EX.TERED J CCORDIVG TO J CT OF COXGRESS,
IN THE YEAR 1872,
BY ANGELINA G. WELD,
In the office of the Librarian of Congress.








THE
OF
]DERICK GRIMK
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOLUM1VE  I.
COLUMBUS:
COLUMBUS PRINTING COMPANY.
1871.








PUBLISHER'S PREFACE.
Frederick Grimke, the author of these works, was born in
Charleston, South Carolina, September 1, 1791. His father, John
Faucherand Grimke, was an eminent judge of the highest Court of
that State. His brother, Thomas S. Grimke, is well remembered
as an orator and man of letters; and yet more for the boldness and
ability with which he advocated reforms, as he considered them, in
the education of youth.
Frederick Grimke, after graduating at Yale, and studying law
in Carolina, removed to Columbus, Ohio, in 1818, and commenced
the practice of his profession. His ability and learning soon became conspicuous, and led to his appointment as a judge of the
Court of Common Pleas. At the close of his official term, he removed to Chillicothe, Ohio, where he continued to reside until his
death, March 7, 1862.
After serving another term as a Common Pleas judge, he was, in
1836, promoted to the bench of the Supreme Court, and continued
to be a member of that Court until 1842, when he resigned, in
order to devote his time, without interruption, to philosophical
studies, and, especially, to the composition of his treatise on the
"Nature and Tendency of Free Institutions." Two editions of
that work appeared in his lifetime, and the third, with his latest
revisions, is now given to the public. By his will, he directed his
works to be published for distribution to certain libraries and colleges in each of the States; and it is in pursuance of this direction
that these volumes now appear.




It is no part -of the purpose of this notice to review these
productions. Some of the author's views were, when published, unpopular, and are now yet more so; but he was not a man
to be deterred from expressing his honest convictions by a dread of
censure. Modest even to diffidence, and never obtruding his opinions upon any one, he was nevertheless ready to express and defend them; because he firmly believed them to be true, and considered the defence of truth a paramount duty. Averse to the
coarse strife of party, and never seeking office, he yet made
the philosophy of politics the chief study of his life; and, though
eminent as a lawyer, a judge and a scholar, his title to intellectual
distinction mainly rests on the powers of observation and thought
displayed in the "Nature and Tendency of Free Institutions."
To those who personally knew him, he had other titles to admiration. To them his memory is endeared by a recollection of his
unassuming manners, his kindness of heart, and a purity of life
unstained by a blot.




NATURE AND TENDENCY
OF
FREE INSTITUTIONS.








NATURE AND TENDENCY
OF
FREE INSTITUTIONSo
BOOK I.
INTROD UCTO RY.
TIIE existence of free institutions presupposes the existence
of a highly civilized society. An examination, therefore, of
their genius and tendency will very naturally be preceded aby
an examination of the origin and nature of civilization.
Civilization, then, is that state in which the higher part of
our nature is made to predominate over the lower, and the
qualities which fit men for society obtain an ascendancy over
their selfish and anti-social propensities.  But as much the
greater part of the human race have always been found at one
period in an uncivilized condition, the question what has induced a change from one state to the other is not one merely
of curious inquiry, but of the highest philosophical interest.
History presents us with the earliest traces of civilization in
those regions where the densest population existed. This is a
striking fact; and perhaps it may afford a clue to the solution
of the difficulty. A population which is only tolerably full is
inconsistent with the hunter state. One which is still more
dense is inconsistent with the pastoral state. Any causes
therefore which give a decided spring to the population are
calculated to draw men from a savage into a civilized condition. When they have multiplied up to a certain point, the
1




2               NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
cultivation of the soil, which was before only occasional, and
in particular spots, becomes, from the necessity of the case,
general. It is sure, also, to be continued from choice, in consequence of the variety of desires it satisfies, and the command
it gives over both the moral and physical world.
But the difficulty still meets us, what in the first instance
occasioned the increase of the population: for the hunter state
will carry the population to a certain pitch, and the pastoral
state will extend it still further. But, although we speak of a
hunter and a pastoral state, these must not be considered as
indicating what are the exclusive, but what are the predominant occupations of the population. A tribe of shepherds, and
even of hunters, is always addicted to some species of agriculture, as an agricultural people are always addicted to the
raising of flocks.
Civilization, then, would most probably commence in a region which combined the advantages of a genial climate, and
a fertile soil. These assist in giving a predilection for the
cultivation of the soil, and in gradually superceding both the
hunter and pastoral states. The multiplication of the population to a certain point, is the necessary condition of the progress
of civilization, and how to obtain that condition is the precise
inquiry we are engaged in.
When the climate is favorable, and the land rich, men will
be attracted to agriculture as naturally as to any other pursuit. The relaxing influence of the climate will indispose to
much activity, while the rudest cultivation, the mere scratching
of the earth, will supply its fruits in tolerable abundance.
But the diversity of productions among an agricultural people
lays the foundation for a more extensive barter than can exist
in the hunter, or pastoral state. One neighborhood will exchange its products with another; and by degrees a communication will be opened between the more distant parts of the
community. The rude elements of trade will be introduced,
and ultimately a regular commerce will be commenced. Some
parts of the country will be more easily approached by water
than by land. Sometimes the rivers, at others the coasts adjacent to the sea, will afford the easiest channels. When
society has advanced so far, the population cease any longer
to be impelled by mere instincts. The circle of their desires




INTRO. ]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  3
will be enlarged, and the range of observation and experience
proportionally extended. The occupations of society then
become more complex and more diversified. Men begin to
reflect, to look more into the future, and to conform their
actions to something like rule and system. Enterprise, though
exceedingly limited, will be one feature of their character.
The coasts of neighboring countries will be visited for traffic,
as their own coasts had been explored before. And from that
time we may date the rise of a regular commerce.
Even before this period the inhabitants will be brought into
such intimate communication that the social qualities will be
distinctly developed, and those of an opposite character kept
more in the back ground. In addition to the inanimate objects
with which they will have to deal, their own minds will become the subject of observation. Each individual, in order to
regulate his own actions, will be compelled to make observation
of the actions of others: and the range of observation, widening
with every increase of the population, the understandings of
every one will be sharpened and improved, whether they will
or no. Industry and enterprise will not be the only traits in the
character of the population. There will be symptoms of intelligence visible everywhere. And this will give a fresh spring
to activity in every department of life.
The point of time when the minds of men begin to be the
subject of observation, is the most important period in the history of civilization. The foundation is then laid for reflection
in its most extensive signification. And it is for this reason
that I have laid so much stress on the cultivation of the soil,
and the consequent increase of the population, as the last is
the necessary condition of the growth of civilization. For
then not only are the desires of men multiplied and the means
of gratifying them augmented, but the beings whose minds
act upon and stimulate each other are also multiplied.
The notion of property in land is never fairly grasped, until
agriculture has made considerable progress. Among a tribe
of shepherds this notion is very indistinct-among one of
hunters it is still more faint. It is only fully developed, when
agriculture becomes the predominent pursuit  The foundation,
of the right is laidi at the first dawn of civilization, but at that
period it is not distinctly recognized, simply because the occu



4               NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOKI I.
pations of the inhabitants imply a use in common, and are
incompatible with a division of the soil. When the land is
cultivated each individual tills the spot on which the accident
cf birth has placed him. The dominion over the land was
once what the dominion over the ocean always is. The one
was once in common-the other continues to be so. As there
is no superior right of one individual over another to navigate
the ocean, there was no superior right of one over another to
cultivate the land. And yet precisely because there is no
superior right, each individual is at liberty to make use of
both. But the traversing the ocean by one vessel in a particular path is inconsistent with its being traversed by another
vessel in exactly the same path at the same time. The use of
a particular path on the ocean becomes for the time being,
exclusive. But more than this momentary use is necessary in
the case of the soil; and precisely because, as in the former
instance, there is no superior right of one over another to the
use, and this demands occupation, and occupation protection;
the right of private property in the land comes to be as legitimately established as the right to a private use of the ocean.
As soon as the notion of property has sprung up, laws are
necessary to enforce it. A system of legislation will be necessary, whiich, however rude and imperfect in the beginning,
will give shape and consistency, to the social organization, and
push onward the march of general improvement.
But, although civilization will originate among a people
who have a genial climate and a fertile soil, it may be transported to other regions, and give rise to even a higher condition
of society. For as it is not in consequence of any original
differencein the faculties of men of different countries, at least
where there is no difference of race, but only from a difference
in the circumstances in which they are placed, that some civilize themselves, while others continue in their primitive state,
there can be no obstacle to the introduction of the arts and
refinement of the most cultivated people to every region where
a foothold can be gained. This is a fine provision in the constitution of human nature. But for it there is no reason to
believe that northern and central Europe would have merged
from their barbarous condition. Britain, France and Germany,
were inhabited by barbarians until Roman civilization was in



INTRO. ]        O  FREE INSTITUTIONS.                   5
troduced. These countries are now the seats of a, civilization
more complete and refined, than existed among the people who
first conveyed thither the first rudiments of laws and manners.
The conquest of the IRomans first, and the dissolution of the
empire afterwards, produced a mixture of the people of all
parts of the continent, and caused the laws and manners, the
arts and sciences, of the people of Italy to penetrate into every
quarter. No other, or further account need or can be given of
the matter. But for lRoman civilization, London, Paris, Berlln,
as well as St. Petersburgh, Copenhagen and Stockholm, would
at the present day be villages of straggling huts. There is
not the least reason to suppose, that those spots would be inhabited by a race so far advanced in the scale of civilization,
as the present population.
No people, so far as our information extends, has been:
known to civilize itself. The civilization of ancient, as well as
of modern Europe, was of foreign growth. Nevertheless, as
civilization must have commenced somewhere, in order to be
carried abroad, it is plain, that some one people, who wereoriginally placed in singularly propitious circumstances, did
oiiginally succeed in civilizing itself. The earliest records of
history place the first civilization on the eastern coasts of the
Mediterranean, whence it has spread all over Europe.
The English, and Americans, are accustomed to talk of
their Anglo-Saxon descent. This savors much of affectation,.
if it does not denote a defect of information. For if Roman
civilization had not been planted in the island of Great Britain, before the Saxon invasion, the English and their descendants would have been very little lifted above the condition of
the Saxons who inhabited the shores between Holland and
Denmark. There was no European people at that day more
thoroughly barbarous. This is more particularly true of the
Angles, the chief tribe of the Saxons, and from wholn the
island derives its name of England. The lawless and piratical life they led, was absolutely inconsistent with the manners
and habits which are so carelessly attributed to them. There
was no way of even beginning the work of civilization, but
by breaking them up, as a tribe, and planting them among a
people who had already made considerable advances. The
English, and Americans, have no more reason to be proud of




6               NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK I.
their Ango-Saxon descent, than the people of southern Europe have to be proud of their Vandal or Gothic descent. In
every instance where barbarous tribes have invaded countries
in which iRoman civilization existed, they adopted, and grew
into the institutions and customs of the more cultivated people, and built the fabric of society on that foundation. The
mixture of the two people had precisely the same effect, only
on a much larger scale, as the mixture, and intermarriage of
the various classes in modern society. The stock of Patrician
blood would run out, the upper ranks would become enervated, if they were not constantly recruited from the Plebian
orders. Nothing is more common than to mistake a mere
coincidence for an antecedence and consequence-that is, for
cause, and effect. Thus, although circumstances peculiar to
Great Britain (its being an island for instance) have secured
to the people a better social organization than in any other
European country, its great advances have been ascribed to a
cause purely accidental, merely because it is more open to
comm6n apprehension. There can be no doubt, if the Franks
or Burgundians, instead of the Saxons, had invaded the country, the march of civilization would have been the same.
The difference between the people of New England and of
the'Southern States of America, has been supposed to arise
from the fact that the former were decendants of the Saxons,
the last of the Normans. This is another instance of confounding a coincidence with cause and effect. The cavaliers
(who we will suppose were decendants of the Normans) first
planted Virginia, but the great bulk of the immigration afterwards were of the same class as that to New England. The,difference between the two people is attributable solely to
outward circumstances. The climate of the South was more
soft, the land richer, the institution of slavery was better
adapted to the country, and these are abundantly sufficient to
account for the difference of manners (for that is the only difference) between the two people.
We should know absolutely nothing of the Saxons for three
hundred years after the invasion, if it were not for Bede's
history, and Bede himself was not born until A. D. 673.
When there is so great a blank, and a blank only attempted
to be filled up by the most superstitious of' writers, it is easy




INTRO. ]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                   7
to talk of Anglo-Saxon civilization without fear of contradiction.
It is now two centuries and a quarter since the English
people emigrated to North America.  During that period,
their descendants have peopled it in every direction, and have
covered it with the triumphs of art and science, so that if by
possibility the country should be subjugated, there is no reason to believe that the laws, manners and institutions would
be extirpated. On the contrary, they would form the basis of
any future superstructure which might be raised, even if the
invaders were as completely barbarized as the Saxons of the
fifth century.
The Romans were in possession of the island of Great Britain for four centuries. We should make a great mistake if
we supposed that it was only the Roman armies whrich occupied it. Roman citizens, of every class and occupation, emigrated there, as the English did to America. If we did not
know this to be the fact, it would be a most improbable supposition that Roman civilization did not exercise a decisive
and permanent influence upon the whole frame of Saxon society. Cities were founded even in the sequestered districts
of Wales, in which the municipal government of the mother
country was established, and the wealth and luxury displayed
by the inhabitants, was evidence of a total transformation of
the original society.:From A. D. 80 to the fifth century,
architecture and all the arts flourished, and beautiful buildings, after the Italian model, were erected in various parts of
the island. Every Roman colony and free city was a mimic
representation of the city of Ro me, encompassed with walks,
adorned with temples, palaces, aqueducts, and other buildings, both for use and ornament; so that wlhen the Emperor
Constantine rebuilt the city of Autun, in Gaul, in 296, he was
chiefly furnished with workmen from Britain. Schools were
established in various parts of the country, in which youth
were taught the Latin language, and other departments of
knowledge.*  The Theodosian code abounds in edicts relating
to these schools. Savigny, in his great work (Histoire du droit
i Henry's History of Great Britain, vol. 2, pages 92, 120. Allowance
must be made for the coloring of the historian, but the facts are substantially correct.




S                 NATURE AND TENDENCY                   [BOOK I.
Romain), shows that not less than thirty-three towns lying
between Winchester and Inverness were endowed with regular forms of municipal government; and the choice of the
magistrates was intrusted to the citizens themselves.
When the invasion of the Barbarians took place, the same
consequences follow as in central and southern Europe. A
long period of anarchy ensued.  Society was in a state of fermentation until the process of mixing and amalgamating the
two races was complete; but there never was a-time, even
during the darkness of the seventh, tenth and eleventh centuries, when Roman civilization did not exert a predominant influence throughout Britain, Gaul, Spain and Italy. The work
of Savigne is devoted to establish the perpetuity of the Roman law, to show that there never was a period when it ceased
to be the chief element in the jurisprudence of the European
States.'
The diffusion of the Latin language over the west of Europe is an incontestible proof of the thorough root which Roman civilization had taken.  It was the spoken language on
the continent, in Gaul, Spain, Belgium, &c. Mr. Gibbon (v.
1, p. 60) says that it was the spoken language in Britain also.
Mr. Hiallum  (Mid. Ages, v. 4, p. 159) thinks otherwise, and
that Latin was never spoken as generally as in Gaul and
Spain; and this is undoubtedly correct. But that it was the
spoken language of the Roman and Roman-Anglo population,
and that this population in the third and fourth centuries,
f When Julian (afterwards Emperor) commanded in Gaul, the scanty
harvest of the year 359 was supplied from the plenty of the adjacent
island. Six hundred large boats made several voyages to the coast of
Britain, and distributed their rich cargoes of wheat among the towns and
fortresses on the Rhine [Gibbon, ch. 19]. Julian himself (says Mr. Gibbon) gives a very particular account of the transaction; and if we compute the 600 ships at only seventy tons each, they were capable of exporting 120,000 quarters; and the country which could bear so large an exportation, must already have attained an improved state of agriculture.
Same chapter, note 87.
In chapter 2, Gibbon, remarking upon the condition of the island, long
before the Saxon conquest, says: "The spirit of improvement had passed
the Alps, and was felt even in the woods of Britain, which were gradually
cleared to open a free space for convenient and elegant habitations. York
was the seat of government; London was already enriched by commerce,
and Bath was celebrated for the salutary effect of its medicinal waters."




INTRO. ]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                9
was very considerable, will admit of no doubt. The Gelic
was spoken by the Britons, as in the Welsh and German settlements of the United States, these people speak their own
language, although the English is the prevailing language of
the country. The Latin is the root of a great part of the
English language. If the Saxon is the basis of the words
used in common life, the Latin is the foundation of the intellectual part of the language, nor could it be otherwise. An
uncivilized tribe cannot have the same range of ideas as a
cultivated people; and not having the ideas, it is impossible
for them to invent the corresponding words. The same fondness for uttering novel propositions which makes the English
boast of their Saxon descent, has led them to boast of the
Saxon origin of their language. Epicures whose taste is
palled by living on a healthy diet, acquire a relish for the
most repulsive food; and the most refined and cultivated
minds, satiated with the perfection to which their language
has been brought by the transfusion of the Latin, take delight
in descanting on the homely terms of Sa-xon origin. It carries them back to what they are pleased to consider an areadian age, but which only exists in their own imaginations.
Roman civilization, the traces of which, however obscured by
time, are stamped upon every feature of the existing society,
has given them a vantage ground to stand upon, and enable
them to talk of the wonders which Saxon institutions achieved.
If the question as to the structure of the English language
involved a mere critical inquiry, it would be unimportant; but
it necessarily assumes a character of profound philosophical
interest, as it is connected with the whole problem of European
civilization, and with the still deeper problem, what nation, if
any, that has risen up in the world, has ever been known to
civilize itself.
It is supposed that the bulk oi the Roman population was
expelled from the Island after the invasion of A.D. 406. That
the Roman legion had been removed some time before, in
order to protect the empire in another quarter, is certain. It
is highly probable, also, that numbers of Roman citizens
among the employes and civil officers of the government also
withdrew; but that th3 entire Roman population and the
population of mixed blood, which had been growing up dur



10              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK I.
ing a much longer period than has elapsed since the settlement
of the United States, also withdrew, is absolutely incredible.
For what was the Roman population at the commencement of
the fifth century? It was composed of persons who were
Britons by birth, although descended from Roman ancestors;
and this population which had been growing up for twenty
generations, had become fastened to the soil, by habit and
interest as well as by early associations. If a thousand years
hence, there shall be no authentic history of the dismemberment of Spain from her American colonies, no one would
place any confidence in the random  conjectures that the
Creoles had in a body abandoned Mexico, Peru and Chili.
The belief would be, as is the fact, that they nearly all remained in the country of their birth.
The Saxon conquest was not the work of a day. It proceeded more slowly than conquests usually do. The armies
which entered the country at considerable intervals, were too
small to exterminate the inhabitants, even if they had desired
to do so, although in the end they were sufficient to overcome
the military force which they encountered. Nor could there
be any motives to induce the Roman British population to
retire, when all other parts of the empire were suffering from
the overwhelming inroads of still more formidable barbarians.
Historians speak of the expulsion of the Moors from Spain.
With as much reason might a historian living three centuries
hence speak'of the entire emigration from Ireland to America
of the Gaelic race. The Moorish kingdoms of Spain were
very gradually destroyed; the last, that of Grenada, not until
the close of the fifteenth century. But the Moors had been
settled in Spain nearly eight centuries; and even if we possessed no positive information to contradict the general notion
which is afloat, the fact that the national character to this
day is strongly tinged with Moorish features, would be sufficient to prove that 3Mahommedan institutions had exerted a
decisive influence upon Spanish society. No country, we may
be well assured, has ever been emptied of its inhabitants to
anything like the extent to which the careless and sweeping
statements of some historians would seem to imply. The
rich may remove, but the bulk of the population must stay
behind.




