its workings are forced inward. What remedy is
that which leaves a false and pernicious policy—a
policy in avowed war with the whole spirit of our
civilization and in open hostility to our whole experiment
as a government—in full working, almost
a religious creed with near one-half of our people?
As a remedy, this would be but a quack medicine at
the best. The cure must be a more thorough one.
The remedy we must look for—the only one
which can meet the exigencies of the case—must
be one which will restore to the South the attributes
of a democracy. It must cause our Southern brethren
of their own free will to reverse their steps,—to
return from their divergence. It must teach them
a purer Christianity, a truer philosophy, a sounder
economy. It must lead them to new paths of industry.
It must gently persuade them that a true national
prosperity is not the result of a total abandonment
of the community to the culture of one staple.
It must make them self-dependent, so that no longer
they shall have to import their corn from the Northwest,
their lumber-men and hay from Maine, their manufactures
from Massachusetts, their minerals from Pennsylvania,
and to employ the shipping of the world. Finally,
it must make it impossible for one overgrown interest
to plunge the whole community unresistingly into frantic
rebellion or needless war. They must learn that
a well-conditioned state is, so far as may be, perfect
in itself,—and, to be perfect in itself,
must be intelligent and free. When these lessons
are taught to the South, then will their divergence
cease, and they will enter upon a new path of enjoyment,
prosperity, and permanence. The world at present
pays them an annual bribe of some $65,000,000 to learn
none of these lessons. Their material interest
teaches them to bow down to the shrine of King Cotton.
Here, then, lies the remedy with the disease.
The prosperity of the country in general, and of the
South in particular, demands that the reign of King
Cotton should cease,—that his dynasty should
be destroyed. This result can be obtained but
in one way, and that seemingly ruinous. The present
monopoly in their great staple commodity enjoyed by
the South must be destroyed, and forever. This
result every patriot and well-wisher of the South
should ever long for; and yet, by every Southern statesman
and philosopher, it is regarded as the one irremediable
evil possible to their country. What miserable
economy! what feeble foresight! What principle
of political economy is better established than that
a monopoly is a curse to both producer and consumer?
To the first it pays a premium on fraud, sloth, and
negligence; and to the second it supplies the worst
possible article, in the worst possible way, at the
highest possible price. In agriculture, in manufactures,
in the professions, and in the arts, it is the greatest
bar to improvement with which any branch of industry
can be cursed. The South is now showing to the
world an example of a great people borne down, crushed