ARTICLE V.-A CHAPTER OF MAINE HISTORY.

A DIVERTING chart of an early geographer represents the territory of which Maine now forms a part, as detached from the continent to which it was welded in the beginning, and drifted out into the Atlantic, as if its affinity were with the Old World. A political chart of Maine, constructed in the recent days when violence and disintegration were threatened, might have shared in the fancy of the quaint geographer, and portrayed the State as separated from the New England formation of government, and floating on the sea of storm and change toward France, with its appetite for revolution; toward Spain, with its shifting political scenery; toward other lands over the ocean where the will of the people, lawfully expressed, is but a minor factor in the problems of State.

It is with these late developments in that State that this paper has to do.

One of the crises in the physical history of a man is experienced when he has numbered his three score years. A physiological prophet would say, "about this time" expect the signs of change, and possible decay. The shock from which. Maine is suffering overtook that body politic as the State entered the sixtieth year of independent life. The system is changed ; whether it be seriously weakened, it may be too early to affirm or to deny. At quite equal intervals the State has been excited. and alarmed. In 1837 it was beset by the evil spirit of speculation. The "Eastern Lands" were wrapped in a transitory lustre, and the whole country was stimulated to invest in corner lots and larger divisions of territory. Cities were to arise, and the westward movement was to give place to an ingathering of happy multitudes who were to convert the Eastern wilderness into a glad place, and transform the quiet towns into centers of crowded life. The plow sometimes brings to the surface the surveyor's stake which was to determine the bounds of habitation, and the thick ranks of the pines shade the streets which fancy had beheld thronged with the people

who were to forsake the slowly developing regions of the country, and find homes in a State which was to outstrip all others in its course. The delusion left the State, and the country at large, with the burden of indebtedness which might have been anticipated, and this youthful trial gave to Maine food for reflection, and taught it wisdom. This financial perturbation was followed by the moral convulsion which the commonwealth experienced in common with sister States. The years of anxiety and disquiet which the slavery discussion bequeathed formed another crisis in the annals of the State.

The conscience of the people would not suffer them to be at ease. The encroachments of the power whose might is now broken, were the theme of debate in the house and by the way. The political platforms were shaken; the pulpits cried aloud; the vision of violence and garments rolled in blood was the portion of all who soberly considered the coming conflict, inevitable, irrepressible. The map of political probabilities showed the storm center which already was sending out its lightnings. The blackness of moral darkness was visible to the men and women who thought upon the significance of holding men as property. The practical question of submitting to the law which laid its hand on the fugitive was always in full view. The repeal of restrictions and the sought-for enactment of new methods of widening the sway of the slave power forced men to go to their own political place; and Maine was not behind in the endeavor to protest effectually against the extension of servitude.

A few more years and the heavens were hung with black, and there were thunderings and mighty voices. The war found the State mature in thought, and not wanting in material resources. The will and the deed were not dissociated. This third epoch in Maine history was honorable and memorable. Seventy-five thousand sent to the front; twenty-five thousand dying on the field or by sickness; that is the simple summary. The formal figures give material for infinite suggestion. The story of offering and sacrifice gathers to itself a vast variety of incident. Its outlines are not less than the whole space visited by the war. Its light and shade partake of the intensity that belongs to the portraiture of war the world over.

The

sweetness of dying for the country-the pains of death being loosed; the clear shining of devotion which was not called to make the supreme offering; the immeasurable trouble which visited the home and the heart-all this Maine knew, passing through the trial with steady courage and unfailing vigor. And now the stated interval being ended, the fourth crisis. has come. The war, which cemented the Union and consolidated each State, is so near, that some who have been a part of the contest for possession of the State government carry unhealed wounds, and yet feel the pangs which the Rebellion strewed.

In 1876, in an address on the State history, at Philadelphia, General Chamberlain spoke for Maine, and was warranted in characterizing her people as "not fanatical," but as sober, conservative, and unwilling to follow in all things the more radical mother, Massachusetts. Three years have passed, and the eulogist of Maine is summoned to protect the State property against the possible assaults of fellow citizens who have suddenly shown that fanaticism has crossed the State boundaries, and possessed the minds of men who were included in the goodly fellowship of the "sober" and the "conservative."

