Smith, for the responsible position of adjutant-general. Unable to prevent this nomination, which he deemed a most imfit one, Pickering posted down to the senate cham- ber to urge upon his friends there the necessity of its rejection. (The precaution was superfluous, as Smith was thrown out by a large majority ; but the incident was not lost upon the President, who attributed this defeat, as he did everything of a hostile nature, to Hamilton, who had nothing to do with it, and at the same time he was much inflamed against Pickering, who was, in fact, wholly responsible) This little affair was hardly over before another difference arose, which still further estranged the President and his first sec- retary. Elbridge Gerry, one of the envoys to France, was warmly attached to Mr. Adams, and sincerely ad- mired him. It is not in human nature to feel other- wise than kindly to those who cherish such feelings toward us, for their very existence is a subtle flattery and a demand upon our gratitude to which we can- not but yield, even if the giver be a dog or a horse. John Adams was no exception to this universal rule, and he not only reciprocated Gerry's affection, but he seems also to have been convinced that Gerry was a man of great and varied talents. ; Pickering, on the contrary, in common with aU the leading Federalists, believed Gerry to be a man of slender ability and feeble character. This belief was confirmed by Ger- ry's conduct in Paris, and dislike was fostered by the share which he was supposed to have taken in behalf 196 STUDIES IN HISTORY. of Knox in the matter of the army ai3iTOintments. Pickering wrote to George Cabot, " He [the Presi- dent] will be convinced of Gerry's disgraeefvd pusilla- nimity, weakness, duplicity, and, I think, treachery." Of course the President was convinced of notliing of the sort, and although his confidence in his favorite was so far shaken that he permitted a moderate cen- sure of his conduct in the first official reports, it rapidly revived as the quarrel with his cabinet pro- gressed. From the same cause Pickering's dislike of Gerry increased in an equal proportion. If Adams and Pickering could have been content with the re- proof already administered, and not sought the one to defend and the other to reprobate the unlucky envoy, all might have gone well. But neither was of this mind. Pickering, in the interests of what he deemed truth and sound policy, was bent on further reproof, while Adams, irritated at what he thought unnecessary severity, proposed to put Gerry on the same footing as Marshall and Pinckney. The President considered the Secretary to be influenced only by personal malice against both himself and his friend, while the Secre- tary saw in the President's course merely an insane affection for an unworthy man whom he desired to screen at the expense of his wiser and more virtuous colleagues. ' So Pickering drafted reports bristling with the severest reflections on Gerry, which the President either modified or struck out, and each was filled with intense indignation against the other.. At last the quarrel came to a head, and the strife TIMOTHY PICKERING. 197 which had long been smouldering broke out unre- strained. The President took the decisive step by ap- pointing a new minister to France without previous consultation with his cabinet. For good and sufficient reasons Mr. Adams was convinced that there was still opportunity for an honorable treaty with France, and there was therefore no doubt that he ought, for the sake of the best interests of his country, to make peace. He erred profoundly in not consulting his cab- inet, even though he was assured of their united oppo- sition, and in attaining a gTeat end he gave a fatal blow to his party by his mistaken methods. To Pick- ering and all the war Federalists the whole business appeared simply criminal. They saw in it nothing but dishonor to their country and ruin to their party. So completely blinded were they to the true state of the case that they entirely failed to perceive that, if they were united, peace as well as war might be their salvation. Yet they felt themselves to be helpless, and the utmost they could effect was to send three com- missioners instead of one. With this tameness Pick- ering was dissatisfied. Could he have had his way, he would have brought in the Senate to control the President and reject the nominations on the ground that negotiation was inexpedient. But now, as in the near future, Pickering found no one ready to proceed to the extremities for which he was hunself prepared. The Federalists could not abandon the constitutional principle which they had themselves laid down as to the independence of the Executive. But, though fet- 198 STUDIES IN HISTORY. terecl in action, Pickering gave vent to fierce denunciar tions of the President's course in letters to his friends in Massachusetts. These denunciations quickly got abroad, and the President, or some of his immedi- ate circle, retorted with the cry of " British faction.' The quarrel was soon beyond