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After signing the treaty ceding Louisiana to the United States, Robert R. Livingston declared it the noblest work of his life. If one may not assent to this enthusiastic statement of the speaker, who had been a member of the committee to draft the immortal Declaration of Independence, it is easy to admit that his work stands next in historical importance to the treaty of 1783, which recognized American independence. It added half an empire to our domain, and, a century later, gave Edward Everett Hale opportunity to speak of Livingston as "the wisest American of his time," since "Franklin had died in 1780."

When Livingston signed the Louisiana treaty he was fifty-six years of age, tall and handsome, with an abundance of hair already turning gray, which fell in ringlets over a square, high forehead, lending a certain dignity that made him appear as great off the bench as he did when gowned and throned as Chancellor. In the estimation of his contemporaries he was one of the most gifted men of his time, and the judgment of a later age has not reversed their decision. He added learning to great natural ability, and brilliancy to profound thought, and although so deaf as to make communication with him difficult, he came very near concealing the defect by his remarkable eloquence and conversational gifts. Benjamin Franklin called him "the Cicero of America." His love for the beautiful attracted Edmund Burke. It is doubtful if he had a superior in the State in the knowledge of history and the classics, and in the study of science Samuel L. Mitchell alone stood above him. He lacked the creative genius of Hamilton, the prescient gifts of Jay, and the skill of Aaron Burr to marshal men for selfish purposes; but he was at home in debate with the ablest men of his time, a master of sarcasm, of trenchant wit, and of felicitous rhetoric. It is likely that he lacked Kent's application. But of ninety-three bills passed by the legislature from 1778 to 1801, a period that spans his life as Chancellor, and which were afterward vetoed by the Council of Revision, Livingston wrote opinions in twenty-three, several of them elaborate, and all revealing capacity for legislation. In these vetoes he stood with Hamilton in resisting forfeitures and confiscations; he held with Richard Morris that loyal citizens could not be deprived of lands, though bought of an alien enemy; he agreed with Jay in upholding common law rights and limiting the death penalty; and he had the support of George Clinton and John Sloss Hobart in disapproving a measure for the gradual abolition of slavery, because the legislature thought it politically expedient to deprive colored men of the right to vote who had before enjoyed such a privilege.

In the field of politics, Livingston's search for office did not result in a happy career. So long as he stood for a broader and stronger national life his intellectual rays flashed far beyond the horizon of most of his contemporaries, but the joy of public life was clouded when he entered the domain of partisan politics. His mortification that someone other than himself was appointed Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court, made Hamilton's funding system, especially the proposed assumption of State debts, sufficient excuse for becoming an anti-federalist, and had he possessed those qualities of leadership that bind party and friends by ties of unflinching service, he might have reaped the reward that his ambition so ardently craved; but his peculiar temper unfitted him for such a career. Jealous, fretful, sensitive, and suspicious, he was as restless as his eloquence was dazzling, and when, at last, he became the anti-federalist candidate for governor in 1798, in opposition to John Jay, the campaign ended in deep humiliation. His candidacy was clearly a dash for the Presidency. He reasoned, as every ambitious New York statesman has reasoned from that day to this, that if he could carry the State in an off year, he would be needed, as the candidate of his whole party, in a Presidential year. This reasoning reduces the governorship to a sort of springboard from which to vault into the White House, and although only one man in a century has performed the feat, it has always figured as a popular and potent factor in the settlement of political nominations. George Clinton thought the Presidency would come to him, and Hamilton inspired Jay with a similar notion; but Livingston, sanguine of better treatment, was willing, for the sake of undertaking it, voluntarily to withdraw from the professional path along which he had moved to great distinction.

The personal qualities which seemed to unfit Livingston for political leadership in New York did not strengthen his usefulness in France. It was the breadth of view which distinguished him in the formation of the Union that brought him success as a diplomat. With the map of America spread out before him he handled the Louisiana problem as patriotically as he had argued for a stronger national life, and when, at last, he signed the treaty, he had forever enlarged the geography of his country.