Our political image-breaker, Mr. Charles O'Conor, in his recent letter on our system of government, suggested changes which would reduce the ruling force to its lowest terms. He gravely submits the proposition that the Chief Executive be chosen, by lot, late in each month, for the ensuing thirty days. Thirty-day Presidents are suggestive of the temporary histories which these Maine happenings may render necessary. Late in each month, the history of the State will be issued, "good" for the following month. If governments are revolutionized, histories must share their fate. These strange revela

tions in a New England State enforce a suspension of the historical judgment. The title of this paper has regard to this unlooked-for condition of public affairs. Chapter is a convenient term, since a certain elasticity belongs to it. The succeeding pages in Maine history may be quite unlike those which record the recent occurrences in that jurisdiction; but the very disharmony will serve to emphasize the novelty, the excitement, the alarming features of the dark days when usage and

statute alike suffered violence. It will be timely to suggest at this point that the population of Maine, apart from the very few manufacturing centers, is largely constituted of the native New England element. A colony of inoffensive Swedes in the Aroostook region; an inconsiderable number of French Canadians who find their way to the cotton mills of the State; and the average infusion of the Irish element form the foreign population. As it would be in the case of New Hampshire and Vermont, the alien portion of the citizens is not large enough to account for the revolutionary spirit which has transformed the State. As a matter of fact, some of these from "without " have set an example of political probity and soberness which those of New England origin might well have imitated. It likewise must be borne in mind that the rural population, far more than the cities, has exhibited a readiness. for proceeding to the extremity of open fighting.

In the quiet, church-going, staid, country villages, far from the "wickedness" of the large towns, men, whose ancestors were the early settlers of New England and who have inherited the love of order and fair play, which our annals record as traits of the founders, have gone to and fro in a mood that almost merits the appellation of frenzy; and have been ready, as they averred, to lay down their lives that certain men, rather than sundry other citizens, might hold the State offices, and count the votes which soon will be deposited for State and National officers. The sons of those who established the New England institutions "for Christ and the Church," talked deliberately of measures which would have reddened the snow about the capitol with fraternal blood. We must close our ears to the vociferations of party men, and the exaggerations of the hour, if we would consider impartially the story of this sequel to the September election in Maine. It must be premised, that perfection and infallibility are not vouchsafed to those who form the parties in that State. Both parties have given evidence that human passions still retain their power over those who vote. The Republican and the Fusionist alike play the political game of "following your leader," and the lenient judgment is glad to believe that the exigences of party have

led some Maine men to do what they "would not," so far as

concerns their better nature. There is an enslavement of the will in the political world, no less than in the moral sphere. In criticising adversely the conduct of Governor Garcelon and his associates, one would wish to be delivered from all narrowness and bitterness; saying as little of men as possible, and discussing principle rather than politicians. "Calling names is the prerogative of early youth, or of the stump orator. The dispassionate review of a history like this illustrates the petty proportions of men and parties compared with the equity which proceeds from the Throne of God, and which determines the issue of events, though human hearts may not always think so.

The political campaign in the State which culminated in September last, had been protracted, and "heated," in the conventional phrase of the time. The financial topic had been uppermost, and the village was an exception which had not heard discussions as to the true and false in money systems. The vote was one of the largest ever polled in the State, and while the candidate of the Republicans missed of a majority by a few hundred votes, the Legislature was conceded forthwith to that party; there appearing to be a "working" majority in the Senate, and a large majority in the House, and an excess on joint ballot of more than thirty above the membership of the coalition, which for convenience sake has been generally called Fusionist, composed of the Democrat and Greenback parties. The election of a Governor and other State officers by the Republican Legislature was taken for granted, and the people quietly resumed their usual occupations, gratified or disappointed as the case might be, but with a common acceptance of the situation; although, in particular instances, intimations that the result would be reversed by those who were to count the votes, slightly disturbed the tranquility of the people. The law of the State relative to the return of votes directs that the meetings for electing the authorized officials shall be warned in due course of law "seven days at least" before the election; that "in open town meeting" the result of the vote shall be declared and a "fair record" thereof made; and that "fair copies" of the lists of votes shall be attested and sealed by the proper authorities. "Thirty days at least before the