sacrifice immediate advantage to future gain. His Celtic temperament
made him think rapidly; and what imagination failed to supply, quick
wit made good.

When, then, under the pressure of conditions for which he was not
responsible, he yielded to the demand for a repeal of the Missouri
Compromise, he failed to foresee that revulsion of moral sentiment
that swept over the North. It was perfectly clear to his mind, that
historically the prohibition of slavery by Federal law had had far
less practical effect than the North believed. He was convinced that
nearly all, if not all, of the great West was dedicated to freedom by
a law which transcended any human enactment. Why, then, hold to a mere
form, when the substance could be otherwise secured? Why should
Northerner affront Southerner by imperious demands, when the same end
might be attained by a compromise which would not cost either dear?
Possibly he was not unwilling to let New Mexico become slave
Territory, if the greater Northwest should become free by the
operation of the same principle. Besides, there was the very tangible
advantage of holding his party together by a sensible agreement, for
the sake of which each faction yielded something.

Douglas was not blind to the palpable truth that the masses are swayed
more by sentiment than logic: indeed, he knew well enough how to run
through the gamut of popular emotions. What did escape him was the
almost religious depth of the anti-slavery sentiment in that very
stock from which he himself had sprung. It was not a sentiment that
could be bargained away. There was much in it of the inexorable
obstinacy of the Puritan faith. Verging close upon fanaticism at
times, it swept away considerations of time and place, and overwhelmed
appeals to expediency. Even where the anti-slavery spirit did not take