As the American minister to the court of Napoleon, Livingston reached France in November, 1801. President Jefferson had already heard a rumor of the retrocession of Louisiana by Spain to France, and had given it little heed. He had cheerfully acquiesced in Spain's occupation of New Orleans, and after its retrocession to France he talked pleasantly of securing West Florida through French influence. "Such proof on the part of France of good will toward the United States," he wrote Livingston, in September, 1801, "would contribute to reconcile the latter to France's possession of New Orleans." But when, a year later, a French army, commanded by Leclerc, Napoleon's brother-in-law, had devastated St. Domingo and aroused the hostility of American merchants and ship-masters by his arbitrary treatment, Jefferson sensed the danger of having Napoleon for a next-door neighbor on the Mississippi. In a moment his tone changed from one of peace to a threat of war. "The cession of Louisianan to France," he declared, in a letter to Livingston, April 16, 1802, "works most sorely on the United States. There is on the globe one single spot, the possessor of which is our natural and habitual enemy. It is New Orleans. France, placing herself in that door, assumes to us the attitude of defiance. The day that France takes possession of New Orleans fixes the sentence which is to restrain her forever within her low-water mark. It seals the union of two nations, who in conjunction can maintain exclusive possession of the ocean. From that moment we must marry ourselves to the British fleet and nation."

In his anxiety the President also instructed Madison, his Secretary of State, to write Pinckney, the American minister at Madrid, to guarantee to Spain, if it had not already parted with its title, peaceable possession of Louisiana beyond the Mississippi, on condition of its ceding to the United States the territory, including New Orleans, on the east side. As the year wore on, however, and Leclerc's death followed his report of his losses, Jefferson became much easier, advising Livingston that French possession of Louisiana would not be "important enough to risk a breach of the peace." But before the ink had time to dry, almost simultaneously with the death of Leclerc, came the news, through Governor Claiborne of the Territory of Mississippi, that the Spanish Intendent had forbidden Americans the right to deposit their merchandise at New Orleans. This was a stunning blow to the President. The treaty of 1795 stipulated that the King of Spain would "permit the citizens of the United States, for the space of three years from this time, to deposit their merchandise and effects in the Port of New Orleans, and to export them from thence, without paying any other duty than a fair price for the hire of the stores, and his majesty promises either to continue this permission if he find during that time it is not prejudicial to the interests of Spain, or, if he should not agree to continue it thus, he will assign to them on another part of the banks of the Mississippi an equivalent establishment." That the three years' limitation had expired during President Adams' administration without the right being extended or its equivalent established, did not help Jefferson out of his difficulty, since the Kentucky and Tennessee settlers were already cleaning their flintlocks on the theory that it was easier to drive out a few Spaniards than to dislodge a French army after it had fortified. This was good reasoning if Louisiana was to be taken by force. But Jefferson, even when writing threatening letters, had no thought of war. "Peace is our passion," he wrote Sir John Sinclair, and in the presence of threatening hostilities he did nothing to prepare for war. His message to Congress, which opened a few days after the reception of Claiborne's dispatch, made no mention of the New Orleans trouble. He talked about everything else, but of what everybody else was talking about the President said nothing. The western settlers, vitally interested in a depot of deposit at New Orleans, resented such apparent apathy, and by resolutions and legislative action encouraged the federalists to talk so loudly for war that the President, alarmed at the condition of the public mind, sent James Monroe's name to the Senate as minister extraordinary to France and Spain. On January 13, 1803, the day of Monroe's confirmation, Jefferson hastened to write him, explaining what he had done and why he had acted. "The agitation of the public mind on occasion of the late suspension of our right of deposit at New Orleans," said he, "is extreme. In the western country it is natural and grounded on honest motives; in the seaports it proceeds from a desire for war, which increases the mercantile lottery; among federalists generally, and especially those of Congress, the object is to force us into war if possible, in order to derange our finances; or, if this cannot be done, to attach the western country to them as to their best friends, and thus get again into power. Remonstrances, memorials, etc., are now circulating through the whole of the western country, and signed by the body of the people. The measures we have been pursuing, being invisible, do not satisfy their minds. Something sensible, therefore, is necessary."