INTRO. ]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.
With a much more formidable force than the Saxons conveyed to Britain, William the Conqueror was unable to extirpate the Saxon population. As soon as an invading army has
succeeded in overawing the people, it has no interest in pushing its conquest farther. On the contrary, it is greatly to its
advantage that they should remain. The Huguenots, notwithstanding the revocation of the edict of Nantz, always
composed a numerous and compact body in France; and yet
total expulsion was more practicable in that instance than in
any other.
The history of Great Britain, for more than three centuries
after the Saxon invasion, I have already remarked, is almost
a blank. But we know that when this piratical horde planted
itself in the island, they found regular government established,
and all the arts of civilized life in considerable progress; and
there is no way of accounting for even the slow advances
which they made in civilization, but by supposing that a large
proportion of the civilized people, and not merely the works
of art, were permitted to remain. Knowledge is power, even
in the hands of the subjugated; and the compiler of the Saxon
code was as ambitious as the compilers of the Burgundian
and Visigoth codes, of copying after Roman institutions.
There can be no doubt that the mixture of different peoples
of the same race has contributed to the progress of European
civilization, and has caused English society to attain its
present high state of perfection. But I see no reason why it
should not have made these advances, if the island had been
invaded by any other German tribe. After making allowance
for the powerful influence of Christianity, the civilization of
modern Europe is chiefly ascribable to the fact that Roman
civilization was engrafted on a northern stock. It was indifferent whether this stock should be a Saxon one or not. If
the Franks had possessed themselves of Britain, and the
Saxons of Gaul, the structure of society in the two countries
would have been the same as it is now. Two things were
necessary, that the barbarous tribes should be placed in contact with a civilized people, that they should live among
them, and learn from them, otherwise there would have been
no beginning for the new race; and secondly, that Roman
civilization should be so modified as to adapt itself to this




12              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [Bool I.
mixed people. The sufferings, the distress, and angnish of
mind which the people endured, threatened for a time to disorganize all European society. But these causes were never
sufficient to tear up by the roots Roman civilization. On the
contrary, the multiplied adversities to which men in all the
relations of life were exposed, developed reflection and individual energy, and constituted a training and discipline for
the new society, which rose up from the ruins of the old. In
the seventh and eighth centuries, learning had made greater
progress in England than anywhere else. On the Continent,
profane literature had entirely disappeared. In England the
schools were flourishing, and Greek and Roman literature
were sought after with unusual ardor, as the history of Alcuin,
the intellectual representative of the eighth century, completely attests.
Do physical causes exercise an important influence upon the
human character? This has been a much debated question.
But it is not difficult of solution. That difference of race
produces a difference of character among nations, can admit
of no doubt. But difference of race proceeds from an original
difference of structure, or organization, and is entitled to infinitely more attention than food, air, and climate. The difference between the Chinese and the people of Europe is so
marked, that it is impossible to mistake it. The Chinese
attained to their present state of civilization when the people
of Great Britain, France and Germany were in a savage condition. Education is universally diffused in China, and men
of letters have a distinction which they possess in no other
part of the world. But their education is confined within the
narrowest limits imaginable, and their literature is mawkish
and trifling in the extreme, without depth, or originality.
They are the most lettered, and the most ignorant among
civilized people. The Tartar conquest operated no change in
society; for the Tartars adopted the institutions and manners
of the conquered people, as the Franks, Goths and Saxons
adopted those which they found planted in Gaul, Spain and
Britain.
In Africa, civilization never even begun. to dawn, except on
the Mediterranean coast, which was peopled by a race totally
different from the Ethiopian. The brain is the organ of the




INTRO. ]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                13
mind, and any sensible difference in its structure must exercise a corresponding influence upon the character. There is a
great difference in this respect, between individuals of one
and the same nation. If we were to single out all the weakest
minded persons in Europe and America, and plant them
somewhere as a nation, they would probably be little inferior
to the Chinese or Hindoos. WVe could not well compare them
with the Ethiopians, because they would at least have the
gloss of civilization, while the last are still addicted to the
most savage habits. But it is still a problem whether this
physical cause proceeding from race, and the original structure of the brain, may not be countervailed by moral causes.
The physical organization undergoes great changes in a highly
civilized society. The moral causes which then exert an influence act upon the mind; and yet they act less directly than
where the discipline is of a purely mental character. If we
could transfer half a million of Chinese or Hindoos to Great
Britain or the United States, place them socially, as well as
politically, on the same footing with the people of those countries, but prevent intermarriages, except with the people of
their own race, we might be able, after the lapse of a great
many generations, to determine whether the structure of the
brain, and not merely the external manners, is capable of
alteration and improvement. No experiment of this kind has
ever been made, nor probably ever will. It will then be forever a problem. For, although as I have remarked, moral
causes would seem to be better fitted to act upon that part of
our structure which is immediately connected with the mind,
than upon that which is only so remotely; yet it must be
remembered that the mind, and consequently its physical
organ, have a power of resistance, as well as a principle of
ductility, and this power might be absolutely fatal to any fundamental change 4in the intellectual faculties.
The consideration of physical causes has been generally
confined to the influence of food, climate, and air. Climate,
undoubtedly, exerts a powerful influence upon the character.
The inhabitants of the frozen and torrid zones are distinguished
from each other by the most decisive traits; nor could any
human device bring about a resemblance between them. In
the first, the extreme rigor of the climate causes the whole of




14              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
life to be spent in efforts to battle against the elements. The
beings who are condemned to this dreary abode, are occupied
with no other care, than that of sustaining animal life. Their
faculties are dwarfed and mutilated, and their feelings are
benumbed by the terrible agents which act perpetually upon
them. In the torrid zone the character is powerfully affected,
but not in the same way, nor to the same extent. The extreme
heat of the climate produces a lassitude, which is unfavorable
to any vigorous or sustained exertion. In the first case the
mind suffers from being overtasked in ministering to the bodily
wants. In the second, it suffers through defect of capacity for
exertion. But the inhabitants of the torrid zone are capable
of rising much higher, both intellectually and morally, than
the inhabitants of the frozen. The climate does not act upon
them with such unmitigated severity, as upon the inhabitants
of the extreme north. Instead of a scanty subsistence, they
have an abundance of food. Their numbers consequently increase greatly, society is fairly established among them, and
the intercourse which takes place makes great amends for the
want of other motives to mental exertion.
In the temperate zone the differences of climate are not such
as to prevent all the people who inhabit it from attaining a
very high, though perhaps not an uniform civilization. - Where
physical causes are not absolutely overbearing in their operation, as in the polar. regions, and near the equator, they are
capable of being overpowered by moral causes, and bringing
all the people subjected to them to a near resemblance to each
other. The difference between the people of southern and
central Europe is not so great that it might not be overcome
by the operation of the same moral causes, acting upon both.
The difference between the Italians and the English is not so
great as between the Italians and the people of ancient Rome.
In the United States the difference between the people of the
North and South is not so great as it is between the people of
France, who inhabit different provinces in the same latitude.
The influence which moral causes exert will be best appreciated by singling out those classes in different countries, which
are most completely subjected to them. If the intellectual
men, in different parts of the temperate zone, have in the chief
lineaments of character a strong resemblance to one another,




INTRO. ]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                15
it must be attributed to the influence which moral causes have
in moulding the mind and disposition. The eminent men from
the south of France in the Chamber of Deputies, do not differ
materially from the eminent members of the British Parliament
who are natives of Scotland. Guizot and Berryer are not more
distinguishable from Brougham and Macauley, than they are
from each other. There is greater difference of character between Macintosh and Grattan, than between Burke and De
Tocqueville. Education, absorbing occupation, pursuits which
demand judgment and reflection, overcome the difference of
climate, where this is not extreme, and assimilate men wonderfully to each other. What is true in the higher walks of life
is true in the lower; and if the institutions, both public and
private, are the same, the different classes in both will nearly
resemble each other. The French are no longer the fickle and
vivacious people they were before the year 1789. They begin
to feel that they have some stake in the hedge, some interest
in public affairs, and this has produced a marked seriousness
of character. Thus, if difference of climate, which is so well
calculated to produce a difference of temperment, can make
two nations appear to be of different races, a train of moral
causes acting upon both m.ay make them resemble each other.
The eminent statesmen of England and the United States are
very much the same sort of persons; but there is a very great
difference between all of them and Richelieu, or Mazarine, or
Whisey and Strafford.
I have observed that the bringing men into close communication with each other, and establishing some sort of society
in the first instance, was probably the principal means of
civilizing them. This influence is two-fold. It acts upon the
manners, by imposing a restraint on the excessive indulgence
of the selfish and anti-social propensities; it acts upon the
mind, by presenting it with abundant materials for reflection.
For the study, in one form or other, of the minds and character
of others, makes up the greatest and the most valuable part
of human knowledge. But free institutions lead to an association of people of all classes. The civilization, therefore, is
destined to be more thorough and uniform than in any other
species of government. In most countries civilization, can
hardly be said to be an attribute of all classes. The various




16              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BooK I.
orders are separated as widely as if they were inhabitants of
different ages and countries. This condition of society could
not exist in the United States, nor would it have existed in
other countries if the civil and political institutions had originally been so modeled as to bring people of all ranks into a
free and constant intercourse. No nation has ever been known
to civilize itself; and the only way of civilizing the uncivilized
orders of the same country, is to bring them under the direct
nfluence of those which are civilized. The thorough civilization of the people of the United States (when compared with
that of other countries) is, more than any other circumstance,
destined to render their institutions lasting, and thus to falsify
the maxim of Montesquieu, that a nation, after it has attained
a certain height, is compelled by some invincible law of its
being, to decline.
Although a southern temperament may make men fickle,
passionate, and fond of pleasure, it also induces a contemplative turn of mind. This is a marked trait in the character of
a southern people. Free institutions turn this quality to account, and prevent the contemplative disposition from wasting
itself, as among the oriental nations, in vague and unprofitable
reveries. A vast field for active exertion is open; and this
mixture of the practical and speculative, contributes to the
formation of a very high order of mind. A most acute observer,
De Tocqueville, has perhaps exaggerated when he declares
that men of the Southern States of America, "are both more
brilliant and more profound, than those of the North."  We
shall not err, however, if we say that they have both these
qualities in as great perfection.
In every country which has run a career of long, and uninterrupted prosperity, there is a tendency to what may be termed
excessive civilization. Extremes frequently meet, and excessive civilization carries men back to the indulgence of the same
propensities which characterized them in savage life. The
same vices, only under different forms, invade every rank, and
the community would be in danger of universal dissolution,
unless some terrible calamity occurred to give a rousing shake
to society. But if there is a country, in which no wall of partition exists between the higher and lower orders, this catastrophe may be prevented, without breaking up the frame-work




INTRO.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               17
of society. The upper ranks will be constantly recruited from
that part of the population, which being inured to industry,
possesses greater simplicity of habits. The great disparity
which exists in the condition of different classes, may seem
unnatural; but it answers, among many other wise ends, this
important purpose; it prevents luxury and effeminacy from
taking complete possession of the ruling orders, and the whole
community from running rapidly to decay.
The influence which food and air exercise, is very small. In
the frozen zone, the first acts powerfully, but it is only as connected with the climate. The meagre and scanty subsistence
which the inhabitants obtain from the forests and rivers does
there stunt the growth, both of body and mind. But in the
temperate zone, the food although very different in different
regions, is on that very account, better adapted to. the various
ph) sical organizations. The inhabitants of a southern climate
have larger and more powerful muscles than those of a northern; which would seem to show that a moderate diet is not
unfavorable to the complete development of the animal structure. No people in the temperate zone has been known to
abstain from the use of stimulating drugs, such as tobacco,
spirituous liquors, tea and coffee. If any such had ever been
known, it would probably be found that the strength and
health of both body and mind was greatly improved, and that
the human frame attained a perfection which it had not any
where else. But no experiment having ever been made, we are
deprived of the only certain means of verifying the conjecture.
The present has been termed the age of physical civilization;
and it is even supposed that literature and philosophy, have
already begun to decline. This, like many other general propositions has at least the merit of containing something
striking. Its fault consists in presenting an imperfect, and
incomplete view of the matter. There never was a period,
when men were so much addicted to those pursuits, which
minister to the comforts and enjoyments of life. There never
was one when these were so widely diffused. The display of
human activity in this direction, having been so little formerly, and so immense now, the intellectual exertion which is
actually made, is thrown into the back ground, and to an inattentive observer the unprecedented progress which one
2




18               NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
pursuit has made, seems to imply the decay of all others.
I doubt whether there ever was a time of greater intellectual
exertion in France, Great Britain, and Germany, than during
the present century. There is a fault common to the great
majority of minds, even those of a high order. They can see
nothing excellent, nothing eminently fine in anything which
belongs to their own time. It is not merely that the living
envy the living, not the dead. It is because the best minds
are slow in analyzing, and appreciating what has not been
analyzed before their time. I have known very excellent
minds, affect great admiration for what are sometimes termed
"the wells undefiled of English literature," and yet a great part
of the works so characterized, are heavy and dull in the extreme. A tinge of melancholy frequently pervades the finest
minds in a civilized country.  They are saddened by the
present, not by the past; and they endeavor to escape from
every thing around them, by studies which most effectually
deaden and extinguish the sentiment of the present. This is
a topic which is too large for me to dilate upon now. The
reader must be satisfied with the few hints I have thrown out.
These will exercise his mind more than if I were to explain
the merits of the great number of brilliant, profound, and
original writers, who have adorned the present century. Physical civilization lies at the foundation of all higher civilization.
It constitutes the rudiments of moral, and intellectual culti.
vation. An age distinguished for it, denotes two things; first,
that civilization is mlore thoroughly diffused than at any former
period, and secondly, that preparation is mtaking for the
growth of a more various, profound, and original literature,
than before existed.
The general taste for physical civilization at the present day,
is an indication of a very important revolution in the structure
of society. If we confine our views to its influence upon the
social, and political organization, we cannot place too high an
estimate upon it. Whatever contributes to raise the general
standard of comfort, contributes to the development of the
popular mind, and creates an improved taste and c tpacity for
free institutions. And accordingly, the two countries, (Great
Britain and the United States,) in which physical civilization
has attained the greatest perfection, are the two in which civil




INTRO. ]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 19
and political freedom have made the greatest progress. Free
institutions are endowed with a faculty of self-preservation,
which is possessed by no other form of government. The
reason of this is, that physical civilization diffuses property,
knowledge, and power; and by so doing, conduces to the equal
distribution of the physical, and moral strength of the community.
So far from believing that physical civilization i is inconsistent with intellectual cultivation, I am convinced that the more
the former is spread, the higher is the point to which the last
will be carried. We must, at any rate, admit that physical
civilization has something to do with the formation.of the intellectual men who have adorned society. We cannot conceive
of such minds as Locke, and Burke, Montesquieu and Cuvier,
growing up in a society where they at least were not surrounded with the comforts of life.  Health is a corporeal
advantage; yet some degree of it is indispensable to the
prosecution of any intellectual enterprise. And as a wise man
will not wantonly neglect his health, he will not willingly
forego any other outward advantage which conspires to the same
end, Physical civilization supplies the materials on which
intellectual men act. If we figure to ourselves two countries,
one of which is covered with log huts, interspersed among
palaces, the other filled with populous and well built cities,
the truth of the remark will be obvious. In one the matter
for reflection and study will be inexhaustible; in the other it
will be sterile and unprofitable. All speculations in philosophy
and literature may be said to be experiments upon the human
mind. But it is impossible to make such experiments where
the race of mankind is lifted very little above the condition of
the brutes.
The more widely physical civilization is diffused, the greater
will be the chance that superior minds will emerge from obscurity. When the progress of industry and the arts is so
slow that a small proportion of the population is placed in easy
circumstances, a great number of such minds may be said to
perish annually, like seed sown upon a sandy soil. If on the
other hand, the comforts of life are extended to the bulk of the
population, the greater will be the number of the educated,
not -merely of the educated at schools and colleges, but of those




20              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK I.
who have encountered the severe intellectual discipline which
follows. The number of those who will be thinkers and actors
of the age will be greatly increased. Physical civilization may
postpone the period of intellectual cultivation; but the longer
it is postponed, the more certain it is of giving birth to the
highest exertions in every department of philosophy and literature. Even excessive civilization is not without some advantages. The mind becomes wearied with the eternal round of
heartless enjoyment, and is thrust upon its own resources for
occupation. The apparent dearth of intellectual effort in the
United States is remarkable. Never in any country has there
been so much intellect in activity; in hardly any one has so
little distinction been attained in the higher walks of learning.
The reasons are obvious: 1st, the wide-spread political institutions, together with the learned professions absorb nearly
all the talent of the country; 2d, this greatly retards the
growth of intellectual men as a body. But until they become
such, they feel as if they were placed in a false position to
society, when in truth, it is society which is placed in a false
position to them. When the minds devoted to speculation
become numerous, the common sympathy, which will animate
them will be a bond of unspeakable strength, and there will
then, probably, be no country which will exceed the United
States in every department of philosophy, science and literature. And there can be no well ordered commonwealth unless
there is a full development of the intellectual as well as the
active faculties. The first balances it and gives it a right
direction, the second keeps it in motion. All the mechanical
contrivances for balancing government are falling from our
hands, and can only be superseded by the engine of knowledge.
Take away all the intellectual men who have figured in public
life, and in the learned professions, together with the influence
which they have exerted upon other parts of society, and the
United States would be a desert. But as the population becomes dense the demand for intellectual qualities will become
more pressing, and cannot be satisfied by the amount which
is expended in public life and the professions. And this
demand is in due time answered. For in the natural course
of things, political life and the professions become crowded to
excess, and the various departments of knowledge begin to be
filled up.




CHAP. I.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                    21
CHAPTER I.
GENERAL VIEWS AND DIFFICUILTIES OF TIE SCIENCE OF
GOVERNMENT.
AMIDST the general progress which the human mind has
made during the last two hundred years, there is one science
which has remained nearly stationary; and that is the philosophy of government.*  It is true that all our knowledge is
deduced from facts; and, it is equally true, that it is not in
our power to create any one of those facts. The principles
which go to make up what we denominate a science, are nothing more than the philosophy of facts; and until the facts are
given, we cannot find the principles. But it is remarkable
that during the period I have referred to, a wider range of
facts has been laid open to human observation and scrutiny,
than in any period of similar duration in the history of our
race. For if we commence with the year 1642, in the midst of
the great struggle between liberty and power in Great Britain,
and come down to the present day, we shall find that nearly
all the great revolutions in human affairs, which have sensibly
affected the social organization, the structure of government,
and the functions of rulers, are crowded into that compass.
The inquiry, therefore, is not only the most natural in the
world, but it forces itself irresistibly upon us, why, in the
midst of so great and so general a movement of the human
* The intelligent reader is no doubt familiar with the distinction between art and science. The first is the result of our experience, however
limited that may be. The second is the repository of those great principles which are deduced from all experience. The first therefore necessarily precedes the last. It contains the rule in the concrete, while the
last contains it in the abstract, or in a philosophical form. In Quintilian's
time, it was a question, whether oratory was a science, or an art. At the
present day, I presume, no one will deny that government is both an art
and a science.




22               NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
mind, the scieDce of government has seemed to stand still.
It can never be necessary to know all possibly existing facts;
otherwise no part of knowledge would ever be brought to
completeness.
Several causes may be assigned for the slow progess of the
s6ience. The first consists in its intrinsic difficulties. There
is no branch of knowledge which to so great an extent demands the application of abstract truth to particular facts;
none in which the facts are so diversified, and so difficult to
reduce to general rules.  The very circumstance, therefore,
that the two last centuries have been so prolific of materials,
that they have afforded such an immense accumulation of
facts, creates an impediment. Without these we cannot proceed a step, and yet with them the greatest powers of analysis
are baffled in the endeavor to trace out those principles which
shall everywhere be regarded as forming the great elements
of the science. I can easily imagine that very many of the
most thoughtful minds, both in Europe and America, have
occupied a whole lifetime in surveying, with intense interest
andlan eagle eye, the changes which society and government
have undergone in the last sixty or seventy years, and yet have
recoiled firom the attempt to reduce into a system such a vast
mass of experience.
The second reason which I would assign is, that government
is the science not only of what is, and what ought to be, but
in addition to these, of what may be made to be also. It thus
unites in itself the difficulties of all other sciences, and conducts to inquiries more complicated than any one of them
singly. We can create no new facts, but we may vary indefinitely the combinations of those which are already known.
If it is a painful effort, therefore, to apply abstract truths to
particular facts, the difficulty is very much increased when we
desire to make an entirely new disposition of those facts;
when, for instance, we wish to alter existing institutions, and
to give a new form to the whole, or to some part Of the government.
Another impediment to the advancement of the science has
arisen from the extreme backwardness which both writers and
statesmen have constantly discovered in speaking out all that
they know and believe. It is supposed that there are a great




CHAP. I.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                    23
many secrets in government which will not bear to be divulged
to the generality of mankind. We have read of the secret and
the open doctrine of the ancient philosophers. Some things
they revealed to the multitude, while others were hidden from
all but a select few. The same custom existed among some of
the ancient fathers;` although it has been endeavored to be
explained and palliated by eminent ecclesiastical writers.  But
the practice was by no means confined to the ancients.  It has
existed from all time, and has prevailed extensively, though
not avowedly, among the philosophers and politicians of modern times. It is now beginning to fall into  disrepute, since
what are termed the multitude are increasing so fast in knowledge arid information, that it is no longer an easy matter to
keep any secrets, and since, on that very account, the disclosure can be productive of no detriment.  For although the
first effect, of finding out many things which were blefore hidden, is to make us fear nothing, not even the most violent
changes; yet the ultimate effect is to make us fear many
things, and to show us precipices and hindra nces at every step
which we take.
The last cause which I shall mention as retarding the progress of the science is, that in many instances the iminds which
are particularly fitted to extend its bounds are withdrawn from
speculation into the field of active life. Profound thoug!lt,
the ability to take the philosophical view, which belongs to
things the most common and familiar, joined to a keeii insight
into men's character and dispositions, are necessary to penetrate into the principles of the science.  But he whl.o possesses
these qualities is very apt to be won over to one o(r other of
the great parties which share the mastery of thle coultry.
The field of speculation, the field of inmagination, and the field
of actions' divide between themselves the empire of mnan's exertions. No one has been able to compass one of these in a
lifetime; while the sense of enjoyment which is derilved from
mixing'g in active life is so much greater than is afforded. by abstract speculation, that few minds have sufficient fortitude to
* "Somlte of the Fathers held that wholly -without breach of duty, it is
allowed to the teachers, and heads of the Christian church, to employ artifiees, to intermingle truth with falsehood." Riboff. Programme of the
Doctrine and Discipline of the Fathers.