the possibility of dis- guise ; the Federalist nomination had been made, the New York elections had occurred, party safety no longer seemed to demand an appearance of harmony, and Adams turned Pickering out of the cabinet, the latter — with characteristic stubbornness — having re- fused to resign. The case is sufficiently simple, yet Mr. Upham has dwelt upon the friendship between the President and his first minister vmtil Pickering's expulsion becomes almost inexplicable, (in reality, the only wonder is that they did not come to blows long before.j There can be no doubt that if Adams had forced Pickering out at the first indication of a set- tled opposition, and of one which he could not control, he would have acted wisely. As it was, the cabinet engaged in desperate warfare with the President, each faction found its supporters, and the whole party was torn to pieces. Pickering personally was not in the least dejected by his overthrow, for depression under defeat was at all times unknown to his strong nature. He merely fell back and renewed the conflict with in- creased vigor. His first idea at this moment was the political destruction of the President, whom he now believed to have gone over to the Democrats, He felt sure that party safety could not be secured except TIMOTHY PICKERING. 199 by tlie overtlirow of Adams and the election of Pinck- ney, but he did not see that this plan, wise enough perhaps in the beginning, had been rendered impos- sible by the action of the party in their nomination. Further attacks could only make the matter worse. But Pickering never balanced advantages, and he now ad- dressed a series of letters to all the leading Federalists on the subject of his dismissal, portraying the Presi- dent's conduct in language which is remarkable for its unrestrained and vigorous invective, while the writer's ' pecidiar attention to the most minute facts and exact details is nowhere so strikingly shown. These letters were in fact elaborate and picturesque indictments of the President, varying somewhat to suit the preju- dices of the recipient. The opening sentence of the letter to Pinckney, Pickering's candidate for the pres- dency, is perhaps the most concise expression of the writer's emotions at this time : — ■ " Indignation and disgust, — these are and long have been my feelings towards Mr. Adams: disgust at his intolerable vanity ; indignation for the disgrace and mischief which his conduct has brought on the cause of federalism and the country. When I say ' long have been,' I mean for near two years past, when I began to know him. In ascribing to Mr. Ad- ams ' upright views,' I refer to public measures in general. If you were to scan his actions minutely, you would iind them influenced by selfishness, ambi- tion, and revenge; that his heart is cankered with envy, and deficient in sincerity ; that he is blind, stone 200 STUDIES IN HISTORY. blind, to Ms own faults and failings, and incapable o£ discerning the vices and defects of all his family con- nections. Hence his insatiable desire to provide in public offices for himself and them, and his injurious treatment of those who have opjoosed his wishes. Of this number I have the honor to be one." In one of these letters, written with no other object than to vindicate himself and save the party from the leadership of Adams, Pickering says, " You know that I have not the talent to lead a party, while you will allow me such a share of common-sense as must guard me against the miserable ambition and folly of at- tempting it." His humility, he says further, would have alone prevented him from trying to control the administration of government, and the charge that he did made such an effort was the offspring of jealousy which he pitied and despised. Pickering was not a man who ever disguised his feelings, and his denial of a wish to lead a party or control the government was undoubtedly a matter of conscientious belief. His state of mind is a curious example of the Puritan habit of absorption in a cause, ^o firmly did Pickering be- lieve that he was right that he conceived there could., be no honest difference of opinion, and he was thor- oughly convinced that aU he had done was solely in behalf of abstract truth, where neither personal inter- ests nor opinions entered. To him the contest did not appear as a conflict between opposing views, for both of which there was something to be said. Victory to him was not party victory, but a triumph of the prin- TIMOTHY PICKERING. 