This "sensible something" was Monroe's appointment, which "has already silenced the federalists," continued the President. "Congress will no longer be agitated by them; and the country will become calm as fast as the information extends over it."

The better to support Monroe, Madison explained to Pichon, the French minister in Washington, the necessity for the undivided possession of New Orleans, claiming that it had no sort of interest for France, while the United States had no interest in extending its population to the right bank, since such emigration would tend to weaken the state and to slacken the concentration of its forces. "In spite of affinities in manners and languages," said the Secretary of State, "no colony beyond the river could exist under the same government, but would infallibly give birth to a separate state, having in its bosom germs of collision with the east, the easier to develop in proportion to the very affinities between the two empires."

This explained the true attitude of Jefferson and Madison. They did not seek territory west of the Mississippi. Their thought centered in the purchase of New Orleans; it was the "one spot on the globe, the possessor of which is our natural and habitual enemy;" France's possession of it "must marry us to the British fleet and nation;" upon it "every eye in the United States is now fixed;" to gain it Pinckney was charged "to guarantee to Spain the peaceable possession of the territory beyond the Mississippi;" in Madison's opinion "the boundary line between the United States and Louisiana should be the Mississippi;" according to his theory "no colony beyond the Mississippi could exist under the same government with that on the east side;" nor did the United States have any interest in building up a colony beyond the Mississippi. In other words, Jefferson saw only New Orleans; he wanted only New Orleans and peace; and to get the one and keep the other, Monroe was sent to Paris to secure "our rights and interests in the river Mississippi and in the territories eastward thereof."

In the meantime Livingston had taken a different view. It is not clear that he appreciated the future value of the great northwest more than did Jefferson or Madison, but in his argument for the purchase of New Orleans he had included in his request nine-tenths of the territory now known as the Louisiana Purchase. Singularly enough Livingston's letter happened to be addressed to Talleyrand, Napoleon's Minister of Foreign Affairs, on the very day Monroe's name went to the United States Senate for confirmation, and although the latter's instructions limited negotiations to the east bank of the Mississippi, Livingston's argument included the west bank. "Presuming," he writes Talleyrand, "that the Floridas are in the hands of France, I shall predicate what I have to offer upon that presumption. France can have but three objects in the possession of Louisiana and Florida: The first is the command of the Gulf; second, the supply of her islands; third, an outlet for the people, if her European population should be too great for her territory."

"Having treated this subject more at large in a paper which you have had the goodness to read," Livingston continued, "I will not dwell upon it here; but propose what it appears to be the true, policy of France to adopt, as affecting all her objects, and at the same time conciliating the affections of the United States, giving a permanency to her establishments, which she can in no other way hope for. First, let France cede to the United States so much of Louisiana as lays above the mouth of the river Arkansas. By this a barrier will be placed between the colony of France and Canada, from which she may, otherwise, be attacked with the greatest facility, and driven out before she can derive any aid from Europe. Let her possess Florida as far as the river Perdito, with all the ports on the gulf, and cede West Florida, New Orleans, and the territory on the west bank of the Mississippi to the United States. This cession will only be valuable to the latter from its giving them the mouths of the river Mobile and other small rivers which penetrate their territory, and in calming their apprehensions relative to the Mississippi. It may be supposed that New Orleans is a place of some moment; it will be so to the United States, but not to France. The right of depot which the United States claims and will never relinquish, must be the source of continued disputes and animosities between the two nations, and ultimately lead the United States to aid any foreign power in the expulsion of France from that colony. Independent of this, as the present commercial capital of New Orleans is mostly American, it will be instantly removed to Natchez, to which the United States can give such advantages as to render New Orleans of little importance. Upon any other plan. Sir, it needs but little foresight to predict that the whole of this establishment must pass into the hands of Great Britain, which has, at the same time, the command of the sea, and a martial colony containing every means of attack. While the fleets block up the seaports, she can, without the smallest difficulty, attack New Orleans from Canada with 15,000 or 20,000 men and a host of savages. France, by grasping at a desert and an insignificant town, and thereby throwing the weight of the United States into the scale of Britain, will render her mistress of the new world. By the possession of Louisiana and Trinidad the colonies of Spain will lie at her mercy. By expelling France from Florida and possessing the ports on the Gulf, she will command the Islands. The East and West Indies will pour their commodities into her ports; and the precious metals of Mexico, combined with the treasures of Hindostan, enable her to purchase nations whose aid she may require in confirming her power. Though it would comport with the true policy and magnanimity of France gratuitously to offer these terms to the United States, yet they are not unwilling to purchase them at a price suited to their value and to their own circumstances, in the hope that France will at the same time satisfy their distressed citizens the debts which they have a right by so many titles to demand."