24              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BooK I.
forego the first for the sake of the more brilliant and durable
fame which attends the last.
Writers on political philosophy have for the most part employed themselves in studying what is termed the mechanism
of government, rather than in unfolding the structure of society. This is often the cause of great infirmity in the most
ingenious speculations; since without pursuing the last course,
we can neither thoroughly decipher existing institutions, nor
see our way clearly in binding together the general principles
which are fairly deducible from them. All governments are
to a great degree dependent upon the manners, habits, and
dispositions of the people among whom they subsist. This
connection is closer and more striking where the institutions
are democratic; and as the American constitutions are the
only example of the thorough establishment of such institutions, it is no wonder the error, I have referred to, has prevailed so extensively in the old world. It is both our privilege and our misfortune, that our knowledge is so completely
bounded by our experience: our privilege, because we are
withheld fromz a multitude of visionary, and fruitless expedients to better our condition, and our misfortune, because we
are sometimes inclosed in such a narrow circle of experience,
as to remove us from the contemplation of a world of new facts
which are transpiring beyond us.
The reason then why it is of so much importance to examine
and understand the structure of society, and not merely the
machinery of government, is because at the present day, more
than at any former period, the political institutions are molded
by the manners. It is true, every form of government may
strictly be said to depend upon the constitution of societyupon the social organization in which it has taken root. But
this dependence is of a totally different character in different
countries. In some, the manners exert a positive influence;
while in others, they have properly a negative influence only.
In a commonwealth, where the standard of popular intelligence is high, and no impediment exists to the exercise of
that popular authority which rightfully springs from such a
state, the people may truly be said to create and to uphold
the government. On the contrary, where the population is
sunk in ignorance and apathy, government assumes the char



CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 25
acter of a self-existing institution, for there is no power beyond
to direct and control it. In one instance, the will of society
impresses itself as an active power upon the institutions, both
ordaining and controlling them: in the other, for defect of will,
the government is simply permitted to be what chance, or circumstances, originally made it. The political institutions of
Russia, and the United States, equally depend upon the social
organization; but in the former the influence is negative, in
the latter it is direct and positive. In the former, the people,
by their inaction, contribute to rear the fabric of despotism;
in the last, they have created free institutions. It follows,
that in proportion as the influence is of a positive character,
will the institutions incline to the form of free government:
for there may be every degree of this influence, stamping the
greatest variety upon different schemes of government. Thus
the English people are distinguished for the enjoyment of a
greater degree of liberty than the French; and the last have
made such noble advances in the same career during the
last twenty years, as to place their government entirely in advance of the Spanish or Portuguese. Sometimes a positive
influence is exerted upon one part of the government; one department undergoes a fundamental change, while others remain untouched. In other instances, no great alteration is
made; the theory of the government continues as before; but
such is the stringency and force of that invisible agent which
we term public opinion, that the conduct and behavior of all
public men, the tone and temper of the public administration,
are materially improved.
The legislature is that department which is apt to be first.
molded by the direct intervention of the popular will. It becomes a representative body, long before it occurs to any one
that it is possible to render the executive and judiciary elective also. The legislature seems to touch more extensively, if
not more immediately, upon the interests of society than any
other department; and it is the first, therefore, to which development is given. The judiciary would appear to have quite
as intimate a connection with the business, the daily transactions of the people, as the legislature; but as its functions are
supposed to consist simply in making application of a set of
ready made rules, and therefore to be inconsistent with the




26               NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
attainment of any substantive power, it does not engage public attention so early, nor attract so general an interest, as it
is entitled to do.
One great end which legislators in constructing government
have proposed to accomplish, is so to adjust the parts of which
it is composed, that they may act as checks upon one another.
This scheme has given rise to the theory of checks and balances. But hardly any one has adverted to a balance of a
very different kind, without which the structure of the government must forever be faulty, and its practical working inconsistent with its theory. I allude to that great balance
which, in a society rightly constituted, is maintained between
the government and the power out of the government. It is
owing to the great alterations which the social and political
organization has undergone in very modern times, that this
new fact in the history of political philosophy has escaped attention; at any rate, that a precise and definite place has not been
assigned to it by those who have treated of government. The
elevation of the lower orders, the formation of a great middle
class, a thing but of yesterday, the creation of a genuine public opinion, have wrought changes in the composition of government corresponding with those in the structure of society.
Because the legislative, executive and judicial departments
comprehend that share of authority which is organized, and
n,hich assumes a visible and determinate form, it has sometimes been supposed that they contain the sumn total of the
political power of the community; but it is a matter for curious
inquiry, to say the least, whether the outward force which
sometimes resides in society, no matter whether we arbitrarily
range it under the head ot liberties and franchises, has not
risen to the rank of a substantive power; whether, in short,
it has not become a new wheel in the machinery of the government. Those departments do indeed exercise the administrative authority of the state; and if they were left to themselves, and permitted to use power without a constant and active control on the part of the people, they would constitute
the government, in the largest signification of the world. The
extent to which that control exists is the single circumstance
which at first determines the form of any particular governmient,, and afterwards gives a direction to all its movemuents.




CeltP. I.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 27
If it is extremely feeble, the government will be a monarchy
or oligarchy, in the mnost unrestricted sense; if it is moderate
in its operation, the mixed form of limited monarchy, or a tempered aristocracy, will grow up; and if very strong, it will
give rise to free institutions, or a representative republic. If
it could be conceived to be all powerful, it would not introduce
the licentiousness of an unbridled democracy, but would rather
supersede the necessity of all government. Wherever democracy in its extreme form exists, the control of society at large
is very small, instead of being very great; and therefore it is
that such a government never has more than a temporary existence; it soon degenerates into an absolute government.
As the power I have spoken of as residing out of the government, and in the society, represents for the most part a
moral force, it may be supposed that I have assigned it too
important a place in regarding' it as a new wheel in the political machinery. But they who undertake to expound the
ordinary theory of checks and balances, do not rely so much
on the physical force which is exercised by the departments
of government separately, as upon a set of moral causes
which are recognized as belonging to human nature, and
which, as they are known to operate upon men as individuals,
are with equal certainty expected to act upon them,when
they are made public rulers. And with the same propriety,
in order to form a just notion of that species of balance I
have referred to as existing between the government and the
power out of the government, it is not necessary to consider
the people as constantly invested with an armed force. The
general tendency, at the present day, is to substitute moral
power in the place of physical force; not because it is more
convenient, but because it is more efficacious. The profound
tranquility which has been enjoyed by the American government-a tranquility so remarkable as to constitute a new fact
in the history of society-will easily lead us to comprehend
how a check exercised upon so large a scale may be of so
great importance; how it is that an invisible, but ever active
power, which the term public opinion is of too narrow a
meaning to give a competent idea of, may be sufficient to determine the form of the government, and after it is created,
to superintend all its movements. The tendency of which I




28              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK I.
have spoken, may at some future day, be carried so far as to
render it doubtful which is the government proper, the official
agents who administer the public affairs, or the more complex
machinery which presides over them, and retains each department in its proper sphere.
Writers have divided governments into various classes. The
most usual division is into monarchy, aristocracy and democracy. This classification has been adopted, not merely in consequence of the different manner in which those governments
are put together; but proceeding upon a more comprehensive
view, and considering each of them as founded in certain
general and fundamental principles of human nature, those
writers have treated the classification as a philosophical one of
the highest importance. It is sometimes difficult to distinguish between an historical fact and a philosophical truth.
That governments have existed under every variety of form,
is an undoubted fact; and that their existence may be accounted for from well known causes, is equally certain. But
what would be thought of the ethical philosopher, who ranged
the virtues and vices under the same head, because they all
have their root in certain principles of human nature? The
error in both instances is precisely the same. There can be
but one legitimate form of government, although there may
be ever so many varieties, which force or accident has given
birth to.
If I ventured to make a classification, it would be into the
natural and artificial forms, considering a representative republic as the only example of the first, and every other species as coming under the second division. By arranging a
truth in the same list with a number of errors, it loses the
distinct importance which belongs to it, and ceases to be regarded as a truth. The aim of the writer is necessarily imperfect and unsatisfactory. Even admitting that it were absolutely impracticable to introduce free institutions into every
country, that does not prevent their being considered as the
only legitimate form of government, no more than the impossibility, if it exists, of engrafting the arts and refinement,
which are found among the English and American people,
upon the wandering tribes of Africa or America, forbids us
from treating civilization and savageism, not merely as differ



CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                29
ent, but as two opposite states. The great end to be attained
by holding up some principles and some institutions as just
and true, and others as the reverse, is to quicken and animate
both individuals and states in their efforts to abjure the former, and to cultivate the last. The ancestors of the English
and American people roamed like savages through the forests
of Britain and Germany, and lived for centuries after under a
stern and cruel despotism. The people whom Cmsar and
Tacitus describe as clad in skins, and sacrificing human victims, seemed to have no fairer chance of being raised to the
arts of civilization, which their descendants have attained,
than' the great majority of rude tribes now in existence. By
regarding and habitually treating some actions and some institutions as right, and others as wrong, we make a considerable step towards rendering the former attainable, since it is
of the very essence of right that it is something which can be
reduced to practice. The distinction, then, is no longer between the possible and the impossible, but between things
practicable and things which are only difficult to be attained.
Government, when not founded upon the will of the people,
is necessarily an imperfect institution, because, failing in the
commencement to represent their interests, it is almost sure
eventually to be placed in direct opposition to them. Power,
where it is condensed in a comparatively small class of the
community, is obliged in self-defense to strengthen, in all
possible ways, the influence and authority of that class; and,
to the same extent, to detract from the importance of all other
orders of men. It is not a reasonable answer to this to be
told that abundant causes for the existence of such a mode of
government may be found in the actual constitution of society
in some countries, since there is no form of vice, however
gross and detestable, which may not be accounted for and
justified in the same way. We recognize the correctness of
the historical deduction, but reject the general principle which
is sought to be derived from it.
The political institutions of a country may be viewed as
fulfilling two distinct ends: the one to administer all public
business, the other to bind society together, in other words, to
uphold civilization. But distinct as these two offices are, that
constitution of government which is best fitted to promote




30               NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BooI l.
the one, is also best calculated to advance the other. The
wants and weakness of individuals give rise to the institution
of government, and government, in turn, becomes the instrument of furthering the general improvement of society. The
mere material interests which the public agents are appointed
to superintend-the protection of property, the collection and
disbursement of taxes, the guarding against foreign invasion
-are not so absolutely connected with the moral and intellectual condition of the people but what we may suppose the
former to be competently managed, without any remarkable
improvement in the latter. But it is certain, that the right
constitution of government, joined to an upright and enlightened administration of what we denominate public affairs,
does contribute wonderfully to impart freedom, activity and
intelligence to the general mind; and it is still more true that
the diffusion of intelligence, the spread of the arts and sciences, and the growth of a vigorous morality, do produce a
marked influence upon the working of the political machine.
The wider the basis on which government is made to standthat is, the more the ore thoroughly it represents the interests of all
orders of men —the firmer the purpose and the more unremitting the efforts of individuals in improving their condition.
The mnost effectual way then of raising the intellectual condition of' the people, is to connect their interests so closely
with their improvement that these may be mutually dependent on each other; to throw knowledge in the way of every
one, that it may become of daily use and indispensable application in both public and private affairs; so that men in the
pursuit of their daily avocations, and government in the discharge of its official duties, may be compelled to run the
same career of improvement. In this way the maintenance
of civilization, and the more direct aim which the institutions of government contemplate, are both answered at the
same time.




CIHAP. II.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  31
CHAPTER  II.
POLITICS A SCIENCE.
THIrs is the title of one of Mr. EHume's essays. But the
time had not arrived for the execution of the task he proposed
to himself. The most highly gifted individual is as much
dependent for the success of his speculations upon the period
when he lives, as upon the force of his understanding. The
reason wihy this is so, is that that period contains the sunm of
facts with which he is conversant. All the events which had
before transpired, as well as those which are contemporary,
are gathered tog'ether, at that period; but all future events,
as well as the future development of present events, are withdrawn fromn his view. All human speculations, in order to be
just, must have a foundation in facts. The whole office of the
human understandin g, consists in a true, and thorough appreciation of these facts; and if these are not given, or are imperfectly developed, our knowledge will be correspondingly
imperfect. N9 one in the reign of Louis XIV., or even in the
first half of the reign of Louis XV., could have predicted the
events of the French revolution, although so near at hand:
nor could any one in the reign of James I., much less of
Elizabeth, have foreseen the English revolution in the time of
Charles I. The process of thought is exceedingly gradual,
and is never completed by one mind, but by a succession of
minds. But it is not true, as is very commonly said, that the
most elevated understandings never rise much above the level
of thought in their day. The great employment of such
minds, consists in the analysis, and generalization of facts.
These are the distinguishing faculties of men; and there is at
every period, a sufficient accumulation of facts, to give exercise to those faculties.
If politics is a science, it must be in consequence of both
society, and government, being subjected to certain fixed laws.
These will not vary; but the condition of both society, and




32               NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOI I.
government may, when it will be incumbent on us, not to
change the principles, but only the application of them. The
laws of society have been confounded with the conditions
under which they take place; and it is in consequence of this
confusion, that the notion of law is regarded as inapplicable:
society is looked upon as a jumble of elements, accidentally
put together, and politics is denied to be a science.
The first principle I shall notice, is that of progression.
This is manifest in the individual; the different periods of
infancy, youth, and manhood, denoting a successive development of the faculties. But the individual, after attaining
maturity, dies, while society, which is an aggregate of individuals, continues to advance; and then reacting upon individuals, elevates them in the same proportion. There can be
no progress in the collective body, unless there is a capacity
for progress in the individual. But although the capacity
may exist, it is dependent for its development upon outward
ifluences. This is the case, even with our secondary faculties, which would be null, without the presentation of external
objects to rouse them into activity. Among collections of individuals, small or large, we see this exemplified, by the influence of conversation, and discussion. These contribute to
sharpen, and invigorate the faculties, by rousing, and stimulating them, and by presenting new facts, and new views,
which afford a wider field to expatiate in. As the population
increases in density, the advantage will become greater and
greater. The relations among individuals, among associations
of individuals, private, civil, and political; the relations of all
to society at large, of society to government, and government
to society, create such a complication of interests, desires, and
aspirations, that society is by successive steps, transformed
from the rudimental, into the highly civilized state. The individual dies, but society does not. The individual, can avail
himself, for a limited time only, of the mass of knowledge, and
experience, which preceded him: society a thousand years after,
is assisted by all which has been accumulated in the interval:
so that there is no proportion between the progress of the two;
since the last proceeds with a constantly accelerated speed.
There is one remarkable fact however, never before noticed,
with regard to the progress of the race. It is, that it is only




CHAP. II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  33
after it has reached a certain point, that it gives any signs of
even a capacity for progress. Italy, and Greece, were for ilany
centuries, in a barbarous state; and all the civilized nations
of modern Europe, remained an incalculable time, in an absolute, stationary state. The contact with iRoman civilization,
in consequence of the constant emigration of great numbers
of individuals from Italy, first gave a rousing shake to the
population; and it is from that period only, that we must date
the first steps towards advancement. This progress was afterwards interrupted by successive inroads of barbarians; and
it was only after a long period of fermentation among the
elements of society, that it commenced a regular march toward
improvement. This remarkable phenomenon, of whole nations, remaining in an absolute, stationary state, for thousands
of years, can only be accounted for, by supposing that until
the intellectual faculties proper, are roused into activity, there
can be no progress beyond the sensual condition of the race.
Animals are incapable of improvement and progress, because
they do not possess the intellectual faculties; and the human
race, are condemned to an immovable condition, until the intellectual faculties, which it does possess, are stimulated to
exertion. The Asiatic nations present a still different case.
They attained a certain degree of civilization, at a period
when nearly all Europe was in a barbarous state; and have
been stationary ever since. This must in part, be attributed
to an inferior mental organization. We see an extreme diversity in the intellectual faculties of individuals, in one and the
same nation, however elevated the standard of improvement
may be. The Persians however, although belonging to the
Caucassian race, are nearly as backward, as the Chinese, and
Japanese. But they have had as little intercourse with those
nations which are most highly advanced, and among whom
the intellectual faculties have been powerfully stimulated.
Tence, the influence, which the mingling of a highly civilized
people with one less civilized, has in quickening the progress
of the last. It operates, like the successive stages of society
upon one and the same people. The decided progress which
the Russians have made since the opening of the present cenrtury, is attributable solely, to the predominance of the German
element.
3




3-                NATURE AND TENDENT(Y                [BOOle I.
The second principle I will notice, is the constant tendency
of the social feelings, that is, those feelings which are common to, and  shared in by all, to prevail over those which
are personal and selfish. The propensities are undoubtedly
stro'nger in the individual, than the sentiments; but they are
not sympathized with by other men, to anything like the same
extent.  However some men may delight in the indulgence of
their sensual feelings, others having the same propensities, do
not therefore sympathise with them; but the reverse. But
all sympathise with the sentiments of honor, integrity, benevolence, &e. This distinction is of great importance, and has
never been noticed.  It discloses the admirable provision
which is ma(de, for causing the higher parts of our nature to
repress, and discipline the lower. If it were not for this constitution of man, —civilization, society, government would be
ilijmpossible.  Humnan affairs, would be delivered over to the
wildest disorder and licentiousness.  The immense force which
is given to the social feelings, in consequence of their reflecting the feelings of all, acts as a perpetual check upon the
propensities which are personal, or selfish; and gives them
undcisputed authority among collections of individuals.  And
a.s this process is not the result of our will, but depends upon
our structure, it is invariable in its operation. Thus is laid
the foundation of a great law of society, which increases in
strenuth as the population increases in density, and the interests of society become more complicated anud more difficult to
managce. The process may be slow, but it, is certain. It is
discernable in the history of every European country. The
intestine disorders which formerly existed in England, France,
and Germany, were occasioned by the struggle between these
two antagonistic forces, the selfish, and the social. The struggle has wonderfally abated in those countries, as well as in
Prussia., Holland, Switzerland &c. It continues with great
force in Italy, Spain, and Portugal.  But the advantagoe is
incalculable, when there is a tendency however slow, to the
predominance of the higher over the lower part of our affective nature.  It is a great achievement, when society has been
reclaimed from  the incessant discord, which once prevailed,
and has emerged into a state of high civilization.  This tendency of the collective feeling-if I may use the expression



CrhAP. II]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                    35
to gain the ascendancy, is constantly reinforced by the increased reflexion which takes place: public sentiment is ren.
dered stronger, by becoming more intellectual; thxe civil, as
well as the political institutions, fall into a nlore orderly
arrangement; and the fabric of government is constructed
with more skill, foresight and circumspection.
Hence the third principle, that the character of all political
institutions depends upon the structure of society. For what
is termned government, is only a development of the elements
which are found in society. The two make up one whole; the
one being the foundation, the other the superstrct1ure, which
springs from it. Leaves and blossoms, as well as the stalk,
make up the idea of a plant. Without the former, it is a
dead, not a living body; and without civil governmlent, any
large association of men would be an imperfectly formed
society.  Government, and society are commonly coeeived of
as two distincet and independent institutions, in consequence
of the g-reat difference observable in the forms of government
of different countries, and in consequence of the supposed
ability of the lawgiver to alter and modify them at pleasure.
All the mnodifications which are ever made il the frame x ork
of governm ient, are guided by determinate laws; and the great
diversity of governments in different countries, is ascribabie
to a corresponding difference in the structure of society. It
is very common to witness political changes —that is, changes
in the mechanistBm, or form of government; but these never
succeed unless they are accompanied by a change in the social
organiztation. VWhether a political revolution of that character shall be permanent, or temporary, depends therefore upon
the fact, w h7ether society has undergone such a change as to
render success iossible.  The alterations projected in the
English government, by Pyne, Selden, &c., in 1625; those
projected in France in 1789, by Brissot, MIalouet and 2Iourier,
and afterwards by the Abbe Sieges, were arbitrary or premature. BLut those proposed by Somers, and Godollphin, in 1688,
were neither arbitrary nor premature. The social revolution
in England had commenced half a century before, and was
thean matured   The eminent men who took the lead in the
English convention, were not masters of circumlstances.  They
were themselveys impelled by circumstances. They were edu



3G               NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
cated and trained in the new society which had grown up. A
great middle class had for the first time made its appearance;
and they were themselves born and educated in that class.
Thus the intervention of individuals, in even modifying the
political institutions, is dependent upon the social condition
at the time. Abundant proof of the truth of these principles
is to be found everywhere, and at all times. Hamilton, Madison, and their illustrious associates, were moulded by the
society in which they lived. It was not in their power, to treat
society as carte blanche, and to write upon it any characters
which they pleased.  Wherever society has undergone a
marked, and decisive change, an alteration either in the formn
or spirit of the government, or both, has invariably followed.
In France, the spirit of the government, that is, the temper
with which it is administered, is totally different from what it
was under the Nalois, and Bourbon dynasties.
The fourth principle is a deduction from the last, as each is
from the one which precedes it, while all are ultimately referable to the first. The changes in the composition of a government, never keep exact pace with those in society. But it is
necessary to notice a distinction, which has just been hinted
at; between the form, and the spirit of a government. The
last, more readily, and at an earlier period, Ihan the first, conforms itself to the genius of society. The reason why this is
so, is that changes in the social organization, take place silently, and gradually. Nothing is accomplished by a single leap:
but in order to pass from one form of government to another,
or to make any material change in its mechanism, direct and
positive intervention is necessary. The first is the work of
time, perhaps of centuries, the second is accomplished at a
particular time.; but the indications whether that particular
time has or has not arrived, may be very deceptive. If the
conservative element is weak, political changes will be precipitated; if it is strong, they will be retarded for an indefinite
period. It is only after the changes in society have become so
numerous and unmistakable as to compel public attention,
that a single leap is taken. Social changes affect the whole of
the population, but political-,changes are effected by a comparatively small number. In order that the progress in both
should keep exact pace., each successive change in the struc



CHAP. II.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  37
ture of society, should be followed by a corresponding change
in that of the government. But this is impossible; for the
last, is the result of experience and observation; and these
are only matured by time. In one case, the changes consist
in a great number of particulars, running through a considerable period: the other, consisting in an analysis, and estimate
of these, requires single acts to be performed, and that at tihe
propitious time. But a change in the spirit of a government,
may take place more quickly; for no positive dislocation of
the machinery of government is necessary. It is the transition state, from a change in the social organization, to a
change in the structure of a government. The temper with
which the governments of western Europe are administered,
is very different from what it was formerly. It is not necessary
to go back to the first fifteen centuries, when all Europe was a
bedlam. It is only necessary to turn our eyes to the Europe
of the seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries.
The slowness with which all social changes take place, appears to oppose great obstacles in the way of remodeling the
government, even after society is prepared for it. But it cannot be otherwise; and there is always a good reason, as well
as an adequate cause, for whatever must be. The longer the
changes are postponed (indefinitely they cannot be) the more
complete will be the preparation for them. The initiatory
steps will consist in a change in the spirit of the governllent,,
or the temper with which it is administered, then in enlarging the basis of representation, and eligibility to office; int
a separation of the regal, from the executive power, thie abolition of the hereditary principle of the nobility, especially,
where they are very numerous, the abolition of primogeniture, and of an established church. By these various steps,.
the minds of a large, and enlightened class will be gradually
weaned from  the grotesque institutions, under which they
lived. They may then, without trembling, approach an innovation, which their ancestors contemplated with dismay. And,
when these things are accomplished, the difficulty is surmounted. In a country in which the groundwork of society is
democratic in character, these difficulties will not occur.
Neither the structure of the government, nor the spirit which
presides over it, will exhibit the same discrepancies.  This




38                NATURE AND TENDENCY                 [BOOK I.
can only happen, however, in a community founded by a race
which has attained a point more or less elevated in the scale
of civilization, and whose position on1 the globe has exempted
it fron  any serious disturbance from  without. But such a
community will itself be progressive, and highly so. And
changes in its institutions, will unudoubtedly take place: but
these will generally be in the laws, and not in the fundamental ordinance of the government.  Compared with those
which mnay take place in other countries, they will be as molehills to mountains.  Thus in all the States which compose the
American Union, alterations have been made in the basis of
representation, the electoral franchise, eligibility to office, the
appointing power; and in those where an established religion
existed, it has been abolished. Less change has taken place
in the spirit of the government, because the constituted powers were alre ady in close agreement with the manners. But
even there a difference is observable in the tone with which
public affairs have at different periods been conducted. In
1798, when party spirit ran high, AMr. Madison, the leader of
the, republlican party, made this memorable speech to William:iSmith, the lleader of the federal party: "6 The measures which
ycur party are pursuing, may all be right, but the mtaner in
which they are insisted upon, and carried, will assuredly ruin
you."  It was the manner, the spirit in which lpublic affairs
were conceived, and administered, that gave, most Offense.
For during the war of 1812 and under a republican administration, these measures were repeated. 1" When you have passed:this law  (alluding perhaps to the stamp duty) you will have
described the whole circle of measures, adopted by the administration of John Adams," was the speech of a Senator to
his own party.
5. The direct agency, which the social orgaynization had in
rearing and moulding the political institutions, is very perceptible afterwards.  It first presides over the fornmation of constitutions; and after they are ordained, exercises a decisive
influence in upholding them; and thus contributes to maintain, as well as to' found order. It is evident, that if this influence were not in perpetual activity, society would take a
retrograde course, and the most skillfully coitrived government would fall to pieces. In pure monarchy, or aristocracy,




