trouble. Jefferson, in truth, averse in principle to commerce as to
war, was happily logical in his embargo system. It not only punished
the foreigner and diminished the danger of international
complications, but it kept our own ships out of harm's way; and if it
did destroy trade, and cause the grass to grow in the streets of New
York, the incident, if inconvenient, had its compensations, by
repressing hazardous external activities.

Few now, of course, would look with composure upon a policy, whatever
its ground, which contemplated the peaceable seclusion of this nation
from its principal lines of commerce. In 1807, however, a great party
accepted the alternative rather than fight, or even than create a
force which might entail war, although more probably it would have
prevented it. But would it be more prudent now to ignore the fact that
we are no longer--however much we may regret it--in a position of
insignificance or isolation, political or geographical, in any way
resembling the times of Jefferson, and that from the changed
conditions may result to us a dilemma similar to that which confronted
him and his supporters? Not only have we grown,--that is a
detail,--but the face of the world is changed, economically and
politically. The sea, now as always the great means of communication
between nations, is traversed with a rapidity and a certainty that
have minimized distances. Events which under former conditions would
have been distant and of small concern, now happen at our doors and
closely affect us. Proximity, as has been noted, is a fruitful source
of political friction, but proximity is the characteristic of the age.
The world has grown smaller. Positions formerly distant have become to
us of vital importance from their nearness. But, while distances have
shortened, they remain for us water distances, and, however short, for
political influence they must be traversed in the last resort by a