These arguments do not read like the letters of Jefferson or the instructions of Madison. There is no suggestion that the United States is without interest in the right bank of the Mississippi for fear of a divided government, or because germs of collision will develop in spite of affinities in manners and language. New Orleans is minimized, the great west is magnified. A glance at the map shows that he offered to purchase half an empire, leaving to France only a small corner in the southwest bordering on Texas. His argument fixed its limitation. "First, let France cede to the United States so much of Louisiana as lay above the mouth of the river Arkansas, West Florida, New Orleans, and the territory on the west bank of the Mississippi." Talleyrand thought the rest would be of little value. "I will give you a certificate," he said, in the course of the discussion, "that you are the most importunate negotiator I have yet met with." For this and his aid to Robert Fulton, Edward Everett Hale called Livingston "the wisest American of his time."

Napoleon received Livingston's argument three days after he heard of Leclerc's death. To a soldier who had entered Italy over the Alps, the suggestion of an attack from Canada would strongly appeal; with Nelson on the ocean, he could understand the helplessness of a French army in New Orleans; and after the failure of Leclerc in St. Domingo, the presence of yellow fever and other obstacles to success in Louisiana would not seem improbable. Such a discussion at such a time, therefore, was certain to have the most profound influence, and from January 10 to April 10, 1803, Livingston kept his reasons constantly before the First Consul and his ministers as the only policy to conserve the true interest of France, to impair the strength of England, and to win the affection of the United States.

"I have never yet had any specific instructions from you how to act or what to offer," he wrote Madison on February 18, 1803, eighteen days before Monroe left the United States; "but I have put into Napoleon's hands some notes containing plain truths mixed with that species of personal attention which I know to be most pleasing. The only basis on which I think it possible to do anything here is to connect our claims with offers to purchase the Floridas. Upon this subject my notes turn. I have first endeavored to show how little advantage France is likely to make from these colonies; the temptation they offer to Britain to attack them by sea and from Canada; the effect a conquest of them by Britain would have on the islands; and the monopoly which that conquest would give to a rival power to the trade of the West as well as of the East Indies. I have dwelt upon the importance of a friendly intercourse between them and us, both as it respects their commerce and the security of their islands; and I have proposed to them the relinquishment of New Orleans and West Florida as far as the River Perdito, together with all the territory lying to the north of the Arkansas, under an idea that it was necessary to interpose us between them and Canada, as the only means of preventing an attack from that quarter. For this I proposed an indefinite sum, not wishing to mention any till I should receive your instructions. These propositions with certain accompaniments were well received, and were some days under the First Consul's consideration. I am now lying on my oars in hopes of something explicit from you. I consider the object of immense importance; and this perhaps the favorable moment to press it."