201 ciples of immutable justicey Defeat was not party de- feat, but an overthrow of tbe powers of light by the powers of 'darkness. To him the maxim that there are two sides to every question seemed an insult to the understanding. ' There was right and wrong, and the eternal battle between them ; there could be noth- ing else. His mental attitude was that of the Puritan of the seventeenth century, who regarded everything he did as done for the service of God, in which no mere personal feelings or individual interests had part. But the Puritan who seemed to himself only the poor instrument of a higher will stood before the world as a stern fanatic, a bold soldier, a wise states- man, and man of action. So Pickering, satisfied in his inmost soul that he was but the servant of truth, the defender of right, who was too wise to aspire to party leadership and too humble to seek control of the government, appeared to his fellow-men an ambitious and cajjable politician, an uncompromising partisan, an unflinching friend, and a relentless foe. From him Adams met the most determined resistance, and Pick- ering's attacks had deeply injured the party long be- fore Hamilton, in his famous pamphlet, dealt the final blow to union and mutual confidence. The dissolution of the cabinet was but the prelude to the downfall of the Federalists, and once more Pickering found himself deprived of public office and almost destitute of private property. In his own words, "Though ashamed to beg, he was able and will- ing to dig ; " so he again turned his face toward the 202 STUDIES IN HISTORY. unsettled lands of the West, and with cheerful courage prepared to return to the wilderness. The delicate generosity of his personal and political friends, how- ever, saved him from this fate, and he came back to INIassachusetts, destined never more to leave his na- tive State, whose people soon called him from his farm to represent them in the Senate of the United States. When Colonel Pickering reentered public life in 1803 he found the political world something very different from what it had been in the days when as secretary of state he had helped to shape the policy of the nation. The Federalists in the Senate were so few in number as hardly to deserve the name of a minority. They were conspicuous for ability and de- termined purpose, but they were politically helpless. The Louisiana purchase had just been consummated. Jefferson's stealthy removals from office looked like the political proscription so unhappily familiar to a later generation ; the dominant party was growing rapidly, even in New England, and the constitutional amend- ment in regard to the manner of casting the electoral vote seemed calculated to insure the Democratic ten- ure of power. Worst of all, the courts, — the last Federalist strongholds, the only remaining bulwarks of good government, — were, as Pickering believed, menaced with destruction. There can be no doubt that the more violent Democrats aimed at a complete subversion of the judiciary, and here, certainly, the Federalists had good reason for alarm. Yet there TIMOTHY PICKERING. 203 seemed no prospect of successful resistance to meas- ures fraught with such dreadful consequences. To Pickering, Louisiana meant only an indefinite extension of slave-holding territory, and the conse- quent political extinction of New England. Offices had become in his eyes nothing but a means of corrup- tion, contrived, like the constitutional amendment, to give permanency to the rule of Jefferson, and the judi- ciary, that last protection of life, property, and order, seemed to be crumbling beneath the blows of its as- sailants. From this torrent of evils there was appar- ently no escape. But while Pickering fully believed ruin to be approaching, he was not for an instant cast down. His courage rose with the emergency. In the rights of jthe St_ates_ there was still one weapon for an oppressed minoritj% and to these Pickering and some of his associates turned as the last but certain remedy. ^^They regarded secession as the final expedient, but nevertheless as a perfectly natural one ; and this, it must be remembered, was then the almost universal belief. The Union was new, was an experiment ; the state governments were old and well-tried. The only question with the men of that day was whether the ex- periment had permanently failed, and if this question was answered in the affirmative, then secession became not only a right but a duty. To Pickering the case was clear : the Union was a failure. His party, his State, and his principles were about to be effaced, and there was no assurance that liberty, property, and even life itself would not soon be sacrificed in deference to 204 STUDIES IN HISTORY. the wishes of the rabble. A few of his own sentences bring his opinions vividly before us, and show us the man, fuU of courage and determination, a leader among those who stood ready to tread the dangerous pathway of disunion. To Cabot, he says : " Mr. Jefferson's plan of destruction has been gradually advancing. If at once he had removed from office all the Federalists, and given to the people such substitutes as we gener- ally see, even his followers (I mean the mass) would have been shocked. He is still making progress in the same course ; and he has the credit of being the real source of all the innovations which threaten the sub- version of the Constitution, and the prostration of every barrier erected by it for the protection of the hest, and therefore to him the most obnoxious, part of the community. His instruments manifest tempers so malignant, so inexorable, as to convince observmg Federalists that the mild manners and habits of our countrymen are the only security against their extreme vengeance. How long we shall enjoy even this se- curity, God only knows. And must we with' folded hands wait the result, or timely think of other protec- tion ? This is a delicate subject. The principles of our Revolution point to the remedy, — a separation."