CHAP. IH.]        OF FIREE INSTITUTIONS.                   39
this force is very feeble, in constitutional monarchy, it is
strong; in representative government, it is carried to the utmost.
6. The political institutions react upon society. As they are
a reflection of the manners, habits, and intelligence of the
population, a close connexion roust exist between the tOwo.
Or we may conceive of the social and political institutions, as
constituting one whole, in which the parts necessarily act upon
one another. In this way, not oily is a just agree;ment Inaini
tained between them, but immense force is given to public
opinion. In this process of action and reaction, each agent
possesses an advantage peculiar to itself. The springs of
government are moved by b comuparatively small number of
persons; but the active power of the community is condltlenseld
in their hands.  On the other band, public opinion.l, bingl tlhe
organ of a great multitude, surrounds the public utagictratcs
on all sides, and coerces by dint of a moral force, which is
irresistible.  In those countries, where public opin)ion does
not represent a large and intelligent body, deep host.ility, instead of a salutary rivalry, will grow up among the two. But
in consequence of the great principle of progression, which is
inherent in every civilized society, the influence of the social,
upon the political power, is constantly upon the increase.  n11
this way only can we account for the fact, that all the European communities, have gradually emerged fToom their uncouth
and antique institutions, and that in those which are monst advanced, public opinion has become a most formidable instruiment. The reason why, and the manner in which government
reacts upon society, are evident. In the preceding chapter, I
alluded to the double office which government performs. 1st,
in holding together the elements of civilization; in affordinog
a strong bond of connexion between the parts. 2d, in administering public affairs. Either of these endows it with
great influence.  The first is less observed th-an the second,
because it is silent in its operation; but every one will recog'nize its agency, the moment it is mentioned. As to the s'econd, the compllicated machinery which is necessary, in order
to administer public af'airs, with any degree of judo.lenut,
discloses another influence equally powerful, and in cotstalnt
activity. The institution of the three departments of gov



40               NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I,
ernment, with the numberless administrative officers attached
to them, shows clefarly, that although all political institutions
are the offspring of the manners, yet that from the moment
they are created, they exercise a most potent influence upon
society.
The criminal code alone, with judicial magistrates to expound, and executive officers to enforce it, would be a sufficient
illustration of the great power, which goverhment possesses
in reacting upon society; for its office does not consist merely
inl the punishment of offences; but by displaying a constant
vigilance, and an imposing authority, in suppressing them, it
disseminates, and gives a practical character to some of the
most fundamental principles of morality. The amount of influence thus exercised upon the whole population, mnust rest upon
conjecture; but we know enough of human nature, to understand that it must be marked, and decisive. The action of the
legislative power upon society, is clear enough. But it is much
greater in the confederate, than in the consolidated form of
government, in consequence of the division of the territory
into distinct states, each possessing a legislative body which
superintends its domestic interests.  The machinery thus
created is more wide-spread, and more penetrating, and gives
ten fold force to the power with which government reacts upon
society. The political, and civil codes, with their numerous
ramifications, give compactness and coherence to the confused
rules of conduct which would otherwise exist, and contribute
to produce that unity of opinions and interests, which converts
an association into a society. The diversified form in which
the administration of public affairs is seen, contributes a great
school of conduct, both moral and intellectual. So that if without society, there would be no government, without government, there would be no lasting society.
The country in which representative government is firmly
established, in which the social and political organization are
in harmony, possesses these advantages in the.highest degree.
The political institutions being the offspring of a public opinion, more wide-spread and more enlightened than elsewhere,
will exert a more profound and extensive influence upon society.
The reason why the city of Paris has for several centuries
domnineered over all France, is that all political power has




CHAP. II]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                   41
been condensed in Paris. It is there, that despotism  has
forged its weapons; and it is there also, that the most formidable parties have been organized to pervert its authority.
The systen of representation, which has always existed in
England, and America, has rendered government more wise,
and more beneficent, and has diffused its influence over the
whole of society. Power has been distributed, instead of
being condensed. The principle of universal suffrage, which
has been adopted in France, and which at first, seemed so full
of peril to the institutions, has succeeded beyond expectation,
because it has given a preponderance to the rural population,
the conservative part of society, and has thus enfeebled the
power and influence of the government, as well as of the Parisian mobocracy. The systemn is still very imperfect, the
legislative power in its structure, is very defective; but this
can onuy be remedied when the social improvement has made
much further advances, and the constitution of the executive
has been remodeled in accordance with them.
-7th. The rise of parties in a state, is never dependant upon
accident, but is determined by causes, which act with more or
less force, at particular stages of society. No country, except
a pure despotism, or a close aristocracy, is entirely without
them. They have existed for many centuries in some form or
other, personal, religious, or political, (for this is the order in
which they appear,) in almost all the governments of western
Europe. As they are produced by causes which are inherent
in society, their character will depend upon the structure of
that society. Political opinions of some kind or other, exist
in all communities, sometimes relating to the fundamentals of
government, at others, to the diversified wants and interests
of the population. They may be suppressed by an absolute
government; but even then, these mute opinions are more or
less felt, and exert some appreciable infl ence. WVhen society
has made considerable advances, a public opinion will be
created, and will cause itself to be heard. And then parties,
properly so called, will make their appearance.  It is in the
reign of James the First, that symptoms of the rise of a middle
class in England are first perceptible. And it is during that
reign, that we are able to date the first formation of genuine
political parties in modern Europe. The elevation of the




42               NATURtE AND TENDENCY               [BooK I.
people, gave birth to a country party, in contradistinction to the
court party, and it is through the instrumentality of the first,
that constitutional government has been established in England. The laws of society act with as much certainty, as the
laws of matter, but they are not always so easily apprehended.
The party of the Fronde, which appeared in France, soon after
the rise of the country party in England, is the next important
event, in the history of parties. It was almost contemporaneous with the great democratic party which in England succeeded to the country party, and revolutionized the government in 1648. Like the English party, it called in question
what were then considered the fundamental principles of government. BPut its leaders possessed none of the fervor, and
sincerity of the English patriots, and it effected nothing. The
mass of the population in France, was not as advanced a3 that
of England; and the Fronde succumbed to a power which had
more strength, and not less turpitude than itself. The popular
party in England, achieved nothing permanent, until the close
of the century. In France, nothing was accomplished until a
century later, and the revolution is still in progress.
Parties, then, depend for their existence and character upon
the constitution of society, upon the manners, as it is commonly termed; but more precisely, upon the dispersion of
knowledge, property, and power. They are therefore, more
distinctly formed in mixed government than in pure monarchy; and for the same reason, their organization is more
perfect in representative government.
As the existence of parties,depends upon causes so little
subjected to control, they will be governed by determinate
laws. They have a destination which they never fail to perform, and the agency of one or other of them, and very
frequently of all jointly, is either immediately, or in the end,
salutary. This would not be doubted if personal motives had
not so much to do with the operation of parties, and if the
designs of all parties were not sometimes so eminently unjust.
These produce vague, and confused notions, in relation to the
proper office of parties, and impress upon them, an almost
exclusively empirical character.  The propbsition, parties
have a destination, and their agency is ultimately salutary,
is seldom acceded to as a whole; but it is only as a whole,




CIIhAP. II]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  43
that the principle is a valuable one.:For personal motives
are also governed by determinate laws. Pym, and Hollis, ill
England, Brissot and Vergniand, in France, were jealous of
the priivileg'ed orders; they were personally annoyed by their
intrusion into the walks of private life. But their personal
feelingos were in accordance with the tone of public opinion.
The members who represented some of the small States, in the
convention wihich framed the constitution of the United States,
were from  personal motives, jealous of a powerful central
governmHnIt. But if their importance would be obscured by
the presence of such a government, the importance of the
States they represented, would be also.  The influence of personal motives is sometimes necessary, in order to give strength,
and concentration, to the public efforts, which are made in
great emergerncies: they may be as necessary in the culre of
political disorders, as the nost painful surgical   operations are
in the culre of physical maladies. If these were performed
from malig:nanlt motives, they would not be less beneficial.
The revolution in thle time of Charles the First, could not have
been achieved, and the way prepared for that of 16SS, without
a civil war; that of France, could not have been conducted
without enormous excesses. And it is remarkable, how all
such exceptional acts, gradually pass into oblivion, leaving the
turpitude of intlividuals in its original deformity, but indicating the neicessity, and the salutary character of the changes,
which were wrought. The American revolution was singularly
exempt from any atrocities; because the American people had
not, like a large portion of the French, been educated in the
school of depravity. F or the great object in France, was as
much to geBt  id of such creatures as Robespierre, Marat,
Legendre &co, as to expel the Bourbons and the noblesse from
power.
8th. It is not merely the influence, and agency of the predominant party -hich are important. The counteraction of the
opposing party, or parties, is also indispensable. This is evident from the fact, that all parties are liable to fall into
extreme opinions. An opinion is never apprehended so clearly,
as when it is pushed to an extreme. But it has never yet been
permitted to any party, to succeed to the extent of an extreme
opinion. The aggregate of parties in the state, and not merely




44               NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOIK I.
the one in the majority, compose the machinery by which public
affairs are for any considerable period, conducted. There
would be absolutely no machinery in the existence of more
than one party, if this were not the case. But no one ever
heard of any institution growing up in a state, and which has
been present during all public vicissitudes, which was without
significance and weight. The great office then, which is performed by a party in the minority, is to mitigate the extreme
opinions of the party in the majority, and to give greater consistency to the public measures. Each party is composed of
individuals, but a party supposes common views. That is,
views which are not entirely selfish. If this were not the
case, it would not be a party, but a collection of individuals.
But in addition to this, each party represents the substantial
interests of the whole community. In ordinary times, they
differ with regard to a particular course of policy; in extraordinary conjunctures, their differences are more serious. But
in all instances, except in revolutionary times, the views of all
are clearly connected with the interests which all parties represent; that is, with certain fundamental principles, which
neither party intends to disturb. The instances in which they
agree, are in comparison with those in which they differ as
fifty to one.
The influence exerted by a party in the minority, is not
always the same. It is shown sometimes, by converting the
minority into the majority; at other times, by gradually and
silently insinuating into the ranks of an extreme party, the
moderate views of the other party. A striking illustration of
this process is now before our eyes. The WVlig party of England, and the Democratic party in the United States, are now
transformed into conservative parties.
9th. As the character of the government depends unpon the
structure of society, and society is constantly progressive, we
may lay it down as a ninth principle, that all governmellts
tend to the republican form. Evenl if all do not ultimately
attain that form, they will all be sensibly improved by a constant tendency towards it. When it is said that society is
constantly progressive, the meaning is, that there is a constantly increasing tendency, from one generation to alother,
to an amelioration of the manners, to a diffusion of intelli



CHAP. II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                   45
gence, and to the dispersion of property. But these necessarily imply the constant advance of the bulk of the population;
that is, their growing elevation in the scales, and when this
has reached a certain point, the republican form of government is not only practicable but natural.
All the important changes in human affairs, whether affecting the individual, or society at large, have been of surpulsingly slow growth. A multitude of the commonest arts of life,
have only'recently been brought to perfection. Inventions,
and discoveries, which were accessible to the race, two thousand years ago, are only born of yesterday. This significant
fact indicates the constant presence, of the principle of progression, as affecting society in all its parts. If all the European governments have passed by gradual transitions, from
the wildest disorder, and the most brutal licentiousness, to the
civilized commonwealths which now exist, it can only be, because the sanme principle has been acting steadily, and inflexibly, upon all the elements of society. The spectacle which
Europe presents, of so many of its governments being converted from absolute, into constitutional monarchies, is a phenomenon of the same character, as the invention of the steam
engine, and the reaping machine. As the improvement which
civil government undergoes, depends upon agencies much more
complicated than the arts of industry, the progress made in
the former, may be said to be even more rapid than in the last.
For this very complication of all the causes which are at
work in the social body, renders the progress more steady, and
more certain, as every step taken, opens the way to still further advances. Society, after it has reached a certain point
in the scale of civilization, resembles a vast network, in which
all the parts are connected, and all mutually strengthen each
other. As then it has taken the human race so many centuries to pass through the hard and difficult discipline which
has resulted in its emancipation from despotic or anarchical
rule, mere length of time affords no presumption against further and greater advances, although these should be sometimes interrupted by the most alarming revolutions. The difference between the institutions -of the United States and
those of Europe, at the present day, is much less than between
the Europe of the fourteenth or fifteenth centuries, and the




46               NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOI I.
Europe of the nineteenth. It is true, that all the European
governments exhibit a more compact form than they ever did
before; and the reason is obvious. The strong democratic
element, which has been introduced into all of them  during
the present century, has contributed to fortify the authority
of the executive, in order that the community may be protected against the assaults of the lower classes.  The reader
then will mark the great difference between the preseint, and
former constitutions of those governments. Until very modern times, all power was condensed in the monarch, and this
power was employed for the purpose of protecting hiln from
all classes of society. A great middle class, a third estate,
has risen up, which has appropriated to itself a substantial
part of this power, and makes use of it for the purpose of
protecting its own rights. In order to do this, it 11not only
permits all the insignia of regal government to remain; it
adds strength to the executive authority, by covering it with
its own influence. But such is the connexion between the
middle and lower classes, that the elevation xx hich is obtained
by the former, redounds to the advantage of the last. And
thus the apparently singular phenomenon, that while all the
European governments present a more consolidated form than
at any former period, a greater amount of both civil andl political liberty is enjoyed, is easily explained. The throne is
stronger, the substantial part of the population has more
power and influence, and the lower classes are less addicted
to turbulance, than ever before. But this is evidently a turansition state. There is no reason to suppose that that the progress
of society will be suddenly arrested, when everything conspires to push it forward. There is every reason to believe
that it will continue with a steady pace. For the tendency is
to augment the middle class in a muach gren:ter piroportion
than either of the other classes. The vast enlargement of our
industrial pursuits places multitudes in a state of comfort,
and great numbers of others who would otherwise be ranged
among the lowest classes, are collected into manufactories and
workshops, where they are tamed, and disciplined to an orderly
life. The European commonwealths generally, will at some
future day, combine the two great elements of good government, the subjection of individuals to the public authority,




CHAP. II.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                    47
and the subjection. of the public authority to the aggregate
of individuals, or society at large. No fear need be entertained that free governments will not possess the requisite
ability to defend themselves against foreign agression. The
American and the Swiss republics have never been wanting
in this respect. But the military spirit, and regime, are evidently on the decline, not in consequence of any casual turn
which human affairs have taken; but in consequence of causes,
which affect deeply and permanently all classes. The vast
system of industry to which I have alluded, and which connects all orders of men is not maintained merely by r-eflexion;
it is supported by the most powerful instincts of our naturea;
by that veryT egotism, ambition, and love of power, which first
kindled the military spirit, and which have now found another
field in which to exhaust their activity. The system thus fortified, by both the higher and lower faculties of our nature,
cannot be easily broken up. The most reasonable conjecture
we can form is, that it will be permanent.; and that more
than any other cause, it will determine the habitual conduct
of men, in private life and in public associations.
10thn The principle of progression is inherent in a republic,
as well as in all other forms of government.  The human race
never attains a point so high, but what something still higher
is conceived, not only as possible, but practicable.  It is this
power of conceiving something beyond, attainable, an(l yet not
attained, which constitutes the moving spring of all human
improvement.  In representative goverment, the special experience which is afforded, while the system is in actual operation, and which is constantly applied to satisfy the diversified
wants ~nd interests of the community, is exhibited upon a
much larger scale, than in any other form of government, and
gives a visible form  to this principle of improvement.  A
republic has its successive periods of infancy, growth, and
maturity; und through the two first, it will be subjected to
many, though not to such severe vicissitudes as other governments. This is not surprising; for as the virtues of individuals, are in great part the offspring of their sufferings, and
infirmities, all the excellences, and benefits of government
must spring from  difficulties and dangers of some sort, in
public life. The conflict between public and private interest,




48               NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
the rivalry between the selfish, or personal, and the social
instincts, must exist in every form of society. And although
a democratic commonwealth affords the readiest means for
conciliating these opposite forces, the conflict will not be terminated, but will continue to harass the community; but at
the same time to lay open a valuable fund of experience, for
its future guidance.
The first, or initiative stage of the republican government,
will be one of great tranquility. This is a consequence of the
thinness of the population, the simplicity of the manners, and
the mild influence which the prominent men will have. This
is the time when we hear of a Solon, a Lycurgus, and a Numia.
This influence, however, will not be the same everywhere. In
a country where a great deal of practical knowledge already
exists, and a corresponding self-reliance is felt, the inhabitants
will be able to manage their own affairs. Hence, at the foundation of the American States, although the human mind
was deeply agitated by questions of civil and political liberty,
no individual exercised a supreme influence, but the people
went straight forward to the making of laws, and of every
other disposition, which the exigencies of society required.
The chief men did possess great influence; for knowledge is
power everywhere; but they were not invested with control,
and no one individual was selected to frame a body of laws.
The only instance of direct personal intervention occurred in
the case of the first constitution of New York. This was
drawn up by Mr. Jay; but unlike the constitutions of antiquity, it was submitted to a popular convention. The changes
it has undergone at different periods, indicate the great advantages derived from popular experience. The last constitution (that of 1846) shows a much clearer comprehension of
the wants and interests of the society for which is was framed:
it contains more exact and definite safeguards, for both public
and private rights, than either of the preceding ones.
The second period is marked by a wider dissemination of
knowledge, and property; a middle class is more clearly distinguished than before; and although the lower class has perceptibly increased, the influence of the former is predominant,
and becomes a strong guard against the incroachments of the
last. For it cannot be too often repeated that it is unneces



CHAP. II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                49
sary, even if it were possible, that the Whole population
should be equally elevated in the scale, in order to found, or to
maintain free institutions: it is unnecessary that the informed
and independent class should even be a majority: it is enough
if it is so large as to display an imposing and authoritative
influence in the state, and so united by interest with all other
classes, as to insure a just and equitable administration of
the laws. If when the moral force of the community is condensed in an inconsiderable part of the population, as it is in
constitutional monarchy, order is notwithstanding preserved,
a further augmentation of that force must add strength and
stability to the institutions. Public order is infinitely better
preserved in the European commonwealths than at any former
period, and it is precisely because the middle class have
greatly increased in nearly all of them.
In the second stage of a republic, there is an evident tendency to the growth of the democratic element; but simultaneously with it, a powerfully counteracting principle also rises
up, which constantly operates to restrain the aberrations of
the first: for then, knowledge and general education take a
fresh start; every year increases the fund of popular experience in public and private life, and affords practical proofs of
the benefit to be derived from an obedience to the laws. Up
to a certain point, force may be sufficient for the tolerable
preservation of order; but this clumsy machinery is out of
place when society has made great advances. It is then
necessary that the principle of spontaneous and willing obedience should take the place of forced obedience; not among
all classes, but among that substantial part of the population
which is now destined to command. The true meaning, then,
of that spread of active intelligence and speculative knowledge which are growing up side by side of the democratic
element, is that it is the corrective, created by that very
principle, of the disorders of society. The democratic element stimulates inquiry in every direction: but inquiry can
not continue long without accumulating both knowledge and
experience; and in this way a check is provided against the
excesses to which unlimited inquiry would otherwise lead. A
comparison of the state of popular knowledge fifty years ago,
and at the present day, would show that there has been a
4




50              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
most decisive improvement in the interval. When the Lutheran Reformation broke out, it threatened to turn society
upside down. For more than half a century, great numbers
of sects,-founded upon the wildest principles, threatened to
tear each other to pieces, and to render the spirit of free inquiry productive only of mischief. The gradual, and steady
increase of knowledge has cured all these idiosyncracies; and
Germany, and Switzerland, where they were most prevalent,
are now filled with an orderly, industrious, and intelligent
population. To place the idea in the strongest light: if the
people of the United States were no more advancd in intelligence than the Russian population is- now, or than that of
western Europe two centuries ago, and the democratic priuciple were as strong as it is now (which I confess it could not
be) it would tear the frame of society to pieces; so clear and
indisputable is the operation of those great general principles
which rule over both society and government.
There is no doubt but that the class of secondary lawsthose which govern the minute movements of the machinery
-are equally certain; but they are less accessible to our observation, and wisely so, because they would be exposed to
too great interference; but this interference, whenever it is
wise and practicable, is only a link in the series of laws.
General laws which connect a great number of particulars,
are also beyond our interference; but they are more open to
observation, and may be predicted with great precision. We
may foretell, with all the certainty which is requisite for
rational speculation, what will be the character of American
institutions at a future day; for the only way by which we can
see into the future, is to study the past. We may reasonably
suppose variations in the phenomena presented by the two
societies of France and the United States, but we are not at
liberty to suppose a change in the groundwork, or so to transpose the order of events in the two countries as to place the
American society in France, and the French society in the
United States.
As to the third and last stage of a republic, it may last for
an indefinite period. When government is so constructed as
to protect the interests of all classes; when no plausible
ground of complaint can exist; when it is understood by long




CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                51
experience that there are some evils which are necessarily incident to the best contrived institutions; when government
presses with great weight upon the whole population, in consequence of its representing a genuine public opinion, all the
chief requisites for securing public order will be attained. No
political system has ever fallen into decline, unless the principles which presided over its formation have been modified by
the renovating hand of time. And such is the obstinacy with
which every society clings to the customs and institutions
which have become habitual to it, that those principles have
seldom been entirely subverted, except by some powerful
disturbing force from without. When communities like the
European, have passed from an inferior to a superior condition, the institutions, both civil and political, have exhibited
great variations: but this is in consequence of a principle of
progression, not of decay. Every being throughout the whole
organic world, whether individual or collective, has a nature
or constitution impressed upon it which it cannot transcend.
In the highest class of organized beings, man, this principle
is most distinctly seen, in consequence of the great variety
and mutual connection of his faculties, and the consequently
greater strength and more complete development of his being.
But the tendency to progress-to the improvement of his condition-is itself one of the prime laws of his nature, and can
no more be eradicated than any other of his original instincts:
and as his character can only be developed in society-that
is, in a state which exercises all his faculties, moral and intellectual-the tendency to society may be regarded as a final
consequence of his whole nature. Thus the collective being
which we denominate society, is also endowed with a certain
constitution, or nature, which it persists in maintaining, subject only to the great law of progression. But in representative government the relations of the individuals who compose
it are more numerous and complicated than in any other form
of government, and therefore. more difficult to disturb. For
this reason it has the strongest tendency to preserve its original structure amidst all the disturbances to which every part
of the social economy is more or less exposed.
The principles I have enumerated, andl of which I have
given a rapid analysis, apply to society at large, or to such




52              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BooK I.
considerable bodies of men as to render the two almost identical. The intervention of individuals is very limited when
the democratic element has rendered the machinery of government exceedingly complex. This then becomes a system,
and not merely a collection of expedients, loosely imposed,
and loosely administered. But there is an exception; and
that is, where selfish or personal motives exercise great influence over the actions of public men. An acquaintance with
history, and an attentive observation of the course of public
affairs in the United States, disclose the fact that private motives do exert a powerful influence upon the conduct of politicians generally. This appears to be a startling fact; and
the inquiry very naturally suggests itself, what security is
there for upholding free institutions, where those who administer the government are subject to such capital defects.
There is no reason to suppose that there will be any material
change in the character of public men in this respect: but
the difficulty is in great part removed if we consider the
alterations which have been wrought in the structure of government, and the consequent change in the character of public
measures. In the first place, in a democractic republic the
list of debateable questions-questions affecting fundamentally the interests of society-is very much reduced. They
are withdrawn from intrusion, locked up and sequestered;
not merely in consequence of the establishment of a written
constitution, but in consequence of that very form of society
which has originated constitutions. No public man agitates
the question whether there shall be an hereditary monarch, an
order of nobility, or an established church; whether the press
shall be free; whether a high qualification shall be imposed
upon the right of suffrage, and the people forbidden to assemble in order to discuss public measures. No one desires that
the public treasure should be expended upon an army of
courtiers, or that the most cruel and unjust wars should be
undertaken in order to pamper the ambition of a reckless or
dissolute prince, or to maintain a corrupt minister in power.
These questions, and many others connected with them, are
withdrawn from discussion. If they were not, the government would not be a republic.
2d. This form of government introduces us into a condi



CHAP. II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                53
tion of society in which the interests of a great multitude of
persons are obliged to be consulted. Even if these should
not constitute an absolute majority, the face of public affairs
will be greatly improved.
It is the number of wills, which are obliged to be consulted,
both in founding and administering government, which determines its character. If it is small, the institutions cannot be
free; if it is very large, they must be so, and the way is
opened to a reconciliation between private and public interest,
or between personal and patriotic motives. Catholic emancipation, parliamentary reform, and the repeal of the corn laws,
the three great measures of the English government, during
the present century, are signal triumphs of public over private interests; and their achievement is due to the remarkable increase of the middle class, and consequently, to the
great number of wills which were obliged to be consulted;
and although this identification of public and private motives,
can never be carried as far as is desirable, yet itis a great advantage, whenever there is any sensible approach to it. In the
artificial forms of government, the public weal is not controlled systematically, and of set purpose: in a representative government, it is the chief thing to be controlled. In the
first, public men make the public welfare subservient to their
private views and ambition: in the second, they look for the
gratification of their private interests, through the promotion
of the public welfare. Cecil, the famous minister of Elizabeth, declared that he would make parliament his instrument
in governing England. But the face of things have entirely
changed: and parliament now governs through the instrumentality of ministers. The influence of personal motives
upon public measures, is greatly weakened by the publicity
they acquire in a republic. In the long run, it is almost annulled by the great diversity of interests, which in America,
engage the attention of the Federal and State governments.
The restraining influence to which I have alluded, which
compels a reconciliation, more or less complete, between private and public interests, is discernible in the history of those
governments. I do not merely refer to the conflicts between
private associations and the public, in which the last has always prevailed. I refer to the whole body of laws, which from




54              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
1783, to the present day, show an entire preponderance of public views, in the largest sense of the term, over private views;
while at the same time, private happiness and prosperity have
been furthered in an eminent degree. So that to make use
of the felicitous expression of Ames, the office of government
has consisted in the dispensation of benefits, rather than in
the display of authority and power.
Some idea may be formed of the ease and regularity with
which the different functions of government may be performed, in a highly advanced community, by examining some of
the elements of which it is composed. I have before me, a
range of warehouses, some retail stores, a gas factory, and
boats plying on the canal. These contain a mimic representation of government. There is a regular subordination of employments, each superintended by its respective head. They
are conducted by agents, who exhibit the same variety of
character and habits, which are found in the larger governmenlt. They have been collected from the town and country:
some perhaps, possessed careless and improvident habits;
others prudent and industrious ones. All have been converted into useful and sternuous workers, through the influence of the occupations in which they are engaged. All appear to understand the machinery which sets them in motion;
and all act under a conviction, that their interests are identified with its successful working. Sometimes former habits
return; sometimes, but very rarely, a discontented individual
rises up against the authority which is set over him; and
these are like the petty commotions which disturb the larger
society.
Although the number of the disorderly increases as society
advances, it does not increase in the same proportion as the
whole population. It is altogether less in France or Ireland,
than when those countries contained one-half of their present
population. The tendency to a predominance of the lower
faculties, is well marked everywhere; but there are two principles which are unceasingly at work to counteract this tendency. The social instinct constitutes a connecting link between our moral and intellectual nature. It partakes of the
appetites and propensities, and at the same time, of the
character, which belongs to the sentiments and intellectual




CHAP. II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                55
qualities. It has thus succeeded in being the great civilizer
of the human race. In the second place, there is a perpetual
conflict between the passions and propensities of different individuals. When ill regulated, their gratification interferes
with the comfort and enjoyment of others-even of those who
indulge in similar courses; and in order that they may be
reasonably gratified, among the great majority of the population, they are obliged to be restrained in society.  If this
check did not exist, the most depraved qualities might gain
universal ascendancy, and there would be neither society nor
government. The rivalry between the propensities of individuals, has a tendency to repress them in all, and to allow
room for the expansion of the industrial and moral qualities,
which gratify both the selfish and social instincts. The two
principles I have mentioned, gain strength as society advances. The jostling of interests, becomes more frequent
and corrective; the sense of propriety and justice, becomes
stronger, and the convergence of private interests, to a common social end, is more fully disclosed. As the interests of
society are only the aggregate of the interests of the individuals who compose it, there can be no natural hostility between
the two. It is only when the last encroach upon the first,
that is, invade the interests of others, that they become mischievous. The increase of the population creates a powerful
restraint to this; for it multiplies the social relations in every
direction, and therefore renders them stronger. But as the
population increases, the sum of knowledge and information
also increases, and contributes to reinforce the power of resistance. There is not a single European state, in which the
advance of knowledge, among all orders, except the very lowest, is not discernable. There is not one, not excepting Spain
or Portugal, (in which the increase of population has been
most backward), which is not a better ordered community,
than it was ten centuries, or one century ago.




56             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK I.
C HAP TER  III.
THE FOUNDATION OF GOVERNMENT, AND RIGHT OF THE
MAJORITY TO RULE.
THE foundation of government is laid in the nature of
man; and this fact, simple as it is, explains how civil institutions came to have a beginning; and why it is that they
have rightful authority to command. It is sometimes supposed that the most natural view would be to consider individuals as possessing, originally, the right of self-government:
but that cannot be natural which contradicts the constitution
of human nature. The mistake arises from overlooking, or
confounding, the double nature of man. He has attributes
which are peculiar to him as an individual. On the other
hand he has innumerable relations to the beings who surround him. If we could suppose the former to swallow up
his whole being, then it would be correct to say, not only that
self-government was originally the rule, but we should be
driven to the conclusion that it is now the rule, and must be
so in all time to come. But as this is not the case, we are
relieved from stating an unsound proposition, and from following it up by the most mischievous consequences. In truth
the difficulty does not so much consist in conceiving how a
collective body of men should be subjected to the government
of society, as in imagining how such a body, constituting in
its natural signification a society, should know no other rule
than the government of individuals. To say that many thousands, or many millions of men, inhabit together the same
region, is to imply that they have a multitude of relations to
each other, and a system of interests which are common to
all. No man can practise a duty, or exercise a right, without
touching more or less upon the corresponding duties and
rights of other men.
But as this view admits that man has a double nature, it




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                57
may be inquired, what higher and stronger reason there is
why those attributes which make him the being of society
should have the precedence; why, in fine, they should be entitled to rule over the individual, rather than that the individual should be permitted to have control over society: and
laying aside the impracticability and self-contradiction involved in this notion, the answer is plain, that in society the
whole of our nature may be completely unfolded; while out of
it hardly any part is even tolerably developed. The scheme
of self-government, as it erects the will of the individual into
the supreme arbiter of his actions, necessarily implies the violation by each, of the rights of all; and would thus mutilate
and destroy even the character of the individual, if it did not
produce the utter extermination of the race.
It is no wonder, therefore, that men in all ages have instinctively taken shelter under some sort of political institutions. The imperfection of these institutions is a natural
consequence of the very imperfect nature of man. This does
not show that the scheme is wrong, but rather that its excellence is such that it cannot be carried thoroughly into practice. Imperfect as all human contrivances necessarily are,
civil government has been found necessary to the supply of
our wants, the protection of our rights, and to the lifting of
our condition much above that of the brutes.
Several theories have been proposed to account for the first
formation of government.  Some writers consider it as a
divine institution; while others suppose that it originated in
compact. This compact, however, has been described very differently. Mr. Locke treating it as an agreement between the
people and their rulers; while Hobbes and Rousseau suppose
the agreement was simply among the people themselves.
There is this very important distinction between the exact
and the moral sciences, that in the former, a proposition is
either altogether true, or false; while in the last, there may be,
and very frequently is, a mixture of both truth and error.
This renders it exceedingly difficult to deal with moral propositions. Truth and error may be combined in every proportion; and it is only where the balance inclines greatly to the
one side or the other, that we can be sure we are right in
adopting a given view. But there is this great compensation




58              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BooIK I
resulting from this defect, and the total dissimilarity between
these two departments of knowledge, that in politics, when
we embrace an error, we very often embrace a considerable
portion of truth along with it. Thus, in those matters which
vitally affect the interests and happiness of mankind, the
understanding is hardly ever condemned to the dominion of
absolute and unqualified error. If one side of a proposition
were altogether true, and the other altogether false, the adoption of the latter would give rise to something more than a
theoretical error; it would produce consequences fatal to the
peace and well-being of society. The advantage which flows
from this complete dissimilarity between two leading departments of our knowledge is not seen in those abstract propositions which, whatever way they may be decided, affect practice
very little: but it is strikingly displayed in that vast multitude of questions which are of daily occurrence in administering the complicated concerns of an established and regular
community. That is to say, the advantage arising from the
principle increases in exact proportion to its application to
the actual affairs of men.
The two theories which I'have referred to are an illustration
of these views. The first, although exceedingly far-fetched,
has this much of verisimilitude, that the divine law constitutes the highest standard of right of which we can have any
conception, and communities as well as individuals, in all
their schemes of action, are bound to be guided by it. But
if we were to interrogate a philosopher or mechanician as to
the cause of the movements of some complicated machine,
and they were to refer it to the divine agency, we should derive no satisfaction from the explanation. In one sense the
solution would be correct, since the Supreme Being is the
author of everything: but no addition would be made to our
knowledge. So with regard to government; what we want to
know, and what we are immediately concerned in knowing, is
the process, the human instrumentality, which has given rise
to the institution. If we were satisfied with the sweeping
answer, curiosity and inquiry into the operation of those secondary laws which determine the form of particular governments would be damped, and we should make very little
effort to improve an institution which was placed so entirely




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                59
beyond our reach. Accordingly a doctrine which has the appearance of introducing the highest and justest rules into the
conduct of political societies, is the one which has been attended with the most mischievous consequences. The advocates of the "jure divino right" have, at the same time, been
the most idolatrous worshippers of the absolute power of
governments; while the plain and homely understandings who
have rejected it, have set themselves vigorously to work to
extend the blessings of rational freedom, and to build up fortresses against the encroachments of power.
The other theory, which places the foundation of government in campact, especially the view taken, by iobbes and
Rousseau, approaches the truth much nearer. It is not absolutely incorrect even as an historical fact. Compact is the
only legitimate basis upon which government can stand. And
if any one will turn his attention to the formation of the American constitutions, he will find that the idea is carried into
actual practice. With an example so complete and decisive,
it would be a very lame answer to say, with an eminent writer,
that if the American procedure was not followed at the first
dawn of society, where government, like the infant in the cradle, was the creature of circumstances, therefore it is not
entitled to notice. No machine, no production of art, or science, which was the fruit of man's exertions, at the present
day, or a thousand years ago, could have any claim to originality, if this view were correct. All must be referred to an
infantile society, simply because the men who have since lived,
descended directly from that society.
There are two principles which preside over, and give a
direction to the actions of men: reflection and spontaneous
feeling. And there is this fine provision in our nature, that
where the attainment of an important end is desirable, which
cannot be completely compassed without the aid of reflection,
and yet the reflection is wanting, still there is a corresponding
appetite, or sentiment which enables us to feel our way. This,
in a society which has made any considerable advance, is
denominated common sense. In a rude one, it is called sagacity, or instinct. Thus, in those communities which existed at
a period anterior to written history, although we cannot conceive anything like a formal agreement to have been entered




60              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK I.
into, we can very readily suppose-indeed, we are compelled
to suppose-that the minds of all the adult males, however
untutored, spontaneously, and without any set purpose, conspired to that end. That those communities were societies,
that is, collections of men in the aggregate, is abundantly
sufficient to authorize the supposition. Certain it is, that in
the rudest community, at the present day, that of the North
American Indian, I discern far more evidences of the prevalence of a common will, as actuating the tribe, than of the
independent and uncontrolled will of the individual.
We talk of tacit or implied agreements, even in jurisprudence, and give the same force and authority to them which
we do to express ones. And with great reason. Our notions
of right and wrong, of just and unjust, are not determined by
our positive agreements; but the reverse. So much so, that
the same force is sometimes given to that which ought to be,
as if it were actually declared to be. For the same reason,
although we might not be able to find any trace in a primitive
community of an express compact, we should discover far
more evidences of that form of society which results from
one, than we should of the self-government of individuals.
In other words, the causes which lead men to society, and
suggest the formation of political communities, for the management of the common interests are of such controlling efficacy, that they act independently of any formal agreement.
And if the contrivances of government are very imperfect at
first, the same imperfection belongs to the whole sphere of
individual action.  Although in the most perfect form of
society, that of a representative republic, men possess far
more personal freedom than they do as members of a rude
tribe, yet it would be very incorrect to say, that they did not
enjoy individual liberty in this last state.
Moreover, although societies of men may originally have
been gathered by accident, and civil institutions planted fortuitously, the difficulty of conceiving such a thing as a social
compact becomes less with every advance of civilization and
knowledge. No one supposes that the authority of governmenit, even in Great Britain and France, stands upon the same
uncertain foundation as in the reigns of Henry VII. and Louis
XI. The idea that some sort of agreement lies at the founda



CHAP. III.]    OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 61
tion of government is so inseparable from the human mind, so
constantly present in every form of society that it survives all
the mutations which human affairs undergo; and at length
causes this compact to be reduced to practice in all its details.
Thus, at the present moment a convention is assembled in the
most populous and powerful of the American States,* for the
purpose of forming a new constitution; and that convention
was elected by the votes of all the adult males in the State.
Even in some of the European States, there is a settled conviction at the present day, not only among the reflecting, but
with the great bulk of the population, that the promotion of
the general weal is the only legitimate lend of government.
Obstacles may have to be encountered in realizing the idea;
but the idea is predominant. I can easily imagine that all the
adults of a society may assemble for the purpose of forming a
constitution, and yet this constitution be very imperfect. Still
it would be literally true, that the form of government was
the creature of compact.  The imperfection might be the
result of some defects inherent in human nature, or of circumstances which were uncontrollable.
That all governments stand at least upon the footing of an
implied contract, is of the greatest importance in politics.
For then every advance in knowledge adds strength to the
notion, and ultimately converts the implied into a solemn and
formal agreement. And as our inquiries in political philosophy are not bounded by the actual, but are chiefly concerned
with what ought to be and what may be made to be the
theory of the social compact, should ever be held up as constituting the firmest and the most rational foundation of civil
institutions, and as that scheme which all people and lawgivers should make continual efforts to approach, even if it
should not always be attained.
Great difficulty is sometimes expressed with regard to the
rule of the majority; a rule which evidently lies at the foundation of free government.  The difficulty is in truth no
greater in the case of communities than of individuals, each
of whom has conflicting and contradictory interests, opinions,
and feelings, and yet knows that it is necessary to pursue
some determinate plan, not merely to act successfully, but in
* New York.




62               NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
order to act at all. And if one could conceive all the people
of a State as composing parts of one mighty individual, this
great being would be as much agitated and embarrassed by
discordant views, as political communities are. hie would be
obliged to be governed by the majority of reasons in favor of
or against a proposed line of conduct. Difficulties of this
kind afford matter for curious and subtile speculation, but
they rarely disturb the judgment, or interfere much with practice. To say that the rule of the majority is a rule of sheer
necessity, and must prevail on that account, would be an imperfect explanation. But, if we say, that it resembles those
great general laws, which bind together both the physical and
the moral world, which are only rendered necessary because
they produce beneficial results, we then shed light upon the
reason, as well as upon the mode of its operation.
If, in laying the foundation of government, our design is to
consult the common interests of the whole population, there is
no alternative but the rule of the majority. If when the vote
is taken, either among the citizens at large, or in the legislative body which represents them, the will of the greater number did not prevail, the minority would be at liberty to act
without rule, not merely as regarded themselves, but in regard
to the majority also, and in this way we should fall into the
solecism of self-government, where several distinct wills have
power, not only to govern themselves in relation to their individual interests, but also to infringe in innumerable ways upon
the general interests of the society. Even if we suppose that
the majority should retire and form a separate government, a
new minority would immediately appear, and this would be
the case on every subdivision of the population, however minute it might be. The process, if continued, and it must be,
once it is commenced, will unfold the preposterous and mischievous (flects which would flow from departing from the
simple and intelligible rule I have referred to. When the
population, by repeated subdivisions, was morseled into the
smallest fractions which would admit, of a majority and minority, there would, in a country of twenty-one millions of people,
be no less than seven millions of distinct governments. And,
to be consistent, the division must be pursued still further,
for in each of those seven millions of lilliputiart bodies politic,




CHAP. 11.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 63
there is one individual to disagree to everything. The effect
would be to create ten millions and a half of such governments; or, as it would be absurd when these assemblies were
each reduced to two persons, not to accord to them  equal
authority, there would ultimately be precisely the same number of governments as individuals, that is, twenty-one millions. It is needless to add, that before the process had been
repeated four or five times, society would be delivered over to
wild uproar and confusion.
The rule of the majority does not disappoint the design of
government, which is to represent the interests of the whole
community, and not merely those of a part. On the contrary,
it is the only priuciple which is calculated to secure the happiness and prosperity of the whole. The various opinions
and views which are current in society, evidently do not exist
for the purpose of being carried literally into practice. Their
great use consists in this, that they rouse inquiry, sharpen
discussion, lead to extended and thorough examination; and
thus, by eliciting the truth in the only way in which it can be
elicited, produce the greatest attainable advantage to the
whole community. Men's opinions and feelings may be the
most diverse imaginable, but their interests cannot be so.
The giving free scope to the first, and then subjecting them to
the will of the majority, is the only way to give consistency to
the last, and of reducing to a system, the complicated concerns
of society. The keen and searching inquisition which in a
democratic republic, is made into all the schemes of public
policy, constitutes a species of experiment upon their value
and practicability, without which no permanent benefit could
be secured to the whole, or to any part of society. Without
this process, men would become mere automata in the pursuit
of ends, to which instinct, not an enlightened reason, prompted
them. So that the existence of a majority and minority, and
yet the supremacy of the former, instead of marring the great
design of civil institutions, contributes directly to advance it.
It may be laid down as a proposition, admitting of few exceptions, that whenever a majority is competent to take care
of its own interests, it will also be competent to take care of
those of the minority. This results from two circumstances:
first, that all the prominent and substantial interests of the




64.            NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK I.
lesser will be included in those of the larger body; and, secondly, that parties in a republic-the only form of government in which the terms majority and minority are legitimate
expressions-do not occupy the fixed position which they have
in monarchy and aristocracy: on the contrary, the individuals composing them are constantly shifting places, some
passing from the major to the minor, and others sliding from
the minor into the major party.
The constant tendency in a republic, is to the formation of
a middle class, as the predominant body in the community.
The consequence is, that so numerous a party as a majority
cannot exist without being principally composed of that class.
If the minority should be exclusively formed from it-a circumstance which cannot occur-the majority will at least
draw the greatest proportion of its members from it. Now a
middle class may be said fairly to represent the interests which
are common to the whole society. The very rich and the very
poor may be sure that their extravagant and unreasonable
desires will not be consulted; but they may be equally certain
that all their just claims will be regarded, and that, notwithstanding the occasional gusts which blow over society, their
solid interests will be as carefully and effectually watched as,
humanly speaking, can be the case. It can hardly be otherwise, as this great middle class was originally formed, and is
constantly recruited, from the ranks of those who commenced
life with little or no property, and as the ambition of every
one is to move forward and to rise as fast as possible into the
class of the rich. Moreover the laws which protect property
in a democratic community are necessarily common to all who
have property-to the man worth a million, as well as to one
who possesses only two thousand dollars.
It is then correct to say, that in a country where free institutions exist, all the great interests of the minority will be
inclosed in those of the majority; that the public men who
conduct the one party will, in no important respect, be different from those who conduct the other, and that the great
variety of opinions which divide the community will not in
the long run, and in the general upshot of human affairs,
affect fundamentally or even sensibly the well-being of the
state.