While Livingston's letter was being read in Washington, conveying to Jefferson the first suggestion of a purchase other than that of New Orleans, the First Consul was making up his mind to accede to Livingston's request. When the decision did come, it came with Napoleonic suddenness. For three months he had considered it; but not until Sunday, April 10, did he make known his intention; then, in a moment, without warning, he let his desire be known to Talleyrand and Marbois. "I can scarcely say that I cede it," said Napoleon, "for it is not yet in our possession. If, however, I leave the least time to our enemies, I shall only transmit an empty title." Marbois agreed, Talleyrand dissented, and the trio parted; but at daybreak, on Monday, Napoleon sent for Marbois, declaring that "irresolution and deliberation are no longer in season; I renounce Louisiana. It is not only New Orleans that I cede; it is the whole colony, without reserve. I know the price of what I abandon. I renounce it with the greatest regret; to attempt obstinately to retain it would be folly. I direct you to regulate the affairs. Have an interview this very day with Mr. Livingston."

Whatever occurred after this belongs simply to the making of a bargain. The mind of Napoleon had acted. It is not easy, perhaps, to differentiate the influences that led to such action, but it is not difficult to measure them. In writing the Minister of Marine, Talleyrand explained that "the empire of circumstances, foresight of the future, and the intention to compensate by an advantageous arrangement for the inevitable loss of a country which was going to be put at the mercy of another nation—all these motives have determined the Government to pass to the United States the right it had acquired from Spain over the sovereignty and property of Louisiana." In brief, Napoleon's sale of Louisiana, as explained by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, disposed of a country which he would inevitably lose whenever war occurred with England. This was the argument Livingston had been urging for three months, with evident effect. Had he been less earnest or dramatic, Napoleon's purpose might not then have exploded into an order to sell. The American Minister knew he was dealing with a man guided by such an implacable hatred of England, that when he was not fighting her openly, he was plotting against her secretly; that his one purpose, his one hope, his great ambition, was her conquest. In his argument, therefore, Livingston dangled before him a picture to feed his hatred—a picture of Trinidad and Louisiana forming a base from which England might drive Spain from Florida, command the islands of the Gulf, and receive into its ports the riches of the West Indies and the treasures of Mexico. Thus, Livingston's presence becomes a great factor in the sale. It took six months to communicate with the United States, but only six days to do business with the man who was pressing the sale upon him. If more time had elapsed, the sudden decision might have been changed with equal suddenness, for Napoleon, aside from his inconstancy, had cause to shrink from his intended action. It meant the violation of a sacred pledge to Spain, the death of Talleyrand's pet colonial policy, the certain disgust, sooner or later, of the French people, and a hot quarrel with Lucien and Joseph Bonaparte, his brothers.

In the negotiations that followed Livingston ventured to offer twenty million francs, and Marbois finally suggested sixty millions, with payment of the American claim to the amount of twenty millions more. Thus ended the historic midnight conference during which the bargain was practically made. "It is so very important," wrote Livingston, "that you should be apprised that a negotiation is actually opened, even before Mr. Monroe is presented, in order to calm the tumult which the news of war will renew, that I have lost no time in communicating it. We shall do all we can to cheapen the purchase, but my present sentiment is that we shall buy."

Considering the extent of the purchase and the danger of delay, Livingston would have been justified in closing the bargain then and there. Had he known the action of Lucien Bonaparte, who had secured the cession from Spain, and of Joseph's insincerity, upon whom he even depended to help along the negotiation, he might well have taken counsel of his fears; but the great real estate dealer enjoyed driving a good bargain, and so he argued and held aloof, professing that the United States "had no disposition to extend across the river;" that they "would be perfectly satisfied with New Orleans and the Floridas;" that they "could not give any great sum for the purchase;" that "it was vain to ask anything so greatly beyond our means;" that "true policy would dictate to the First Consul not to press such a demand," since "he must know the payment of such a sum would render the present government unpopular." He minimized the importance of the deal, describing West Florida as "barren sands and sunken marshes," and New Orleans as "a small town built of wood, of about seven thousand souls," a territory "only valuable to the United States because it contained the mouths of some of their rivers," going so far as to venture a prophecy that "an emigrant would not cross the Mississippi in a hundred years;" yet, throughout weeks of dickering, he never surrendered his purpose to buy whether the price be cheapened or not.