^ . . . The people of the East cannot reconcile their habits, views, and interests with those of the South and West. The latter are beginning to rule with a rod of iron. The independence of the judges is now directly assailed, and the majority are either so blind or so well-trained that it wUl most undoubtedly be TIMOTHY PICKERING. 205 destroyed. New judges, of characters and tempers suited to the object, will be the selected ministers of vengeance. / I am not willing to be sacrificed by such popular tyrants. My life is not worth much ; but if it must be offered up, let it rather be in the hope of obtaining a more stable government, under which my children, at least, may enjoy freedom with security." Pickering saw in Jefferson a fit leader for a party which sought, as he firmly believed, to establish the supremacy of the rabble. He writes to Rufus King, " The cowardly wretch at their head, while, like a Parisian revolutionary monster, prating about human- ity, would feel an infernal pleasure in the utter de- struction of his opponents. We have too long wit- nessed his general turpitude, his cruel removals of faithful ofiicers, and the substitution of corruption and looseness for integrity and worth." In the same strain he wrote to Theodore Lyman : " Under such a man, and with the means he possesses and can command, corruption will continue to make rapid progress, all power will be thrown into the hands of his party in all the States, and the Federal- ists will curse the day which detached them from the milder government of the mother country. " Such is the fate which awaits us, and we shall live to see it ; yes, the next presidential term will not elapse before what is now anticipated wiU be verified. One or two Marats or Robespierres in each branch of the legislature, with half a dozen hardened wretches ready to cooperate, a greater number of half-moder- 206 STUDIES IN HISTORY. ates, another portion of gaining expectants of office, another of the ignorant and undiscerning, with the many timid characters, will constitute a large major- ity, up to any measure which the revenge, the malice, the ambition, or rapacity of the leaders shall propose. It will be enough, to render every such measure popu- lar, to declare its object to be to crush aristocracy and monarchy, and to secure liberty and republicanism. " And are otxr good citizens so devoted to their pri- vate pursuits that they will not allow themselves time to look up and see the gathering cloud ? Will noth- ing rouse them but its thunder, or strike their eyes save the lightning bursting from its bosom ? " But Pickering and his associates in Congress utterly faUed to catch the drift of public sentiment^ The mists which hung over the Potomac then as now very often prevented politicians from beholding the coun- try at large, or at best presented an image wholly dis- torted and false to its original. The people of the United States were gratified by the Louisiana pur- chase, and the other dangers, so enormous in the eyes of the Federalist senators, did not impress the popular imagination. But the advocates of secession in Wash- ington were soon undeceived. If they lacked the un- erring instinct, the keen perception of the popular feeling which had enabled Jejffierson, in 1799, success- fully to formulate and publish the doctrine of nul- lification, others possessed it, in a degree at least. When they applied for support and assistance to their party allies at home, some told them that separation TIMOTHY PICKERING. 207 was undesirable and unjustifiable; while others, ad- mitting its probability in the future, dissuaded any immediate movement. All alike refused aid or en- couragement, and the death of Hamilton destroyed even the prospect of discussing the project. Thus ended the Federalist scheme to dissolve the Union in 1804. The reelection of Jefferson followed hard upon it, and the next year, marked by signs of decay in the old parties, was the most gloomy period of Pickering's career. He seemed to be threatened with a general desertion, and though he would have gone on unflinchingly in his opposition to Jefferson, even if he had been the only opponent of the adminis- tration in the country, the idea fdled him with sad- ness. When William Plumer, of New Hampshire, left the fast-thinning ranks of the Federalists, Picker-' ing's bitterness knew no bounds. He says he is not surprised ; that he has long thought Plumer entitled to no confidence ; that Plumer is fitted by religion and moral principles to be Jefferson's helper, and has been known to say that he considered "John Randolph an honest man." Worst of all, Plumer had censured a