CHAP. III        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 65
There is no other alternative than a government based upon
the will of the majority, or some one of the artificial forms of
government; and hereditary monarchy and aristocracy do not
properly represent either a majority or minority. I slpeak now
of pure monarchy and aristocracy. For by a partial combination of free institutions with the hereditary principle, the will
of the minority may be introduced into some part of the government, but never that of the majority. The termn minority
is merely a comparative one. It is so intrinsically, and not
merely verbally. A party in the minority is said to exist in
reference to another party in the majority, because its opinions are formed in contradiction to those of the last. The
minority may be said to spring from the majority. If in pure
monarchies, as Russia and Spain, or in pure aristocracies,
such as Venice and Genoa once were, there is no way of giving expression to the opinions and collecting the will of the
majority, there cannot, properly speaking, be a minority.
Limited or constitutional monarchies, as Great Britain and
France, make some approach to the formation of these parties, because a distinct element has found its way into the
composition of the government. But monarchy and aristocracy, in their naked forms, are a species of self-existing government; although the notion of a social compact is never
lost from  the population, no more than the notions of right
and wrong, the just and the unjust, are ever obliterated from
the minds of the rudest people; yet these governments are
upheld, for the most part, by superstition and fear, and have
power to perpetuate themselves, without making any direct
and declared appeal to any part of society.
But it is a very important step towards the formation of
regular government when the institutions, or any part of
them, come to be founded even upon the will of a definite
minority. The end at which government should aim begins
then to be seen in a clearer light. The mind is gradually
weaned from the notion of the "jure divine" right of rulers.
As a considerable part of the population participates directly
or indirectly in the administration of the government, the exercise of political privileges by this part constitutes a school
of instruction, which spreads its influence over the whole
community; so that if we compare the England and Scotland
5




66              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
of the present day, with what they were in the reign of Elizabeth, when, as has been finely said, the intelligent were "like
gaudy flowers upon a putrid marsh," we shall find that the
well-informed are now as one hundred to one at the former
period.
The moment that a considerable body of the people begin
to exercise a visible authority in the state, the way is prepared
for the ultimate rule of the majority. Men then begin, for
the first time, to analyze their ideas on political subjects. As
public men are now restrained by a force residing out of the
government; as the party which wields the popular branch of
the legislature, although it is a minority out of doors, is yet
obliged to defer to the opinions of every part of the community, intelligent men-indeed persons of very ordinary sagacity —naturally interrogate themselves, why an artificial distinction, such as the possession of landed property alone,
should be permitted to stamp the character of citizenship
upon the population; why, in fine, a straight line should be
drawn through society, placing beyond the pale of the political franchises great numbers of men of substantial condition,
and every way qualified to bear a part in the administration
of public affairs.
We may then make a more particular division of governments than that contained in the first chapter. We may
divide them into three classes: 1st. One of self-existing governments, as absolute monarchy and aristocracy. 2d. Governments which rest upon the will of a definite minority of
the population, of which limited or constitutional monarchies
are an example; and 3d. Governments which represent the
will of the majority, of which, the democratic republic is the
only example. The two first are mere subdivisions of the
more general classification into the artificial forms of government. Nor is the classification a refined one. On the contrary, it is entitled to the strictest attention. For the period
when government succeeds in founding itself upon the will of
the clear minority marks a most important era in the history
of society. It denotes that a majority of the population, although politically passive, are yet intellectually active; and
there is yet this further consequence flowing from it, that if
the minority contain a large proportion of the substantial




CHAP. nII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 67
people, their interests, opinions and feelings will more and
more resemble those which are common to the great bulk of
the community. So that if government is not administered
in the best possible manner, it will be infinitely better administered than in pure monarchy or aristocracy. I observe that
in Great Britain and France every year adds to the force of
public opinion; that the governing power no longer supposes
that it is absolved from paying attention to the sentiments
and wishes of even the most inconsiderable class; but that,
on the contrary, it makes great efforts to accommodate the
legislation to the interests of every part of the community.
One of the most remarkable circumstances attending the rule
of the majority is, that it is no sooner invested with power,
than it sets about imposing limitations to the exercise of its
own authority. This is an invariable consequence wherever
a real majority, as in the United States, and not merely a
constructive majority, as in France during the revolution,
have the supremacy; and it is evident that it affords the most
unequivocal test imaginable of the right and the fitness of the
majority to rule. There is nothing surprising in this disposition on the part of the popular power. The same fact is observable in the conduct of individuals. There are few persons, given to the slightest reflection, who do not, on entering
upon life, form for themselves a set of rules intended to act as
restraints upon their own conduct, and to produce order and
arrangement in the management of their private affairs. The
merchant, the shopkeeper, the mechanic, all act in this way,
and with fully as much judgment and discretion as men of
the highest education. That these same persons, when collected into a body, should be suddenly.bereft of a faculty of
so much advantage in the pursuit of all their interests, would
be difficult to explain upon any principles which belong to
human nature. Self-interest, which prompts to its exercise in
the first instance, will elicit it in the other also. The change
which society undergoes when it has passed from a rude to a
highly civilized state, does not imply that self-interest is ex-'tinguished, but that it has become more enlightened, takes in
a great number of objects of gratification, and thus tends
constantly to bring about an agreement between the general
interests and the interests of individuals.




68               NATURE AND TENDENCY              C[BOO I.
It would doubtless be a great improvement upon all ordinary
systems of governpment, and would conduce materially to a
just and regular administration of public affairs, if we could
introduce among communities some principle which resembled
the faculty of reflection in individuals. We should then succeed in imposing a control upon the passions, and remove the
greatest obstacle in the way of free government. But whenever we have advanced to that point where the majority possess the supremacy, and yet consent to impose limitations
upon their own authority, we may be sure that we have succeeded, to a very great extent, in introducing that principle
into the institutions. These limitations, or checks, may be
divided into three classes: 1st. Where a restraint is imposed
upon both the majority and minority. 2d. Where peculiair
advantages are accorded to the minority; and 3d. Where the
authority of the community is so distributed as to give rise to
a compound system of majorities and minorities.
A written constitution is an example of the first class. It
is an instrument which undertakes to form, upon reflection, a
body of fundamental rules for the government of the community, which shall be a convenient shelter against the temporary gusts of party feeling. Precautions are thus taken, on
laying the foundation of the system, for securing the interests
of every order of men, without reference to the fact whether
they shall afterwards fall into the party of the majority, or of
the minority.  Every article of such an instrument is an
authoritative declaration in behalf of general liberty. Opinions
may vary, circumstances may change, rendering it desirable
for the moment to depart from some of these fundamental rules;
but this great covenant stares them in the face, and, although
it is plain, that it is physically possible to overleap the bounds
which it has set, yet such is the power which the rule of right
exercises upon the minds of men, when it is recognized as a general principle of action, that there is hardly any faction but what
recoils from the attempt, or if it is ventured upon, is compelled
to retrace its steps. And what is very remarkable, the difficulty increases in proportion as the electoral franchise is enlarged, and the number of active citizens augmented; which
is the reverse of what would at first be supposed to be the
case. It is more difficult to maintain a good understanding




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                69
among the members of a party which is very numerous, than
of one which is small. Admitting that a majority of the mnajority should be bent upon infringing some parts of the constitution, in order to attain a desired end, there are always a
numerous body of individuals, of calm judgment and solid
reflection, who, although every way disposed to make sacrifices for the sake of keeping the party together, will never
consent to sacrifice to a party what belongs to their conrtry.
These individuals stand aloof, or go over to the minority,
which, becoming the majority, gains the ascendancy, and restores the balance of the constitution.
During the last twenty-five years, we have witnessed repeated
attempts, by the legislatures of several of the American States,
to violate their respective constitutions, and sometimes even
that of the federal government. In every instance the attempt
has been abortive. So many of the people have abandoned
the party in power, that it became utterly powerless in the
accomplishment of its plans, and, after a time, the whole community returned with renewed satisfaction to the wise and
salutary maxims which had been handed down to them  by
their fathers.
The constitution of Ohio was framed in 1802, when the poplulation was a handful. It has now become a populous and
powerful community; so that it has outgrown its constitution,
as the man outgrows the clothes which he wore when a boy.
Great inconvenience has been experienced in consequence of
some of the provisions of that constitution; yet the people
have submitted patiently to them, because, although a majority
has constantly during the last twenty years been in favor of
an alteration, yet the time has not yet arrived when the constitutional majority of two-thirds could be obtained.
An example of the second class of checks, is when the
minority have a proportional representation in the legislative
body. The constitution of the executive and judiciary is such
as to preclude the adoption of this plan, but the legislature is
composed of so many members as very readily to admit of it.
As representation takes the place of an actual deliberation by
the people in person, when all parties would have an opportunity to be heard, there is every reason why the same right
should be recognized in elective government. But it is obvious




70              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOI Io
the moment the door is opened to a representation of the
minority in the legislative hall, that a most important restraint
is imposed upon the majority. Some. persons cannot conceive
the existence of a check, unless it has a coercive force. But it
is often of more efficacy, in consequence of being deprived of
this quality. The minority, in its present position, are placed
more upon their good behavior, exercise their wits more in
finding out solid and substantial reasons for the opposition
which they make; and from the single circumstance that
they do not aspire to command, but only to persuade, are enabled to exercise very great influence at those critical periods
when extreme measures are about to be pursued, and when
the minds of men have become greatly exasperated. A seat
in the legislature is the most commanding position which can
be occupied in the government. There is no calculating to
what extent public abuses are prevented, and the laws modified by the agency of a minority, although it may be impossible
to lay one's finger upon the precise period when either was
done. The instances are nevertheless without number.
The division of the legislature into two chambers, is another
instance of checks. Where two chambers exist, and the members hold their seats for different terms, the more popular
branch may alone represent the opinions of a majority of the
people at any given period, while the more permanent one
will reflect opinions which once had the ascendancy, but which
are perhaps passing away. Whether the arrangement is an
advantageous one-whether it is wise to permit this conflict
of living with dead opinions, is a problem not easy of solution.
Nor is it necessary in this place to enter into an examination
of it. But, if the system is of doubtful utility, it more strikingly
displays the disposition of the majority, on laying the foundation of government, to concede great and decisive advantages
to the minority. All the American States, except Vermont,*
have adopted the plan. At an early period the people of Pennsylvania established only one chamber, but very soon after
added another.
Io those countries where one chamber is composed of an
hereditary aristocracy, as in Great Britain, or of an aristocracy
for life, as in France, Holland, and Belgium, the institution
i In Vermont a second chamber has recently been created.




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                71
is of an entirely different character. The creation of an upper
house is not an advantage conceded to the minority of the
society; but is a personal privilege conferred upon a very
small body. No matter what opinions either the majority or
minority may have, there stands this immovable bulwark,
until the period has arrived when public sentiment has acquired
so much power, as to control the conduct of the highest
authority in the state.
In the federal government of the United States, the advantage afforded to the minority is permanent. And this has
arisen from the fact that the Union was formed by a convention of the states, and not by the people of America, as constituting one' aggregate community. The relative extent and
population of these states are very different. But as they all
held an independent rank prior to the formation of the constitution, it was impossible to do otherwise than to give all an,
equal representation in at least one branch of the legislature.
This renders the structure of the government more complicatedL
than that of the states. Neither a majority nor a minority of
the general population are represented in the senate. The
majority of the votes belong to a minority of the local population. But in that great confederacy of nations, over which
international law now presides with nearly as much force as
municipal law does over single states, large and small communities stand precisely upon the same footing, and are entitled to equal consideration. Moreover the difficulty is almost
entirely obviated in America by the uncommonly skillful construction of the two systems of government. The federal and
state interests are completely separated from each other, by
which the most important part of the business of government
is left to the exclusive management of the states. The veto
of the executive may also operate sometimes as a check in
favor of a minority. This power may be exercised in favor of
a majority in the nation, against a majority in the legislature;
or in favor of a minority in the nation, against a majority in
the legislature; or, lastly, in favor, of a minority in the legislature against a majority in the same body; without the means
of knowing, at the precise time it is interposed, what is the
actual state of public opinion among the people. Its operation
is very different at different times, but the immediate effect is




72                NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
always to defeat the will of a majority in the legislature. The
institution presents a problem of as difficult solution as the
one just referred to. The difficulty consists in balancing the
probabilities for a long series of years, in favor of the rectitude
of the opinions of the executive, against the corresponding
probabilities in favor of a majority of the legislature.
The third class of checks, depending upon a more general
distribution of the power of the community, is where a system
of primary and secondary governments is established: one
intended to preside over those interests which are common to
all the parts; the other to administer those which are exclusively local. The perfect form of confederate government
affords a full illustration of the plan, although it- is by no
means necessary that the community should be a confederacy,
in order to give rise to it. Every state of great extent would
find it its interest to create a set of local jurisdiction to manage
the local interests, which are necessarily beyond the reach of
the central government. The scheme does not belong exclu-:sively to a confederacy of states. But its utility is first suggested by the practice under that form of government. The
local jurisdictions of departments and  "arrondissements"  in
France, and the separate legislatures of Sweden and Norway,
are examples, though imperfect ones, of the plan. The United
States is the only country in which it has been carried to its
full extent. And as the restriction upon the electoral franchise
tis so very slight, it is easy to determine which party does in
fact constitute the majority of the people. The creation of a
national and state government has produced a double system
of majorities and minorities. For instance, the minority in
3the national legislature may be a majority in several of the state
legislatures, and vice versa. The interests to be administered
are not the sanme in the two. They are therefore kept distinct.
Utnder one homogeneous government, the party in the majority
might rule over both.
But in the United States the scheme is not confined to the
federal government, but is pursued in the separate governments of the states, each of which has created a system of local
jurisdictions within itself, to manage the local interests. The
county, and township jurisdictions, each with its board of
officers attached, are examples,




CHAP. III ]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  73
It is unnecessary to refer to any further instances of the
various checks and limitations which the majority constantly
impose upon the exercise of their own authority. What has
been said, contributes abundantly to fortify the position, that
wherever a majority is capable of taking care of its own interests, it will for.that very reason be capable of presiding over
the interests of the minority. In the new states which are
constantly springing into existence in America,, and whose
constitutions are based upon the principle of universal suffrage,
we find that every precaution is taken in the outset, to impose
limitations upon the power of the majority, wherever these are
believed to be subservient to the general weal.




74              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK I.
CHAPTER  IV.
CHARACTER AND OPERATIONS OF ELECTIVE GOVERNMENTS.
IF the extreme rigor of the rule, that the majority is entitled
to govern, is thus tempered in practice, by the intervention of
so many and such powerful restraints, imposed by the majority, it may be affirmed that the country which denotes such
a condition of society, or anything which makes a near approach
to it, is ripe for the establishment of free institutions. The
right of the majority to govern, depends simply npon its capacity for self-government.
But the inquisitive observer, fearful of the fate of free institutions in proportion to the interest he takes in them, may
inquire whether the unbounded freedom of thought and action,
which they engender, is not absolutely incompatible with the
firm authority which government should possess; and whether
they must not eventually perish, from the unceasing action of
the very element in which they are destined to live. But it is
that very freedom of thought and action, unbounded as it may
be supposed to be, which gives being to public opinion; and
without the influence of public opinion, society would be a
mere waste. Although Europeans look with so much distrust
upon the American commonwealth; yet it is remarkable that
everything which is valuable in their own societies, has been
brought about by the communication of a greater degree of
liberty to the people. So far from weakening the bond which
holds society together, the effect has been to render it stronger.
In Great Britain, and France, in Prussia, and Belgium, it is
in exact proportion to the power which public opinion has acquired, that the administration of government has become
mild and enlightened, and that a character of firmness and
durability has been imparted to the institutions. It was at
one time believed that public tranquility could not be even
tolerably preserved, without the constant- presence of a mili



CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                75
tary force. The people were terrified into submission to the
government, rather than won over to obedience to the laws.
It may be laid down as a maxim in politics, that the employment of physical force is rendered necessary, by the
absence, or deficiency, of moral force. If there is a happy
distribution of the last through society, there will be less
occasion to resort to the former. If, on the other hand, the
distribution is very unequal, the discontent will be great
because the amount of liberty is small, and hence as a natural
consequence, inordinate authority will be condensed in the
hands of the government. Now, it is public opinion, above all
other agents, which contributes to produce a just equalization
of the moral power of the community; and it is the freedom
ot thought and action which gives birth to public opinion. It
was on the first dawn of a public opinion in England, or rather
I should say in Europe, that Pym, and Selden, Coke, and
Hampden, were roused to make such bold and intrepid exertions in behalf of popular freedom. Man feels strong when
he is conscious that he is surrounded by a power, which represents not his feelings merely, but the feelings of mankind.
Abundant compensation is thus made for that state of feebleness and isolation in which individuals, who cherish noble
ideas, would otherwise find themselves placed in the midst of
society.
It is not surprising that the freedom of the press has met
with so much resistance in monarchial and aristocratical governments. The tribunal of public opinion, when fairly erected,
is so formidable an adversary to the exercise of every species
of arbitrary authority, that it invariably succeeds first in subduing the tone and temper of the public administration, and
ultimately the form of the political institutions. Chateaubriand declared to the ministers of Louis Philippe, " on the day
you decree the liberty of the press, you die."  And if this
audacious speech was not verified, it is plainly because the
elements of public opinion are now everywhere visible throughout France.
In a country where a fixed aristocracy exists, some men are
necessarily endowed with a much larger share of influence
than others. A body of nobility and gentry have sometimes
possessed more weight than all the rest of the community.




76              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
This unequal distribution of power is a great hindrance to the
formation of a public opinion which shall rule over all; but it
is highly favorable to the creation of a particular or sectarian
opinion within the class itself. When, however, the dispersion
of knowledge and property has elevated that multitude of men
who occupied the inferior ranks of society, public opinion rises
up, and threatens to beat down the narrow and exclusive
opinions which before existed. The array of physical force,
which was before necessary, sometimes to quell insubordination among the masses, sometimes to curb the turbulence of
the nobles, and at others to restrain the usurpations of the
prince, gradually disappears. All orders of men begin to find
their true relative position in society, and public order and
tranquility are preserved with remarkable regularity. From
whence it is very easy to understand why it is, that a just
distribution of the moral power of the community, supercedes,
to so great an extent, the use of mere physical force. The old
ranks may continue to stand, but they will stand like broken
and defaced columns amid the new structure which is reared
around them.
One striking property of free institutions is, that they present fewer subjects of contention between the government and
the people, than any other scheme of civil polity. I have
already pointed to two characteristic features of a democratic
republic: a written constitution, and the establishment of
local jurisdictions, contrivances of great wisdom and utility.
For by the first, the principal controversies which have shaken
other communities are struck out of being; and by the last, a
very large proportion of what may be described as the secondary interests of society are withdrawn from the arena ot
national contention, and are deposited with domestic governments, by which they will be managed in the most skillful and
unobtrusive manner possible. Under such a system men are
able to find very few subjects to quarrel about; and even if
government has less ability to resist encroachments, there is
also infinitely less temptation and opportunity to assail its
rightful authority.
Not only however are the most dangerous controversies
diminished; those which remain assume an entirely different
character. They are unfit to be decided by force. The pre



CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                77
rogatives of an hereditary monarch are so incapable of exact
limitation, that he may often attempt to push them to the
uttermost; or the strictly legitimate exercise of them may be
productive of infinite mischief to society. The single power
of declaring war may occasion the imposition of taxes insupportably burthensome to the community. The legislature may
be a close body, in no way entitled to the appellation of representative of the people, and much more disposed to favor
the projects of the prince, than to consult the solid welfare of
the state. The questions which grow out of such a condition
of things immediately suggest the idea of an appeal to force.
But whether the legislature shall make internal improvements,
charter banks, or encourage manufactures, however interesting
and exciting they may be, are still questions which belong to
a totally different sphere. They could not ever grow up in
any other society than one which had been trained to the arts
of peace, and where men had been habitually given to reflection. Such questions recommend themselves to the understanding alone, and it will be an exceedingly rare occurrence
if one drop of blood is ever shed in deciding them.
This explains why it is that in modern societies men are so
much addicted to reflection. It is not because they are by
nature superior to the men of former times. It is simply in
consequence of the independent condition to which they have
risen. The cares and anxieties of life are multiplied even
more than its enjoyments. A vastly greater proportion of the
people than at any former period are engaged in industrial
pursuits. These demand the constant exercise of judgment,
prudence and discretion, and being accustomed to calculate
the consequences of their actions on a small scale, they are
enabled to transfer the same habit to a larger theater of
action, and thus to render the exercise of their political principles not merely harmless, but essntially beneficial to the
community. At one time no one could practice a trade in a
city unless he belonged to the guild: and hardly any one out
of the ranks of the nobility and clergy was the proprietor of
land. There was no school for reflection among the people,
because there was no opportunity for its application, either in
the walks of private or public life. It follows that in a democratic republic, where there is a more equal distribution of




78              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK 1.
property, and where industry, whether in town or country, is
unfettered, the mass of the population must be more distinguished for reflection than anywhere else. Thus, in that form
of government where this invaluable quality is most in demand
it is freely supplied, and where it is least wanted it is sparingly produced.
If it were possible so to construct government as invariably
to connect the interests of individuals with those of the public, we should form a system which would bid fair to endure
forever. I speak now of the interests of individuals, as seen
and understood by themselves; for the real interests of private
persons never can be inconsistent with the general weal. Now
although it is impossible to realize this idea, in consequence
of the great diversity in the faculties and propensities of different men, and the different manner in which these are combined in individuals; yet experience demonstrates that it is
easy to carry it a great deal further than was once believed
practicable. Philosophers who have sketched ideal plans of a
republic, have failed, not so much because they have placed
too high an estimate on human nature, as because they have
not allowed room for the operation of some very homely
qualities, out of which spring what we term patriotism and
public spirit. If what makes the artificial forms of government so dear to the select few who participate in their administration, is that their whole interests are wrapped up in the
preservation of them, there seems to be no reason why we
may not imitate the scheme on a still larger scale, and cause
the great body of the people to be deeply interested in upholding free institutions. There is no necessity for imagining the existence of any higher qualities than before, in order
to produce this effect. For admitting that we cannot render
the motives of human conduct more general in the one case
than in the other, yet by giving to them an infinitely wider
scope in the last instance, we found ourselves upon the same
principle of interest, and thus communicate both more freedom, and more prosperity, to a greater number of people. If
the superstition inspired by the artificial form of government
is a prodigious support to their authority, there is a very
similar but a still stronger feeling at work among the people
who live under free government. They are alive to every




