selected from among the most influential citizens without regard to party. Of this Sullivan was chairman, as also of a sub-committee for putting it in form, of which Davis, Jarvis, Otis, Blake, Amory and Prince, were the other members.

The committee, after long deliberations, agreed upon their report. The selectmen were to be chosen in townmeeting as before; and, with two delegates from each ward, were to constitute a town council. This council were to choose annually, within ten days from their organization, from their own body or from amongst the citizens at large, an intendant, who was to preside over the council and the school committee. This officer was to have a general superintendence of the police of the town, to receive a salary, and to be removable by a vote of three fourths of the council. All other officers were to be chosen by the council, except the town clerk, overseers of the poor, board of health, firewards, school committee and assessors, who were to be chosen in public meeting as before, and the police officer, who was to be appointed by the intendant. The council were to submit to the general March meeting of the inhabitants the financial condition of the town, and the sum requisite for the expenditures, which, if not objected to, they were to assess.

The committee aimed to combine efficiency in the new system with due regard to ancient prejudices. Their report, signed by Sullivan as chairman, was submitted to the inhabitants; and he was chosen moderator of the meeting. He used every exertion to secure the adoption of the plan, although its most objectionable feature, and that which was said to have led to its rejection, the choice of the chief magistrate by the council, instead of by general election, he had most zealously opposed in committee. The debate was warm and somewhat tumultuous; the attachment of the people to their old forms of self-government prevailed, and the report was rejected by a decided majority. No further effort was made to change the town organization

116 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF JAMES SULLIVAN.

until 1815, and then again without success. In the revision of the state constitution, in 1820, power was delegated to the General Court to authorize city corporations; and Boston became a city in 1822.

In another public enterprise, during this same spring, he took the prominent lead. With his associates he petitioned the legislature for a charter for the purpose of constructing a turnpike to Montreal, a distance of over three hundred miles. The proposed line, which embraced turnpikes already established in New Hampshire and Vermont, was to shorten the distance fifty miles. He was also engaged, with his friend General Knox, in a plan for uniting the waters of the Connecticut with the Middlesex Canal. What obstacle prevented the accomplishment of these projects does not appear; but they were not carried out.

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CHAPTER IV.

POLITICAL SENTIMENTS.

ANIMOSITIES, not much less embittered than those growing out of the conflicting interests mentioned at the close of the preceding chapter, were agitating other parts of Massachusetts, when, in February, 1804, the republican leaders assembled at Boston to select their candidates for the approaching spring elections. Gerry withdrawing from the canvass, Judge Sullivan was nominated for governor, and General Heath for lieutenant-governor.* An address to the electors, said to be prepared by Bidwell, of Berkshire, afterwards attorney-general, was widely distributed among the voters. It was chiefly confined to national topics, and to a defence of the policy of President Jefferson's administration. John Langdon, the brother-in-law of Sullivan, was at this same time in nomination for the chief magistracy of New Hampshire, a post he had already repeatedly occupied, and to which he was again elected for

William Heath had served through the Revolution with reputation as a good general officer. He was a strict disciplinarian, and had carefully accomplished himself in the science of his profession. From the early stages of the struggle he had been zealous, through the press, in keeping in full glow the military spirit of the people; and, some years after its close, published to the world his memoirs, presenting a truthful narrative of his own experiences. A zealous republican, from his farm at Roxbury he continued through life his contributions to the Chronicle and other journals, over the signatures of Solon and A Military Countryman; and, frequently a member of the legislature, was active and efficient in promoting the public interests.

the three following years. Before going into the details of the most bitterly contested election in the annals of the commonwealth, a slight sketch of the existing state of parties may not be out of place.

If the price of liberty be perpetual vigilance, party antagonism, armed with the ballot, is its best security. Healthy action in the physical world results from some slight excess in one or other of opposing forces. In the body politic, where, under institutions like our own, public sentiment is permitted free expression, in the numbers arrayed on either side of political warfare experience indicates a remarkable tendency towards an equipoise. Among an enlightened community there must consequently ever exist sufficient intelligence and patriotism to prevent any longcontinued mischief from the want of judgment or honesty of those in power, the change of a few votes correcting the evil. In the wisdom of former generations this safeguard was thought to be more complete, and less danger to be apprehended from the intrigues of the ambitious or unprincipled, where elections were decided by majorities, than where pluralities controlled.

Party spirit thus constitutes a vital principle of representative government, and, however disagreeable its effects in fever or delirium, without its invigorating action there can be no health, corruption creeps in, and death ensues. When a set of men, professing peculiar views of public policy, obtain direction of affairs, they are watched with untiring jealousy by their unsuccessful antagonists. Should their measures be at variance with their professions, or prove prejudicial to the general welfare, they lose their hold upon public opinion, and in time disturb or destroy the allegiance of many among their own partisans. If, availing themselves of the weakness of human nature, they strive by patronage to perpetuate the power they have abused, on the other hand avidity for place and official emoluments steadily operates as a strong incentive to redoubled efforts

on the part of their opponents; and the only sure mode of retaining the public confidence is to deserve it. External influences have had, at all periods of its existence as a state, much to do with the political character of Massachusetts, but no one can fail to perceive in its annals the beneficent operation of party in its government and legislation.

To minds that take pleasure in historical research no field presents a more interesting subject for investigation than the origin and development of political parties in a free country. But the great embarrassment is to find a startingpoint. The stream is incessantly onward, nor can we detect, amidst its full and turbid waters, the particular springs that have swollen its current. We grow into life with such political preferences as we have derived from our fathers confirmed and deepened by early associations. As we proceed and enter upon the concerns of business, or as candidates for office upon the public arena, our sentiments are insensibly modified by interest or ambition. Some, from a wish to be or to appear consistent, cling long to antiquated notions, while others, too indolent to use their own judgment, capriciously veer about with every wind of doctrine, or shape their creed by the conclusions of the more decided. All feel quite assured of their entire freedom from prejudice, and that they are induced to like or dislike, advocate or oppose, from a conscientious regard for the best interests of their country.

The political creeds of party associations, equally with those of the individuals who compose them, have their inheritance from the past. Yet, with change of time and circumstance, the ground on which they rest is perpetually shifting, and the most cherished principles come in time to be superseded by others, their reverse. Another perplexity in political science, defying all rule of reasonable explanation, is of frequent experience; one portion of the community is found to deem that extremely just and judi