Democrat for telling too freely his party secrets. " This single sentiment," says the old " Lover of Truth," " is enough, by itself, to seal a man's damna- tion." But the days of the Federalists were not yet over. The death-struggle between France and Eng- land again involved the interests of the whole civ- ilized world, and the timorous policy of Jefferson, built upon unsound theories and dictated by what was 208 STUDIES IN HISTORY. supposed to be tLe popular wsh, gave a great opening to the Federalists. They failed to grasp their opportu- nity and rise to national success, but they united New Enaland against the administration. Into the bitter contest caused by the embargo, Pickering flung him- self, heart and soul. An old belief, laid aside for a time, once more took' possession of his mmd. Jeffer- son was the tool of France ; France was the universal spoiler and tyrant; England the defender of liberty and society. The duty of every right-thinking and God-fearing man was plain. He must side with Eng- land and resist to the death Napoleon Bonaparte and his minion, Thomas Jefferson.) But Pickering did not abandon the creed of 1804. He stiU clung to the text of the Federalist preacher, which was often in his own mouth : " Come out therefore from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing ; and I will receive you and be a father to you ; ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Almighty." The uncleanness of the Democrats, al- ways extreme in Pickering's eyes, was now increased tenfold by their affection for France and their hostil- ity to England, while at the same time he regarded their restrictive measures as the worst form of tyr- anny. " How are the powers," asked Pickering of Christopher Gore, " reserved to the States respec- tively, or to the people, to be maintained, but by the respective States judging for themselves, and putting their negative on the usurpations of the general gov- ernment ? " The same spirit breathes in the famous TIMOTHY PICKERING. 209 embargo letter addressed by Pickering to Governor Sullivan, and read by men of all parties throughout the land, and by the leaders in Europe as weU. The governor was no match for the champion who had thus assailed him, but there were others more equal to the contest. John Quincy Adams took up the gaunt- •• let which Pickering had thrown down, and replied to his letter with unsparing vigor. Nothing, however, could stay Pickering at this moment, — perhaps the happiest of his life. In tlie thick of a desperate contest, in a hopeless minority, with the eyes of the nation fixed on him, the unquestioned leader of his party in public life, the acknowledged defender of principles which he felt to be sacred, Pickering displayed all the strong- est qualities of his powerful nature, and although we may deem them misapplied we cannot withhold our admiration from their possessor. Again, however, he was destined to disappointment. He had the popular feeling in New England on his side this time, but the party leaders, much as they delighted in his fighting qualities, were not prepared for his extreme measures. They would not abandon the opportunity of national success as a party afPorded in the embargo in favor of any plans for disunion. Pickering, too, had his eye on the nation as well as on the State, but the coalition with northern Democrats which he aimed at broke down, and the Federalists failed at every point. Tliey forced the repeal of the embargo, and embittered by defeat the last hours of Jefferson's public life; but that was aU.. 14 210 STUDIES IN HISTORY. The next election deprived Pickering of his seat in the Senate, but he was in the House of Representa- tives shortly after the outbreak of the war with Eng- land. He believed the time had again come for a decided movement, yet the eastern States still hung back. The progress of the war, however, brought angry quarrels between New England and the general government. They refused to assist each other, and the year 1814 found the eastern coasts exposed to devastation, and the eastern people worn and impov- erished by the sufferings of war. At last came the call for the Hartford convention. Pickering, who had unceasingly urged strong measures on the Massachu- setts legislature, felt that the decisive moment was at hand, and he sent elaborate letters to his correspond- ents, pointing out the proper course to be pursued by the convention. He saw that a general dissolution was setting in, and he had no doubt that the British expedition to New Orleans would result in the sever- ance of the western States, an event which he be- lieved to be for the best interests of the country. De- cisive action by New England at such a moment might result, not in a northern confederacy, but in a union of the " good old thirteen States," dominated and con- trolled by New England principles^ The Hartford convention met and did its work, not at all in Picker- ing's spirit, but quite to his satisfaction, for he felt that it was an irrevocable step, and the beginning of a movement which subsequent events would determine. But even while Pickering was speculating about the TIMOTHY PICKERING. 