CHAP. IV. ]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 79
attempt to impair it, not merely because they believe their
institutions to be the best, but because they are the workmanship of their own hands.
In whatever light we may cast the subject, it seems evident
that representative government is the only one which is fitted
to fulfill all the great ends for which society was established.
Not onlj is the general condition of the population greatly
elevated, so as to render the care of its interests the chief aim
of. government, but a multitude of persons are actually employed in the public administration. Public magistrates of
various kinds, periodically rising from the people and returning to the people, are dispersed over the whole country. The
sentinels of lioerty are so thickly planted as to keep perpetual
watch, and the complicated and wide spread machinery of the
government, makes it an affair of great difficulty to break it
up, or to take it to pieces. In the artificial governments, the
handful of men who rule over public affairs are staked to the
preservation of power; in a republic, the great body of the
people are heartily interested in the maintenance of freedom.
In the event, of any great convulsion, occasioned by foreign
war, or intestine commotion, the advantage is greatly on the
side of popular government. Free institutions so thoroughly
penetrate with their influence every part of the community,
that although it may be possible to shake the government, the
question will still arise, can you shake the society. In war,
there is a distinction between conquering the government, and
conquering the people; and a similar distinction is applicable
in this instance. In a monarchy, or aristocracy, the overthrow
of the government by foreign or civil war has sometimes
nearly obliterated the traces of civilization. In a republic,
where the great body of the people are fairly brought within
the pale of civilization, such a disaster can never occur. Such
a people feel deeper concern for their institutions, than the
people of other countries, and yet they are not so completely
dependent upon every vicissitude which may befall the government.
There is another advantage which free institutions possess.
They lay the foundation for a great body of experience. It is
of the highest importance that societies, as well as individuals,
should be placed in a situation which enables them to make




80              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [ BOOK T.
actual experiment of the utility of those diversified laws
which the wants of the community render necessary. In
hereditary government, the machinery is so delicate, that this
can seldom be hazarded without endangering the whole fabric. I do not now speak of that bastard sort of experimentthe fruit of vain and fanciful theories —but of that which
founds itself upon an intimate acquaintance with everything
which appertains to the substantial interests of the community. As experience in its most comprehensive signification,
including observation, is the foundation of our knowledge; as
all science, in short, is nothing but the condensation of human
experience, there seems every reason why we should be able
to avail ourselves of it, in what concerns the positive interests
of society, as well as in what relates to matters of more
curious inquiry. The most gifted understanding, when relying upon its own resources merely, will forever be too imperfect to grasp all the conditions which affect the determination
of any given enactment. As the whole groundwork of the
institution is different in a republic, from what it is in any
other form of government, the quantity of experience which
is supplied is correspondingly large. For we then have a
people in the genuine acceptation of the term. The laws, and
the whole course of the public administration, take an entirely new direction. War, negotiation, and finance no longer
absorb the whole attention of statesmen. Public affairs have
then a different meaning affixed to them. The legislature
embraces a vast scope of practical interests which, being more
level to the capacities of all, call into requisition a great
amount of popular talent; and as they who make the laws
are the very persons who will derive advantage, or suffer inconvenience, from them, a most instructive school of experience is established, in which all are compelled to learn something.
I observe that more laws have been passed by the British
Parliament in the last forty years, than in the three preceding
centuries; that is, the laws have multiplied in proportion as
the real business transactions of society have increased; and
these have been increased because so large an amount of the
population have been raised to a higher condition than formerly. A similar change is very perceptible in France. But




CHAP. IV.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 81
on the whole, I should say, that the democratic element, although it appears in bolder relief in France than in Great
Britian, was not making so great and so sure advances in the
former, as in the latterc ountry.
One of the most remarkable features of American society,
is the facility with which changes are made in fundamental
laws, wherever experience has shown that there is an infirmity in some part of the system. A convention in any one of
the American states, assembled for the purpose of making
alterations in its constitution, creates no noise or confusion.
All the deliberations are conducted to a close with the same
regularity as the proceedings of an ordinary legislative body.
At an early period there was a remarkable sensitiveness on
this subject. Constitutions, it was said by those who had not
entirely escaped from the European forms of thought, were
sacred things; and once ordained should never again be
touched. As if every institution did not acquire sacredness
by being perfected and better adapted to its original design.
A great revolution was effected in the structure of society,
when the inferior classes lost their dependence upon the
higher; when the relations of patron, and client, of lord, and
vassal, ceased. A new relation immediately sprung up. Instead of the dependence being all on one side, the two orders
became mutually dependent on each other. Society began to
assume the character of a great partnership among the members, instead of that of a series of ascending links in a chain,
one end of which was fastened to the throne.  From that
period, the people have been constantly gaining in intelligence and power: so that it is doubtful whether, in more than
one European state, if the laws of primogeniture and entail
had been abolished a century ago, society would not be comnpletely prepared for the introduction of the elective principles
into every department of the government. There is every
reason to believe that those laws will sooner or later give way.
The force of habit among a whole people is as strong as it is
in individuals. It frequently survives the existence of the
causes which originally induced it, but it cannot survive them
forever, when there are so many counter agents unceasingly
in operation.
Two apparently opposite effects are produced by that altera6




82              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
tion in the structure of society which I have described. Governments are rendered stronger, and yet, both the absolute
and the relative power of the people is augmented. As it
becomes more and more necessary to take counsel of public
opinion, with regard to every important measure, it might be
supposed that goverment had lost strength. But inasmuch
as a man, mutilated in one part, is not able to exert so much
general power as a man who is perfect in all his members, so
as a government which relies upon the entire strength of society, must necessarily be more efficient in proportion as that
strength is developed. In all the European governments, in
which a legislative body exists, however inadequately it may
represent popular opinion, there is notwithstanding an increasing anxiety to consult popular interests. Any important
change in language, denotes a corresponding change in the
ideas of the age. And the comparative disuse, in some parts
of Europe, of the term subjects, and the substitution of the
term citizens, or people, is an unequivocal indication that new
things have come to pass. Mr. Fox was the first statesman
who accustomed the English ear to this mode of speech. He
knew well, that the way to fasten an impression upon the
mind, was to give it a, palpable form-to incorporate it into
the dialect of the country. The crowned heads of Europe do
not venture to sport with the lives and property of the people as formerly, simply because the people have acquired a
weight in the political system which enables them to exercise
a powerful, though it may be an indirect control over all pub
lie aflairs.
There are two properties inseparable from every well constituted government: the one a capacity to receive impressions from public opinion, the other a power of reacting upon
society. There is no contradiction between the two things.
On the contrary, the last is the natural consequence of the
first. The use of public opinion is to inspire government with
confidence, fortitude, and resolution, whenever public affairs
are well conducted; and to impress it with shame, distrust, and
fear, whenever the contrary is the case. Two forces act in
different directions, and yet both tend to the same result: the
causing public men to exercise a more legitimate, and therefore a more effective influence than they could otherwise do.




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                83
The more government reposes on public opinion, the more
susceptible it is of being acted upon; and yet, the greater is
the facility it acquires of acting upon the community in difficult emergencies. I do not now suppose the case of general
resistance to its authority; for the structure of representative
government is such as to render it a guarantee against such a
contingency.  But I speak of those partial insurrections
against the laws, originating in local discontents, and to
which the best regulated society will be occasionally subject.
European writers on public law, with nearly one accord, admit the right of resistance on the part of the people, whenever government has clearly and flagrantly transcended its
authority; and very properly so, for where the institutions
contain no provision for displacing men who have bid defiance
to all law, and who have evinced a settled determination to
iender the public interests subordinate to their schemes of
self aggrandizement, there is no other alternative but that
of resistance. It constitutes an excepted case; but a case
consecrated by necessity, by right, by the eternal laws of
God and man. The deposition of Napoleon, and Charles X.
in France; of Charles I. and James II. in England, stand
upon this clear and undisputed principle. That of Louis XVI
may admit of some hesitation, and yet it is exceedingly doubtful whether the scheme of constitutional or limited monarchy
could have been achieved without it.
But in elective government, the case cannot occur. The
powers of all public functionaries are not only very limited,
but they are themselves quietly removed before they have had
an opportunity to commit any great mischief. And I cannot
help thinking that the reason why America has been less subject to even partial insurrections than any other country, is
owing to this circumstance. The power which is reposed with
the government is conferred by all the parts equally; and the
notion that the will of the majority is entitled to command,
is so indelibly impressed upon both people and rulers, that
wherever a conflict occurs between the laws which that majority have ordained, and any particular section of the population, a degree of confidence, energy and alacrity is infused
into all public men, which enables them to triumph speedily




84              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
over all opposition, and that without depending to any degree
upon the instrumentality of a standing army.
A democratic republic will then possess the two properties
I have mentioned, in greater perfection than any other form
of government. It will possess a capacity of receiving impressions from without, because it is the creature of the publie will; it will have the power of reacting upon society, not
only because it will be powerfully supported by public opinion,
but because the disturbances which will occur can never in
the nature of things be more than local. Twenty times more
blood was shed in Paris, on the memorable three days which
closed the reign of Charles X. than in all the insurrections
which have occurred in the United States since the foundation
of the government.
It is the time now to direct the attention of the reader to a
very material distinction, already hinted at, between a representative republic and the artificial forms of government. In
the first the political authority of the community is divided
into three classes; the powers which are exercised by the government, those exercised by the people, and those reserved
to the people. In pure monarchy, and aristocracy, there is
but one class. The whole power is centered in the government. In the United States, it is common to make two classes
only; the second is left out. All the active power of the community is supposed to be conferred upon the government;
and all its latent power to be lodged with the people; liable
to be roused to activity whenever a convention is assembled
for the purpose of forming a new constitution. But this is a
very imperfect view of the structure of the Amlerican government. The powers actually exercised by the people are numerous, and of great importance. I have no reference now to the
distribution of authority between the federal and state governments. That does in reality give rise to a fourth class,
which it is not now necessary to notice.
First, if we could consider the various persons who are
chosen to perform the duties of the great number of offices
which exist in representative government, as naked instruments, mere conduit pipes, to convey the opinions, and to give
an audible expression to the interests, of the people, the truth
of the observation would be clear. The conduct of the repre



CHIAP. IV.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 85
sentative would then be invariably determined by the will of
his constituents. It might even be doubtful, whether the latter did not exercise all political power not reserved. If, on
the other hand, there is a considerable approach to that scheme,
or arrangement, the truth of the proposition will be still more
manifest. The active power of the community will be partitioned between the government and the people. The arm is
the mere servant of the will. If an individual had no immediate power in moving it, but was able to exercise an intermediate control, which might be relied upon as certain, in the
great majority of instances, it would still be correct to say,
that he exercised an important agency in determining its
movements.
The physician who is employed to cure disease, or the lawyer who is engaged to prosecute a suit, are the agents in either
case of those who apply to them. Yet the connection is not
as strict, as between the elector and the representative;. because in the case of the physician and lawyer, the skill demanded of them depends upon a body of scientific knowledge,
an acquaintance with which it is impossible for those who have
not made it a special study. More strictly is he denominated
an agent, who is selected to transact the private business of
an individual. And although this trust will require judgment,
sagacity, and industry; that is, the exercise of qualities which
belong properly to the agent, yet his conduct, so far as concerns the substantial interests of the principal, will, in ninetynine cases out of a hundred, be determined by the last.
There is this difference, however, between the two cases;
that where one man employs another to transact his private
affairs, there is a singleness, an unity of purpose, which it is
easy to impress upon the agent, but which cannot be exactly
imitated, where, instead of one agent, there are hundreds, and
instead of one principal, there are thousands. The distinction
is one of great consequence, and yet it does not detract from
the truth of the observation, that the active political power
which exists in a republic, is partitioned between the public
officers and their constituents. But the distinction points to
a very important end which representative governments is
adapted to accomplish.
For, as in order to execute the joint will of a very numerous




86              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
society, it is indispensable that agents should be employed;
these agents, whose number is very small when compared
with the whole population, act as convenient instruments for
separating the more prominent interests of society, from those
which are of less moment. Their commanding position naturally leads them, amid the great variety of discordant opinions
which are afloat, even in a small section of the country, to distinguish between those which are of vital and general importance, and those which are the offspring of temporary prejudices
and local feelings. In this way, the multifarious business of
an extensive community is brought under some systematic
rules, and a character of oneness, and uniformity is emrpressed
upon the movements of the government.
But there are instances in which the relation of principal
and agent exists in its utmost strictness. The opinions and
views which the representative is appointed to carry out, are
not at all of the same kind. Some are very complex: that is9
they require a great many acts to be done, and a variety of
unforseen circumstances to be taken into account; and there
are others, pointing to a single end, which cannot be mistaken.;
In the last, the will of the constituent may be impressed upon
the deputy, as completely as the stamp impresses its image
upon wax.
The election of president of the United States is a remarkable example of this. On that occasion, a greater number of
electors than ever was known in christendom are assembled,
and although an intermediate body is chosen by them, for the
purpose of making the election, yet those secondary electors
invariably vote for the person who has been designated for
the office by the primary electors. The result is reduced to
absolute certainty, before the colleges of electors meet. Thus
in a case where the electors are most numerous, and where it
was supposed impossible to produce anything like harmony of
opinion, the agreement is most complete. And what is of still
more importance, where the public officer is elected to preside
over the whole population, and to embrace the greatest diversity of views, a character of unity is most effectually impressed
upon him. As the extent of country, and the great number
of the electors, remove him to a great distance from the people, and tend to weaken his responsibility, it is of great con



CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                87
sequence to exhibit before his eyes an example of the facility
with which public sentiment can be united to all leading public measures, and of the equal facility with which he can either
be imade, or unmade.
In order to determine, with something like exactness, the
closeness of the relation which exists between the representative and the constituent, where the duties to be performed involve a multitude of acts, the most satisfactory method would
be to ascertain what proportion of the laws enacted have
afterwards been repealed; distinguishing between those cases
where the repeal has taken place, in consequence of the representatives having gone counter to the will of their constituents, from those where it has been brought about by a change
of opinion on the part of the people themselves. And I apprehend that cases falling under the first class would be found
to be exceedingly rare. A repeal effected by a change in
public sentiment is obviously an example of the strictness of
the relation.
It is common to talk of the powers of government, and the
liberties of the people. But this is rather in analogy with the
structure of the European communities, than in accordance
with the genius of free institutions. The people of the United
States do enjoy a very large share of liberty; but its character is such, as necessarily to endow them with a large amount
of active power. Their power constitutes the guarantee of
their liberties. When we consider, that until very recently,
all Scotland contained no greater number of electors than au
ordinary county in America; that the members of Parliament
from the cities were deputed by self-constituted bodies, composed each of thirteen persons; that a majority of the members of Parliament are now elected by a minority of the whole
number of electors; that the throne, the aristocracy, and the
ecclesiastical establishments exist, without any direct dependence upon the public will; that the right to bear arms, and
the right of association are exceedingly restricted, we may
form some idea of the importance of the distinction between
popular power, and popular liberty.
It is remarkable that the three great maxims on which republican government reposes, were recognized, and formally
promulgated, by the Italian states of the middle ages:




88              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
1st. That all authority exercised over the people originates
with the people.
2d. That all public trusts should return periodically into
the hands of the people.
3d. That all public functionaries are responsible to the
people for their fidelity in office.
And yet it would be a great mistake to suppose that the
people of these states, from the highest to the lowest, had any
more idea of free institutions, than the philosophers of their
day had of the theory of the terrestrial motions. We might
with as much propriety rob Hlervey of the credit of discovering the circulation of the blood, and attribute it to physicians
in the time of Cicero. For when we inquire who the people
(the inseparable condition of the three maxims) were, we find
that they were a mere handful of the population. In the
Florentine state, the best modeled of those republics, with a
population of more than a million, the electors never amounted
to more than twenty-four hundred; sometimes to a much less
number. And the cruelties practised by those invested with
authority, were not excelled in any of the monarchical governments of even that day.
The artificial forms of government, by the oppression, and
inequalities of one sort or another, to which they give rise,
lacerate the mind, sour the temper, and goad to revenge.
There is no escape from the ills they inflict. They are of
yesterday, to-day, and forever. Free institutions introduce
heart burnings enough into society. But these only constitute
a state of discipline, by which men are rendered more wise,
more prudent, and more just, than they would otherwise be.
A vast field is left open to individual liberty, so that the
mind, instead of being deprived of its elasticity and vigor, is
incessantly braced to fresh exertions, in order to turn all the
difficulties of life to the best account.




CHAP. V.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               89
CHAPTER V.
THE PRINCIPLE OF EQUALITY —TO WHAT EXTENT CAN IT
BE CARRIED.
IT was a great imperfection attending society before the
invention of printing, that there was no means by which
human experience could be made thoroughly available at a
subsequent period, or in remote countries. It is not only important that knowledge should be diffused among the men of
the present day; it is also important that their successes and
miscarriages should be recorded and appreciated by those who
come after them, and by those who are separated from each
other by the greatest distances. Printing has remedied this
imperfection. It not only extends information; it extends the
bounds of human experience; since this is very properly understood to include not merely what is personal to the individual, but whatever can be distinctly realized as matter of
fact. Miiere speculation does not move the great mass of mankind; but example, sympathy, imitation, all have a wonderful
influence in molding their dispositions and conduct. Those
who live apart from each other are now initiated into the form
of society, the habits of thinking, and acting, and the actual
working of the institutions which prevail among each. They
are enabled to distinguish what is practicable, from what is
proposed as a mere plausible theory; and, as very nearly the
same feelings beat in the bosom of all men, every important
amelioration of the condition of our race in one country, is
regarded as a body of experience, which may be made more
or less available in all others.
This enlargement of the bounds of human experience, so as
to take in what is transacted in distant countries, as well as
what is acted on the spot, is exemplified in the case of America.
The political institutions of the United States may be described
as the greatest experiment which has ever been made upon
human nature. Their influence upon the European mind has




90               NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BooR( i.
already been immense. It is natural, therefore, that they
should afford matter for deep contemplation, and that they
should excite interest wherever they are known.
No one has even the right to indulge in fanciful and visionary speculations as to the form into which the institutions of
society may be cast. But where our researches are pursued
with care; where they are bounded and limited on all sides
by a long and instructive experience, they may be rendered
highly instrumental in shedding light upon the two great
problems in politics: what aught, and what may be made to
be. It is not necessary that intelligence should be diffused in
exactly equal proportions, among all the individuals composing a community, in order to found free institutions. It is
true, knowledge is power, in politics as well as in private life,
and may be made the instrument of detriment as well as of
beneCfit. And if the interests of the great bulk of the population are delivered over to the less numerous body, who consist
of the enlightened, it may seem difficult to escape from the
conclusion, that a species of moral servitude must be established, let us adopt what form of government we please. Why
it is not necessary, therefore, that all the members who compose a democratic community should be raised equally high
in the scale of intelligence, and what is the extent to which
intelligence should and may be actually pushed, are necessarily inquiries of great interest and importance.
In a commonwealth where the structure of society is such
as to give rise to an uniformity of interests among the population, or to any thing approaching to it, it will, to a great
extent, supersede the necessity of an equal distribution of
knowledge. There may be the greatest diversity of knowledge
amid the greatest sameness of interests, and without occasioning the least interruption to it. Knowledge is the instrument
by which the interests of men are managed; but it is not itself, act least in its highest degree, one of those interests. And
if inl a state where the elective principle prevails, this settled
uniformity of interests is the result of causes which are inherent in the framework of society, public men will be disabled from interfering with the interests of others, without
dealing wantonly with their own. The same laws which govern the ruled, govern also the rulers. The ability to act is




CHAP. V.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 91
restrained and limited by the principle of self interest. And
the administration of public affairs is obliged to take a direction conformable to the public welfare, because the general
welfare and private interests meet and terminate at the same
point.
But this approach to an identity of interests among the
whole community, does diffuse knowledge to precisely ithe
extent which is wanted:  1st. Because it renders the intercourse of all classes more thorough and easy. 2d. Because it
presupposes a tolerably equal distribution of property, and
the diffusion of knowledge is inseparable from that of property. Not that the elevated attainments of the intellectual class
will become the common property of the whole people, for
that can never be; but that species of knowledge which has
to do with the material interests of this world, will insinuate
itself into' the minds of all. Our acquaintance with any subject is in proportion to the concentration of the attention upon
it; and the great bulk of the population, by having their attention constantly fixed upon that sphere of ideas which
incloses all their substantial interests, may be trained to a
degree of knowledge which will be more effectual for the purposes of society than the greatest learning, and the profoundest attainments. What is lost in variety and comprehensiveness, will be more than made up by the practicable and
serviceable character of the knowledge actually acquired.
If in France, before the revolution, four-fifths of the landed
property of the kingdom was engrossed by the nobility and
clergy; and if in the United States there is no such artificial
monopoly, but the division of the soil has followed the natural
direction which private enterprise and industry gave to it; the
great difference in the structure of society in the two countries
is sufficiently explained. All the moral causes, which in the
last country now contribute to perpetuate the existing state
of society, may be fairly deduced from this simple arrangement in the beginning. The principle of equality has thus
found a natural support in America. It has not been the
creature of the laws. These assist in upholding it, by giving
it a visible activity in public life; but both it and the laws
are the offspring of circumstances, which no legislature could
have had power to alter.