His anxiety was greatly increased by the disclosure of Monroe's commission, since it contained power only to treat for lands on the east side of the Mississippi. "It may, if things should take a turn favorable to France," he wrote Madison, April 17, "defeat all we may do, even at the moment of signing. … You will recollect that I have been long preparing this government to yield us the country above the Arkansas, … and I am therefore surprised that our commission should have entirely lost sight of the object."

Livingston's fears proved groundless, and the dickering went on until April 29, when Marbois' original figures were accepted sixty million francs to France, and twenty million francs to American claimants; in all, fifteen million dollars. Three days later, on May 2, 1803, the treaty was signed.

It is not surprising that Livingston felt proud and happy. Other treaties of consequence had been negotiated by Americans—the treaty of alliance with France, the treaty of peace with England, and Jay's treaty of 1795; but none was more important than Livingston's. Besides, it was unparalleled in the field of diplomacy, since Louisiana cost, comparatively, almost nothing.

Perhaps Livingston's pride was only equaled by Jefferson's surprise. A mother is usually prepared for the coming of the baby that is to enlarge and illuminate her home. Its clothes are ready, the nursery is furnished, and everything is waiting its advent; but President Jefferson was unprepared for the Louisiana Purchase. It was so entirely unsought on his part that he had given the subject no consideration until half an empire came tumbling upon him like a great meteor out of the midnight sky. At first, he thought he would cede a part of it to the Indians in exchange for their holdings on the east side of the Mississippi, and "shut up all the rest from settlement for a long time to come." "I have indulged myself in these details," he writes James Dickinson, August 9, 1803, "because the subject being new it is advantageous to interchange ideas on it and to get our notions all corrected before we are obliged to act upon them." Then he raised the question of a constitutional amendment. "I suppose Congress must appeal to the nation for an additional article to the constitution approving and confirming an act which the nation had not previously authorized," he wrote Senator Breckenridge of Kentucky. "The constitution has made no provision for our holding foreign territory, still less for incorporating foreign nations into our Union. The Executive in seizing the fugitive occurrence which so much advances the good of their country have done an act beyond the constitution."

When such views reached France, Livingston hurried off several letters to Jefferson, assuring him "that were the business to do over again it would never be done. They think we have obtained an immense advantage over them. Though the appearance of war had some influence, it had much less than is ascribed to it. I know from a faithful source that the Spanish government has made the most serious remonstrances against the cession of Louisiana, and that it is now well understood that, if any additional clause of ratification should be introduced by the United States, this government would profit of the circumstance to annul the whole work."

Jefferson did not need a further hint. "I wrote you on the 12th inst. on the subject of Louisiana and the constitutional provision which might be necessary for it," he says to Senator Breckenridge. "A letter just received yesterday shows that nothing must be said on that subject which may give a pretext for retreating, but that we should do sub silentio what shall be found necessary. Be so good, therefore, as to consider that part of my letter confidential. It strengthens the reason for desiring the presence of every friend of the treaty on the first day of the session. Perhaps you can impress this necessity on the Senators from the western States by private letter."

President Jefferson was a strict constructionist. He did not believe the constitution gave Congress power to acquire additional territory; he dreaded the concentration of power in the executive, and perhaps his teachings did more than all other men to inspire the popular mind with that dread; but when he discovered that the time required to secure a constitutional amendment, exciting, as it would, a long debate in Congress, might defeat the Louisiana Purchase by arousing French feeling against its sale, he did not hesitate to bury his constitutional convictions, and to force through Congress the necessary ratification. Nor did he ever attempt any defense of his inconsistency save that the welfare of the nation demanded such action. Thomas Jefferson was not afraid of being inconsistent. To a great soul this is not weakness. There are ages that are creative. At such times two classes of men are prominent and needed—one shackled to traditions, the other guided by visions. Thomas Jefferson belonged to the latter. In 1776 the American people not only broke the bonds binding them to old England, but forged other bonds which would bind them to a new political, social and industrial order, and of those who hammered these new ties into harmony with the longing and aspirations of men, Thomas Jefferson stands among the foremost Fathers. He got his light from within. He believed in the people, in the government which they had accepted, and with Gladstonian enthusiasm he sought to lead the one and mould the other along lines of stability; but when theory and idealism ran counter to practice and experience, he did not hesitate to adopt the practical and let theory wait. This is the secret of his action in 1803. To cling to an abstract principle would lose an appreciable blessing to his country, and so he let go the abstract principle. This is the inconsistency of a great statesman, the contradictoriness of genius.