211 future and dreaming of the downfall of the back- woods democracy, news came of the treaty of Ghent, and then, with scarcely a breathing space, of the battle of New Orleans. All was over. ( The bitter struggle of the past fifteen years was at an end, and a new political era had begun. It must have been to Pick- ering a cruel disappointment. The hope of coercing the South, of building up anew the power of New England, was destroyed, and whatever personal ambi- tion he may then have had was blasted. He saw it all at a glance, but we can only conjecture the bitterness of his feelings, for he gave no sign. However much he may have repined, no one knew of it. Useless lam- entation was not in his nature, and he had, besides, the consolation of seeing all the Federalist methods of government adopted by the new war democracy. We must not, therefore, overrate his disappointment, for, ardently as Pickering had worked for a separation, he did not regard it as a good in itself, but merely as a means to an end, as the last resort to rectify bad gov- ernment and establish the reign of the best political principlesy In other words, he desired the supremacy of New England, and he believed that by separation he could coerce the other States into submission to New England principles, or else that a northern con- federacy would be formed in which New England would be master. The establishment of the methods in government which he cherished, and the downfall of Napoleon, whom he abhorred, were sources of great and enduring satisfaction. He did not grieve for the 212 STUDIES IN HISTORY. unattainable, nor despair because the government was that of a pure democracy. He refused a reelection to Congress, withdrew to his Essex farm, and, laying aside his weapons, relapsed into a cheerful content- ment and the enjoyment of his favorite pursuit of ag- riculture. Yet he could not wholly abstain from politics. When, in after years, the old controversies were in any way revived, his spirits rose, and the attraction of the battle was irresistible. The most conspicuous in- stance of this sort was occasioned by the publication of the " Cunningham correspondence." These letters were given to the public through a most infamous breach of confidence, in order to serve party malice and raise the feeling in Massachusetts against John Quincy Adams, then a candidate for the presidency. WiUiam Cunningham had insinuated himself into the friendship of John Adams, and had succeeded in drawing from the old statesman a series of letters covering many years and relating chiefly to the agi- tated period of the last Federalist administration. These were the papers which Cunningham's son now gave to the world, and they answered his purpose to the extent of angering the surviving Federalists, of awakening old and bitter memories, and of bringing Pickering once more into the field of political con- troversy. In these letters, John Adams, trusting to the seal of secrecy which he had imposed, had poured forth, with his customary impetuosity, all his hatred of his Federalist opponents. He not merely attacked TIMOTHY PICKERING. 213 his old enemies, but he made charges of all sorts against them, — some, no doubt, well-founded, but others, too, which had no support except worn-out and exaggerated scandal. These assaults carried Picker- ing back a quarter of a century, and he promptly took down his armor and prepared to fight his battles over again with the same unquenchable vigor, the same gaudium certaminis, as in 1799. John Adams's rather vague accusations and loosely-worded version of past events, though natural enough in an intimate and strictly private correspondence, were poor mate- rial for public warfare. They offered no resistance to Pickering's carefully planned attack. Fortified with documents, and with all his usual attention to details, Pickering reviewed, or rather tore to pieces, the Cun- ningham letters. His powers of invective were still undiminished, and the sharp, incisive language in which he assailed Mr. Adams shows no abatement in his warlike strength, and no flickering in the fierce flame of party hostility. His pamphlet would have been remarkable for any man, but as the work of one verging upon eighty it is a marvelous production. The bodily and mental fibre wliich made him capable of such an effort must have been tough indeed. But Pickering's resentments were interwoven with his most deeply-rooted principles, were part of his very being, and could cease only with life itself. Shortly before his death he was invited by Mr. Thorndike, of Bev- erly, to dine with him in company with John Quincy Adams, at tliat time President of the United States. 