order and movement in his thinking, he had the art of putting things,
and was a perfect master of his audience. At thirty years of age Calhoun
was as popular in Boston as he was later in Savannah and Charleston. In
1824, he was elected Vice-President,--the only man on the ticket to be
chosen by popular vote. From that hour until his death he remained a
member of the triumvirate that controlled the destinies of the Republic,
sharing honours with Henry Clay and Daniel Webster.

In the South Calhoun was all but idolized. He was tall and slender of
person, refined and elegant in manners, carrying with him great personal
charm. He was a puritan in his morals, maintained a spotless reputation,
and escaped all criticism with reference to private life that was
visited upon his competitors. Many a Northern man who went to Congress
hating the very name of Calhoun, the arch-secessionist, was compelled
to confess that he had to steel his heart against the charm of Calhoun's
speech and personality. The simplicity of his character, the clearness
of his thinking, the sincerity and moral earnestness of his nature, all
united to lend him the influence that he exerted over men like Oliver
Dyer, Webster's friend, who said of Calhoun, "He was by all odds the
most fascinating man in private intercourse that I have ever met."

When Webster and Clay came into collision, it was over a subject
apparently far removed from the bondage of slaves. If slavery was the
spark that fired the magazine for the great explosion in 1861, the
tariff furnished the powder. The South produced raw material, and
imported all her tools, comforts and conveniences, while the North had
free labour, and her educated working classes were good purchasers, and
lent generous support to manufacturers. Exporting its raw cotton to
England, the South sent its leaders to Congress to ask for free trade
with foreign countries, or in any event, a lower tariff. The Northern