But commendable as was the part of Thomas Jefferson in that great transaction, it must not conceal the truth of history. He was not even the promoter, much less the author of the Purchase. His mind was intent upon a present need, a single spot, instant relief, made necessary by the fierce demand of a frontier people claiming a depot of deposit. It was Robert R. Livingston who had the vision.

The distinguished Chancellor, however, did not prove as careful and painstaking a lawyer as he was bold and successful as a diplomatist, for in drawing the claims convention, he neglected to include all claims, estimated their total much too low, omitted a rule of apportionment, and, most grievous of all, left the final decision as to what claims should be selected for payment to the French government. This was the rock that wrecked him. The legitimate claims of American citizens amounted to many millions, but Livingston fixed the limit at three and three-quarters millions, and compelled claimants to secure settlement through the corrupt Talleyrand and his rascally agents, who took one-half for their services. Livingston thought he had drafted the convention "with particular attention," and Monroe, who thought differently, tried his hand with no better success; then Marbois turned it to the advantage of the Frenchmen. The Americans needed a careful lawyer.

The scandal growing out of this convention deepened and cankered until Livingston quarreled with the American Claims Commissioners, excited remonstrances from the British government, and nagged the United States consul at Paris into charging him not only with blind and insatiable vanity, with hints of corrupt and criminal motives, but with "imbecility of mind."

"I considered the claims convention as a trifle compared with the other great object," he explained to Madison, "and as it had already delayed us many days, I was ready to take it under any form." He was clearly right in the comparative importance of the treaty and the convention, but after Marbois had reserved to the French government the right of final decision in each case, Livingston was inexcusable in omitting a rule of apportionment, since it excluded all claimants except the favored few whom the corrupt Frenchman selected because of their willingness to divide.

But the poisoned arrow that entered deepest into Livingston's soul was the robbery of his laurels. His successful negotiation of the treaty, putting him into the class from which Presidents were then drawn, won him the dislike of Jefferson, the distrust of Madison, and the jealousy of Monroe, who, considering him a rival, carefully concealed whatever would reflect credit upon him. His dispatches to Madison became a sealed book in the Department of State; his letters to Jefferson were not suffered to shadow the President's halo; his work, practically completed before Monroe's arrival in Paris, did not reach the eye or the ear of the American people. The great achievement filled the air, rejoicing the country as no other event since the treaty of peace with England, but little praise came to Livingston. The public gave Monroe credit for the treaty, and Livingston discredit for the claims convention. When, finally, Monroe admitted that his part in the negotiation amounted to nothing, he also encouraged the belief that Livingston did as little. It is impossible to say, of course, just what influenced Napoleon to give Marbois the order of April 11. It was not war, for war did not come until a year later; it was not money, for the Prince of Peace would have given more; it was not anger at Spain, for no real cause then existed; it was not fear of England, for Bonaparte did not fear an enemy he expected to crush; it was not St. Domingo, for Leclerc's failure already belonged to the past, with Corsica and Egypt. Perhaps Napoleon himself could not have given the real reason. But, however this may be, the fact is deeply embedded in history that Livingston was the first American to suggest the acquisition of that then vast and dimly outlined country which has been known for over a hundred years as the Louisiana Purchase—stretching west and northwest of the Mississippi, above the winding Arkansas, beyond the waters of the Missouri, across plains and flower-covered prairies to the far-away Rockies, where the Yellowstone leaps from its hiding, and snow-clad summits pierce a summer's sky.