214 STUDIES IN HISTORY. Pickering's hostility was never of the kind which leads men to shun meeting their opponents. His consist- ent theory was that in attacking a man's character and principles he was not actuated by any personal feelings, and he would have deemed it in some sort cowardly to manifest any objection to sitting at the same table with an adversary. In this particular in- stance he regarded Mr. Adams as an apostate, and there exists among his papers a vigorous definition of the crime of apostacy, clearly intended to cover Mr. Adams's case. At the same time, however, Pickering did not desire his host to imagine that because he con- sented to dine with the President he had on any point changed his views as to the character of that eminent person. Silence in such a case seemed, therefore, to savor of deception, and he accordingly addressed to Mr. Thorndike the f ollowinQr note : — ■'& Salem, September, 19, 1827. Dear Sik, — I intended to visit Wenham to - day with my wife, and on our return to call to see you and Mrs. Thorndike; but the rain preventing, I am by this note to acknowledge the receipt of your invita- tion to dinner next Wednesday, " to meet President Adams." On the supposition that I should need some preparation for the meeting, this notice was kindly intended ; but I needed none. Whenever I should meet Mr. Adams I should be civil ; certainly so when meeting as guests at the hospitable table of a friend. But knowing, as I do, his whole political career, — the TIMOTHY PICKERING. 215 slanderer of Ames and Cabot, and an apostate from the federal principles which I have always held in common with those eminent citizens and other un- changing patriots, — it is impossible for me to respect him. It was his apostacy which gained him the high object of his selfish ambition, the presidency of the United States. I accept with pleasure your invitation to dinner. Yery respectfully, T. PiCKEEING. Hon. Israel Thokndikb, Beverly. Shortly after this meeting came the presidential election. The extinction of the Federalists had made it possible for Pickering to regard the existing parties with some degree of indifference, and though it must have cost the old man an effort to support a candidate put forward by the legitimate political successors of Jefferson, yet personal feelings prevailed. Andrew Jackson had been always an open enemy, but his op- ponent was John Quincy Adams, the renegade Feder- alist and the son of John Adams. Pickering could not resist the temptation. For the last time he en- tered the field of jjolitics to oppose Adams and ad- vocate the election of Jackson. His vigorous articles showed little relaxation of the old energy of purpose and the old strength of conviction, but this was the final effort. Before Jackson was inaugurated, before Adams had returned to private life to answer once more, if he had so desired, his ancient and unforgiv- ing foe, Pickering died. The last sounds that reached 216 STUDIES IN HISTORY. his ear from the battle-field of politics announced the defeat of his enemy, and the grave closed over him before that enemy could retaliate. The last blow had been struck, the last word said, in the long strife of twenty-five years, by the strong old warrior, whose spirit nearly ninety years had failed to tame. I have tried to outline briefly this remarkable career, dwelling chiefly on those events which have the deepest personal and historical significance, and which his biographer saw fit to pass over in silence. Apart, however, from its purely historic value, the story of Colonel Pickering's life reveals a character fruitful in interest to every student of human nature. The pre- dominant qualities were strong, direct, and simple, yet we are occasionally met by contradictions so glaring that they upset every calculation and seem to paralyze analysis. The character of Timothy Pickering cannot be thoroughly appreciated without a constant recur- rence to the marked and peculiar qualities, mental and moral, of the Puritan race from which he sprang and of which he was a type. The Puritans who took up arms against Charles I. were men absorbed in the great thought of religion. All other objects were to be at- tained merely as means to the one great end, — the establishment of the kingdom of Christ by his chosen people. This religious fervor slowly abated, but the principle of utter devotion to a great cause was too deeply branded in their nature to be soon effaced^ This quality has been conspicuous among the descend- ants of the Puritans; it has led to their greatest glo- TIMOTHY PICKERING. 217 ries, and In like manner it has been the source of some of their most grievous errors. In it can be found the key to the characters of some of the most remarkable men in our history. This, as well as other less un- usual traits of the Puritan character, was possessed in a marked degree by Colonel Pickering. He was a man of the most reckless courage, physical as weU as moral, and there was nothing which so strongly moved his contempt as wavering or hesita- tion. 