of the Union; and, frightened by that threat, a sufficient number of Northern men were found willing to acquiesce, substantially, in the demands of the South. Thus the slave power learned the weak spot in the anti-slavery armor. It was likely to avail itself of that knowledge, to carry further points by similar threats, and to familiarize itself more and more with the idea that the dissolution of the Union would really be a royal remedy for all its complaints.
Would it not have been better statesmanship, then, to force the Missouri question to a straight issue at any risk, rather than compromise it?
It was certain that the final struggle between slavery and free labor would ultimately come, and also that then, as slavery was an institution utterly abhorrent to the spirit of modern civilization, it would at last be overcome by that spirit and perish. The danger was that in its struggle for life slavery might destroy the Union and free institutions in America. The question, therefore, which the statesmanship of the time had to consider was, which would be the safer policy, — to resist the demands of the South at any risk, or to tide over the difficulty until it might be fought out under more favorable circumstances?
Had the anti-slavery men in Congress, by unyielding firmness, prevented the admission of Missouri as a slave state, thus shutting out all prospect of slavery extension, and had the South then submitted, without attempting the dissolution
