yet, on the gross popular vote, he would still be over 200,000 votes behind Grant! Such would be the injustice wrought by the change of 20,000 votes; and the reader may figure in like manner with New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Ohio, Nebraska, Arkansas, South Carolina, to see what the change of 25,000 more would do. And what we here speak of as possible, in 1824, as will be seen by the table below, actually happened. Such are the beauties of the Electoral system.
De Tocqueville tells us that the Electoral College was devised "to render a majority more probable." That is to say, eighty years ago it was believed there would usually be so many Presidential aspirants as to make a clear majority in the popular ballot next to impossible; and, in fact, in 1789, with but ten States in the Union, there were eleven candidates for the Vice-Presidency; and in 1797, with sixteen States, twelve electoral candidates. But, prescient as were the fathers, they never dreamed of the political metamorphoses of our day. Through many years their theory held good: but at length, where of old were heard a dozen partisan bugle-blasts, these had blended into two or three; two standard-bearers habitually stood in the van, and behind them all the people, as in England, gathered in "two points of mighty opposites."
Jackson received a clear majority on the popular ballot in 1828, and again in 1832; so did Van Buren in 1836; so did Harrison in 1840; so did Polk in 1844; so did Pierce in 1852; so did Lincoln in 1864; so has Grant in 1868. Indeed, with two candidates in the field, a clear majority is a mathematical necessity. Thus De Tocqueville's proposition, that "it rarely happens that an individual can receive, at the first trial, a majority of the suffrages of a great people," has become historically untrue.
The "nominating convention," our modern political device, dissolves, fuses, and recombines whatever elements it touches, in the crucible of American politics, crystallizing, so to speak, every floating particle into one or other of two forms. No matter how obscure the rival candidates, one or the other must be the next President. When Daniel Webster, at Marshfield, growled out that Taylor's nomination was "not fit to be made," it was an omen of Taylor's success—as well as of Webster's support. Grant and Seymour were illustrious; but had any of Seymour's rivals for nomination—say Mr. Church, Mr. Packer, or Mr. Field—been the man, he would have run as well as Seymour. The national conventions of 1844 pitted Polk against Clay. "Who is James K. Polk?" instantly enquired, with great impartiality, both friend and foe—the one that he might vote for, the other that he might vote against him. On investigation he was discovered to be an obscure Tennessee politician, who, in due time, was elected over Henry Clay by a large popular as well as electoral majority. Eight years thereafter, anxious inquirers put a new question—"Who is Frank Pierce?" It was ascertained that this gentleman sustained the same relation to New Hampshire as Polk to Tennessee; and accordingly he was elected over General Scott by a rousing majority. Clearly enough, the device of the "convention" secures to the nominee a solid party vote, no matter who he is; and, accordingly, a popular majority for somebody is now well assured, because the existence of more famous public men of the same political school no longer splits up the party vote. Some belated Whig may think this proves that nominating conventions ought to be abolished; but that is another matter.
But suppose a popular majority were unattainable—why should not a plurality suffice? A popular plurality sometimes elects now; for, where there is no majority, the Electoral College merely makes the popular vote look as if it were a majority.
Let us now, however, turn to glance at a different matter—the connection of Congress and the College. A cautious housekeeper locks her door, puts the key in her trunk, locks that and puts the trunk-key in a cupboard, locks that and puts the cupboard-key under her pillow—sharp practice, unless the thief, instead of playing hide-and-seek for keys, concludes to pick the lock! The people are allowed to vote for President, but lest they should choose amiss, the real choice is remanded to electors; lest these should do something wrong together, they do not convene, but each