'It was this which caused his strong distrust of Harrison Gray Otis, " whose capital defect was tim- idity."; Hardly less remarkable was his confidence in himself, his principles, and his beliefs. The idea that he might be in the wrong never finds the slightest ac- knowledgment in his letters or speeches. On one or two occasions he was not without misgivings as to his ability to perform some trying duty, or fill some high office, but no shadow of doubt ever fell upon him as to his opinions after they had once been formed. When he had settled in his own mind what was right, he pursued it undeviatingly and without the slightest trace of hesitation. Mr. Upham says that Pickering was not jjrejudiced. A more extraordinary estimate of character it would be diificult to find. Pickering's prejudices, and his unswerving adherence to them at all times and seasons, were one great secret of his success, and this is merely the statement of a gen- eral truth. The majority of successful men are the) men of intense prejudices and intense convictions. They may not be of so high a type as the broad and 218 STUDIES IN HISTORY. liberal - minded men, but they attain the greatest measure of immediate and practical success. They appeal most strongly to the sympathies and passions of their fellow-men ; for to the mass of humanity lib- erality is apt to look like indifferentism, and inde- pendence like unreliable eccentricity. Utter and whole- souled belief in themselves and their cause was the grandest feature in the character of the Puritans. Yet this belief is but prejudice in its highest form, and of strong prejudices in aU forms Pickering was an ex- ponent. This assured confidence in his own prin- ciples and motives explains also the somewhat strange nature of his personal enmities. When we read his fierce denunciations of the elder Adams, and then find him saying that "he had no resentment toward Mr. Adams," the contradiction seems hopeless, for Pickering never used words to conceal thought. The fact is that his hostility, although directed compre- hensively against Mr. Adams's actions, opinions, and character, was not dictated by any small feelings of jealousy, revenge, or personal spite, and ill-will.7 To Pickering everything resolved itself into the strife be- tween good and evil. As the champion of the former, he felt it to be his duty, as he said to Lowell, " in this wicked world, though he could not restore it to innocence, to strive to prevent its growing worse ; " and he had no patience with the good-humored cyni- cism of his friend George Cabot, when the latter said, " Why can't you and I let the world ruin itself in its own way?" Such speeches sank deep into Picker- TIMOTHY PICKERING. 219 ing's mlncl, and he never thought of them without sorrow. This unconquerable belief in the justice of one's cause sometimes leads to a subjection of means to ends, a danger from which Pickering did not wholly escape. Confidence in his own rectitude was the pre- vailing reason for his love of plain statements, amount- ing at times to an almost brutal frankness. But he felt himself to be the defender not merely of the right in general, but of truth and honesty in particular. On these last qualities he justly prided himself ; but here, as in aU cases, the strength of his conviction led him to extremes. So wholly did he desire the fortiter in re that in public life, at least, he generally sacrificed the suaviter in modo. (In one important particular Pickering differed widely from those political and personal friends with whom he was most closely allied. They were, as a rule, genuine aristocrats in feeling, while Pickering was at bottom a democrat. ! He had a profound con- tempt not merely for such trappings as heraldic bear- ings but for any distinctions which he conceived to be in the least artificial or based on aught but the qualities and services of the individual man. i Yet he was not wanting in caste feeling of another sort. He had all tlie pride of the Puritan who gloried in belonging to the chosen people of God.' ; Within certain limits Pickering was a democrat, pure and simple, but he looked upon aU who stood beyond the pale very much as the Greek regarded the barbarian. ' This peculiar- ity is curiously manifested in his religious belief, for 220 STUDIES IN HISTORY. while he never for a moment doubted his own security of a blessed immortality, he conceived that but few of his fellow-men would share in this future felicity. In condoling with a friend upon the loss of a son, he says : " But we do not grieve as those who have no hope. We look forward to a brighter and a happier world, where sorrow shall cease, and where all tears shall be wiped from our eyes. How blest are they who entertain such hopes ! How wretched those, like numbers round me here (Washington in 1804), whose views extend not beyond the grave, and whose best refuge is anniliilation ! " In the same way he exhibits the most intense local pride and the strongest affection for his birthplace : " Not that every j^art of the Union is alike to me," he says ; " my affections still flow in what you wiU deem their natural order, — toward Salem, Massachusetts, New England, the Union at large." Again, he says, " Such events would not have happened in New England. I rejoice that I can call