~2              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
Two inquiries of exceeding interest now present themselves:
1st. To what extent is political equality dependent upon the
natural or civil equality of men; and to what extent can the
last be pushed. 2d. If political equality is itself the result
of causes which are peculiar to America, and these causes
should cease to act, or act with less force at a future period;
may not the political institutions, and the form of government,
undergo in the progress of time, an entire revolution. Each
of the propositions: the laws secure political equality; and
the laws have sprung from a given state of society; are clear
enough. But it is important that our speculations should be
built upon something more than a barren generality; that, so
addressing ourselves to the reason of mankind, we may employ our own reason in throwing out hints for their meditation.
The distribution of property in any community, will depend
in some degree upon the amount of the population. In a
state which is densely peopled, there will probably be a very
large class of rich, and a still more numerous class of poor.
Not that this proportion may not exist, where the population
is thin. For it was undoubtedly the same, or even greater in
the European states, five hundred years ago, than it is at
present, although the population has more than trebled in
that time. But in the one case, there is at least a physical
possibility of rectifying the proportion, which does not exist
in the other. Where there are large tracts of uncultivated
land, human ingenuity and industry, with a very slight assistance from the laws, may succeed in placing private fortune
more upon a level. But where the soil has been appropriated
for centuries, the inequality which shows itself, after a long
period of commercial and agricultural activity, must be ascribed in part to that very ingenuity and industry, and in great
part also, to the political institutions themselves.
But within certain limits, an increase of population may be
highly favorable to the distribution of property. Capital and
labor are augmented by it; and the supply of both affords
the means of breaking up large estates into smaller parcels.
It is only when the population becomes very dense, that on
the one hand capital accumulates to such a degree as to create




CHAP. V.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                93
a large class of rich; and that on -the other, labor becomes
superabundant, which gives rise to a still larger class of poor.
There are several causes which tend to counteract the increase of population, when it has reached a certain degree of
density. The mortality becomes greater, the births fewer, and
the average age of marriage higher. But these changes do
not all of them take place, with anything like the regularity
which might be expected. For instance, it appears to be certain that the mortality in Great Britain is much less than it
has been at any preceding period: that it is less than it was
when the population was only one-half what it is now. Lord
Brougham computes it at 1.58; Mr. Malthus at 1,51; while the
census of 1839, taken since, and the only accurate register
which has ever been made, finds it to be 1.45. The two first
would have been an enormously low proportion. The last is
low, and indicates a less mortality than in any country which
ever existed, and containing an equally dense population.
Although the population has increased greatly within the last
fifty years, yet the general standard of comfort throughout
the island has improved in a still higher proportion. And
although it cannot be true, as has been conjecturally estimated, that the average age of death, or the expectation of life
at birth, has mounted up from sixteen to thirty-three years,
it is plain that it must be greatly higher than it was sixty or
seventy years ago.
But increase the population a few millions more, and the mortality would then tell in a greatly increased ratio. Whatever
may be the increase, however, and in spite of all the influences
which have hitherto been brought to bear upon society, there
is a tendency in every civilized community, to such an augmentation of the population as is inconsistent with anything like
an equal distribution of property. Even the equal partibility
of inheritances only partially corrects the evil. Primtogeniture was unknown in the Grecian or Roman commonwealths.
In France it never prevailed universally. And in Spain equal
partibility was always the rule, and primogeniture the exception. Yet in all these states there existed extreme inequality
in private fortunes. The laws, the character of the government, may do much toward either promoting, or preventing
the disparity of estates. And it is one reason why free institu



94              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
tions are preferable to any other, that they contribute to produce this last effect. But the inquiry of greatest moment is,
whether there are any laws of our nature which, independently of the political institutions, or with every assistance
which they may legitimately afford, can have power to establish and maintain anything approaching to an equality of private fortunes. It seems natural to suppose, that when we are
in possession of an advantage up to a certain degree, that it
may be pushed on to a still higher degree; and so on indefinitely; and that cannot be an impossible state of society,
which only consists in the addition to actually existing factsof facts of the same kind. And this would undoubtedly be a
correct mode of reasoning, if the new facts to be added did
not depelld upon the voluntary action of a vast multitude of
persons, among whom there exists the greatest diversity of
dispositions.
In tracing the generality of individuals through life, and
observing how they conduct themselves, and the vehement
struggle to acquire property, it is remarkable how little difference we can discover between the capacities of those who succeed, and of those who fail. Some move forward with'amazing velocity, to the end they have in view, and heap riches
upon riches; some lag behind, and are only able, through the
whole of life, to obtain a comfortable subsistance; while others
continue in a state of painful destitution, from the beginning
to the end of their career. And yet but for the result, which,
to ordinary observation, seems to set the stamp of superiority
upon some, we should not be able, in the majority of instances,
to perceive any adequate reason for so striking a dcifference.
So far as the faculties of those individuals, either natural or
acquired, are concerned, there seems to be no very material
difference. But that there must be some difference, in that
undefinable quality which we term the disposition, is clear;
otherwise the consequences would not follow. We know too
little of the individual man, to be able to handle, with anything like accuracy and discrimination, the secret springs which
actuate human conduct. A fine writer has remarked of the
character of the Emperor Napoleon, that it has presented a
problem to be studied. But in truth, the character of almost
all the individuals we meet with, however obscure they may




CHAP. V.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                95
be, and however limited their faculties, presents very nearly
the same problem. Whoever was able to unravel the mind of
the least of these, would be able to decipher that of Napoleon
at a glance.
Some men are roused and quickened by adversity, while the
faculties of others are clouded, and overwhelmed by it. Some
are strengthed by prosperity; others are blinded and led
astray by it. And as there is an endless variety in the working of these causes, arising from inconceivably small differences of temperament, and the perpetual interference of what
is termed accident, their successes and miscarriages, will be
marked by innumerable shades of difference, too secret, and
too fine, for our analysis. It seems certain, however, that
until we can master man's nature, it will be impossible to
impress anything like an exact similarity of character upon
individuals. And he who cannot take to pieces his own mind,
must necessarily fall infinitely short of that task. The division of labor, which is introduced so extensively into every
department of industry, is both a consequence and a cause of
the inequality in the fortunes and condition of individuals.
But if that were banished from society, not the ten-thlousandth
part of the comforts and enjoyments of life would exist for
any one. To say every one should be his own builder, manufacturer and cultivator; to declare that each one should be
tailor, shoemaker, cook, would be very nearly the same as
saying, that there should be no houses, no decent and comfortable clothing, and a very scanty supply of food. There would
be nothing to set in motion that immense mass of industry
which now affords employment and subsistence to the multi.
tudes of men. The population would be gradually drawn
within the narrow limits of a savage tribe; the most opulent
and flourishing community would be carried back to the primitive state of barbarism. The annihilation of industry as a
system, would involve the annihilation of all moral and intellectual culture.
At the same time, it is evident that the division of labor,
which bestows such countless advantages upon society, can
not exist without giving rise to very great inequality among
individuals.'It is only necessary to consider any of the most
inconsiderable of the objects of mechanical skill, to be assured




96              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [nooK I.
of this fact. The workman who is employed in the manufacture of knives, or pins, is condemned to an occupation which,
turn the subject in whatever light we may, cannot possibly
improve his fortune, or elevate his faculties, so as to place
him on a level with the master manufacturer. Nor would it
remedy the difficulty, to divide the profits of the last equally
among all the workmen; for even admitting that he would
feel the same powerful stimulus as before, in the prosecution
of his business, now that the disposition of his own property
was violently interfered with; and that the workmen would
submit to the same patient and indefatigable industry, without which the plan must fail; this distribution would only tantalize, without satisfying, the desires of any one. What would
be a splendid income for one man, would, when divided among
hundreds, be no sensible addition to their enjoyments. There
must be some wise purpose intended in this constitution of
society. It may be, that in a civilized community, this variety in the pursuits of individuals is absolutely necessary
to maintain the mind in a sound and healthful condition; or
it may be, that employment and occupation, without regard to
the variety of pursuts to which they lead, are indispensable
to balance the mind, and to restrain the animal propensities
within due bounds; for without the division of labor, there
would not only be little or no variety, but the occupations would
nearly all cease to exist. At the same time, it is clear, that
while some are engaged in the higher and more important part
of the work, others must be engaged in the inferior, and subordinate branches. So that to maintain civilization at all, there
must be inequality in the fortunes and condition of individuals. There is no escape from our human condition, whatever may be the shape into which the elements of society are
thrown.
If we suppose that the distribution of the incomes of capitalists, would place so large a number of the operatives in an
improved condition, as to withdraw them from work, the supply of labor would be diminished, wages would rise, there
would be more leisure, greater opportunities. But the high
wages would in a single generation, lead to an increase of the
population, to a supply of the demand, and to a renewal of
the old state of things.




CHAP. V.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               97
The distribution of property by law, even if it placed every
one in comfortable circumstances, would paralyze the springs
of industy. It would diminish the vigor and activity of those
who had acquired much, and increase the sloth and inertness
of those who had acquired nothing. The equal division of
fortunes would apparently tend to an equality of enjoyments;
while an equality of industry and exertions, which is of far
more consequence, would be overlooked. If all were placed
in prosperous circumstances for one year, the next would witness the decline of great numbers; and in a few more there
would be the same inequality as before. We would absurdly
introduce equality for the purpose of bringing out inequality.
It would seem that not only our own infirmties, but that
the infirmities of those around us, are absolutely necessary to
goad any one to exertion. They who propose the plan of distribution, or, which is the same thing, to make the people work
in common like so many galley slaves, forget that the true
way of strengthening the public virtues is to nourish the private affections, and that to turn all our efforts exclusively in
one direction, would be to eradicate some of the best qualities
of human nature. That is the best, because it is the natural,
arrangement of society, which gives full play to the faculties
of all orders of men. If it is beyond our power to control the
private affections-if we cannot make men love other men's
children as they do their own-it must be equally impossible
to control the exertions which are the fruit of these affections.
The instinct which leads men to become the center of a family,
is as much a part of his constitution as that which leads him
to society. To give an undue preponderance to one of these,
would not be the application of a new regimen to his conduct;
it would be a vain attempt to alter the laws which govern his
nature. All the private affections, in reality, conspire to the
general weal. They introduce into the moral world the great
principle of the division of labor. More industry and sagacity
are exerted —a greater amount of both public and private
virtue is developed, than under any other government. To
dislocate, therefore, any of the important springs of human
conduct-to declare that one should have the mastery-would
establish a state of society in which we should avail ourselves
of only half the man.
7




98              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK I.
If we could realize the views of Mr. Malthus, and introduce
into a population which was threatening to become crowded
the general prevalence of the check to early marriages, it
would be followed by some very salutary consequences. But to
carry it as far as is desirable, and so as to make it tell with a
decisive and permanent influence upon society, might be attended with very many disadvantages. The idea is, that it
would be an effectual way of elevating the condition of the
masses, because it would keep down the numbers, and render
the circumstances of the actual population more easy. Let us
suppose then that the check had begun to operate in England
about seventy years ago. Wages might now be so high as to
cause every department of industry to languish. English
manufacturers would have been undersold in every foreign
market. Other nations would have been in a condition to
supply the English people with every species of manufacture,
and every article of food. But the last would be deprived of
the means of purchasing from other nations, and the consequence is, that England may have been one of the poorest
instead of the richest country in Europe. The more thin
population which would now exist, would be in infinitely worse
circumstances than at present. In Norway, the check to early
marriages exists in greater force than anywhere else, and it is
a poor country, and an abject population.
I know nothing which would confer more salutary and lasting benefits upon society, than to raise the general standard
of comfort of the population; provided, it be done without
prodacing effects which would counteract its operation. But
to raise the standard of comfort in any European community
as high as every lover of humanity would desire, would be the
same as to raise wages so high as to enable every one to maintain his family in comfort, and to give them an education.
And the consequences would be the same as before. The
country would be undersold in every article of production;
every branch of industry would decline, until a foreign population poured in, to receive lower wages, when the standard of
comfort would be again reduced. The plan would undoubtedly succeed if we could introduce it alike into all countries.
But if it has entirely failed in any one, except to be taken
notice of by way of comparison with the condition of some




CHAP. V ]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               99
others, it would require the will of Omnipotence to accomplish it.
All human exertions to better the social organization must
necessarily be bounded within certain limits. Something must
be taken for granted, as the elements of all our reasoning in
politics as well as in other sciences. We cannot be permitted
to construct ideas, which a fertile imagination has suggested,
and which only approach toward being verified in part, because they cannot be verified universally.
Let us suppose that all those who have succeeded in life,
and who are placed in good circumstances, were to go among
the poor and ignorant, open up all the secrets of their hearts,
recount the whole train of circumstances which contributed to
elevate their condition, I can conceive of nothing which, for
the time being, would so much expand the bosoms of those
who believed, either rightly or erroneously, that fortune had
frowned upon them. But, first: the thing cannot be done.
Such a fearless and unreserved revelation of one's whole
thoughts and actions can proceed from none but angels.
Second: the exposition of so great an amount of infirmities,
as the revelation would disclose, and as would be shown to
attend frequently the most enviable condition, would cause
the vicious and the ignorant to hug vice and ignorance still
closer. The greater part would become more bold and confident than ever, since there was no such broad mark of distinc
tion, as had been imagined, between the highest and lowest
condition. And one great check to irregularities of conduct
would be removed. The counselors and the counseled in such
an enterprise are equally covered with all sorts of infirmities.
And the true way to get rid of these is to proceed upon the
belief that they do not exist, or, at any rate, that they are only
adventitious. In this way every one will be nerved to a greater
amount of exertion tban would otherwise be the case. If those
who are placed in what is termed low life could penetrate the
gaudy exterior of high life, they would find as little enjoyment
as in their own humble sphere. Wealth creates full as many
disquietudes as it heals. Fortunately they are unable to lift
the veil; for then, perhaps, all human exertions would speedily come to an end.
It may then be inquired why do legislators constantly incul



100              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
cate the maxim that all men are equal. And the answer is
plain: First. Because to teach and to act upon it is the only
way of attaining equality, to the extent to which it is actually
attained. Second. Because it is not in the power of government to make anything like an accurate discrimination between
the inelqualities of different men, and the attempt to do so
would be to encroach upon those points in which there is no
inequality. Third. Because the principle of equality may very
well be recognized as the rule among men as citizens-as members of a political community, although as individuals there
may be great and numerous inequalities between them. The
utmost which the citizen can demand is that no law shall be
passed to obstruct his rise, and to impede his progress through
life. He has then an even chance with all his fellows. If he
does not become their equal his case is beyond the reach of
society, and to complain would be to quarrel with his own
nature.
It cannot be concealed that a difficulty now presents itself
which is entitled to particular attention. Here are two sets of
ideas which do not quadrate with each other: equality proclaimed by the laws, and inequality in fact. And as, notwithstanding the artificial distinctions which we may make between
the individual and the citizen, the former may be disposed to
carry all his prejudices, narrow views, and selfish interests,
into the arena of politics, it might be supposed that a scene, of
discord would be introduced, which., after lasting for a given
period, must terminate in the ascendency of one or other of
these rival 1principles. Hence the misgivings of many persons
otherwise possessing good sense and reflection in an eminent
degree. If they do not believe, they at any rate doubt whether
the unuisguised recognition of the principle of equality in
America is not destined to take entire possession of society,
and ultimately to level the whole fabric of its institutions..
The masses are put in possession of the same privileges
as the educated and the wealthy; and, in the event of a
struggle between the two orders, will not numbers be sure to
gain the advantage?
But the principle of equality is itself the parent of another
principle, which sets bounds to it, and limits its operation in
practice. The same laws which declare that all men are equal,




CHAP. V.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                101
give unbounded scope to the enterprise and industry of all.
Neither family, nor rank, nor education confer any peculiar
advantages in running the career which is now opened. In
many respects they even throw obstacles in the way. Men
without education, with ordinary faculties, and who commenced life with little or nothing, are continually emerging
from obscurity, and displacing those who have acquired fortunes by inheritance. They constitute emphatically the class
of rich in the United States. It is the principle of equality
there which introduces all the inequality which is established
in that country. The effects are visible to every one, and are
understood and appreciated by the most ignorant men. Every
one is a witness to the miracles which industry and common
sagacity produce. No one distrusts himself; no one can perceive those minute shades of character and disposition, which
determine the destiny of some individuals, making some rich,
and leaving others poor. All place an equal reliance upon
their own efforts to carve out their fortunes,, until at length
the period of life begins to shorten; when cool reflection and
judgment take the place of the passions; and whether they
have succeeded or failed, a new feeling comes over every one
-a disposition to submit quietly to what is the inevitable,
because it is the natural progress of things.
Thus as it is impossible among millions to say who, in running the career of wisdom, influence, or wealth, will attain the
goal. Government very rightly establishes the broad and ildiscriminate rule of equality, and the very means which it
makes use of to effect this object, obliterates all artificial
distinction, and yet brings out in bolder relief all the natural
inequalities of men. And as a large proportion of the envious
are constantly rising into the ranks of the envied, a powerful
check is imposed upon the revolutionary tendenies of the
former. They cannot reach, nor after reaching, will they be
able to enjoy, that which is the constant aim of all their efforts,
without lending an earnest and vigorous support to the laws
under which they live. And in this way, free institutions are
saved from shipwreck, by the thorough and undisguised adoption of a principle which seemed calculated to produce precisely opposite effects. It affords a remarkable example of the
intimate union between two things apparently contradictory;




102              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [nooI I.
and to what an extent the system of compensations exists in
a country of free institutions, by means of which the defects
of one part are cured by some effectual contrivance in another.
Hence the surprise which has been constantly expressed by
Europeans, from the day the corner-stone of the American
government was laid, down to the present, that although a
degree of liberty has been communicated to the people, utterly
unknown at any preceding period, society exhibits more evidence of happiness and prosperity than are visible anywhere
else; that for so large an empire, woiiderful tranquility prevails; and that the political institutions, instead of lpsing
strengths are in reality increasing in solidity and firmness.
There does exist in that community, as much as in any other,
a powerful control upon the unruly elements of society. But
this is not the result of an artificial system; the control is
wider in its operation than anywhere else; and it is, for that
reason, more effectual than in any other government.
They who entertain fears that the enjoyment of so much
liberty in the United States will exert any other than a favorable influence upon the social organization, and the political institutions, should recollect that equality may be a regulative
principle of the highest importance, without ever being pushed
to anything like the furthest extent. The laws may presuppose the possibility of pushing it so far, just as the precepts
of morality suppose, that they may be carried in great perfection into the practice of an individual. The advantage of having some great principle constantly in view, is that it will then
be sure of having some influence upon some individuals, and
a very great influence upon all others. Human nature modifies and sets bounds to all laws; but in order to render the
principle of equality efficacious as a regulative principle, it is
necessary to admit the abstract rule in all its universality.
The more widely the rules of morality are circulated, and the
more earnestly they are insisted upon, the greater will be the
number of those whose conduct will be formed by them:- and
the more thoroughly the maxim  of equality is taught, the
more numerous will be the persons who will strive to make
themselves equal to the wisest and best. More vigor, enterprize, and intelligence, will be imparted to every one; and
the moral force communicated to society will contribute to




CHAP. v.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               103
rectify the very disorders which are supposed to be inseparable from the recognition of the principle.
Although then the struggle for equality never can produce
equality inii fact, yet there is an immensely wide scope within
which it may operate. If the wealthy, and those who found
themselves upon the advantages of family, and rank, feel
themselves inconmomded by this eternal jostling-this continued struggle of inferior classes to rise to their level-i can
easily conceive that the inconvenience may be productive of
very great advantage.
If the difference between the higher and lower classes, in
point of morals and intelligence, is not so great as is supposed; if the former wear, for the most part, an outside show;
the struggle for equality, by unveiling them, by exposing their
false pretensions, will apply a sort of coercive influence to
compel them to act up to the duties of their station. They
will at first endeavor to rid themselves of the inconvenience,
by descending to the level of the lowest-by imitating their
manners, and truckling to their prejudices. The effect will
not be lasting; the plan cannot be carried out. And, after
vain efforts to reconcile qualities the most incompatible, they
will be driven to the necessity of cultivating habits which, as
they most become, so they are universally expected from them.
If adversity contributes to elevate the human character, and
if the struggle for equality is to be regarded as a species of
adversity which is constantly present with us, it cannot fail to
exercise a salutary influence. The diffusion of property and
education are not sufficient to produce the degree of reflection
which is requisite to maintain free institutions. The acquisition of property, notwithstanding its manifold benefits, has a
tendency to undo all that education has done. The affluent
become too contented, too self-complacent, to be either virtuous or wise. The ever-enduring struggle for equality is the
only agent which, united with property and education, will
conduce to the right ordering of society.




104             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BooIE L.
CHAPTE1R  VI.
THE ELECTORAL FRANCHISE.
THERE are two plans upon which we may proceed in forming a constitution of government. By one, the political power
is vested in a select number, composing what is termed the
aristocracy of wealth and talent; and to accomplish this, the
electoral franchise, and the eligibility to office, are both restricted. The advantages of the plan are supposed to consist
in the greater stability of the public administration, and the
superior energy which the government will possess, in suppressing every species of insubordination. The second plan
opens the door wide to the electoral privilege, and the admission to office. Doubtless the great problem in political science
is to procure the greatest amount of liberty, consistent with the
greatest d:gree of public tranquility. And as we are compelled
to take for granted, that a large portion of the vice and licentiousness which have characterized the people of former times
will always be found in society, it may be argued that the
first plan is the safest and most judicious; but the republics
which flourished in Italy, in the thirteenth and fourteenth
centuries, were modeled upon this plan, and yet were a prey
to the most atrocious violence and tyranny. For after this
disposition is made of the poltical power, the question still
occurs: in what way shall the governors themselves be governed? A large share of authority is conferred upon the government, for the purpose of preserving order, and yet this
authority is without any effectual control. Opening the door
wide to every species of political privilege, is the most certain
means of increasing the natural aristocracy, and of combining
vigor in the government with popular freedom. For it is remarkable that although in the Italian republics, the public
officers were generally elected for very limited terms, for six,
and sometimes for so short a time as two months, it imposed




CHAP. VI. 3      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               105
no check upon the exercise of the most arbitrary authority.
The moral sense-the perception of the plain distinction between right and wrong, was wanting in the whole community.
There was ample power and opportunity to render the principle of responsibility a powerful restraint upon the conduct of
public men; but there was no adequate appreciation of that
conduct; no more meaning was attached to the words just
and unjust, than belonged to them in the monarchical governments of western and northern Europe; —a striking example
of the important agency which the political institutions have
in forming the manners and habits of different nations. In
all those communities, the select few who were chosen to
conduct the public administration were thorougly trained to
the requisite skill and intelligence: in the Italian republics
to a much greater extent than in Great Britain and France,
because at that day, the electoral franchise was much less restricted in the former. If, then, we extend political privileges
of every kind still further, and convert the great body of the
peo ple into citizens, the conclusion is fair that the same skill
and intelligence will be diffused among the whole population.
Now, it is these very qualities which develop that moral sensethat quick perception of what is right or wrong in the conduct
of public men-which I have noticed as being so deficient in
the Italian communities. The men who held important posts
in Genoa, Venice and Florence, were sufficiently instructed, in
consequence of their situation, in everything which affected
their own interests. But those interests were, by set design,
placed in contradiction with those of the mass of the people.
Impart to the latter thee same privileges, and the contradiction
will disappear. For inasmuch as these will feel an equally
strong interest in the protection of their own rights, and will
possess the moral power to enforce them, public men will
be compelled to conform their conduct more and more to
this altered state of public sentiment. The standard of right
and wrong will of necessity, and not from choice, have a just
and definite meaning.  No education can instill the moral
sense in any individual. But a certain train of circumstances,
and the discipline to which these subject the actions of men,
are indispensable in order to develop it and keep it in constant activity.




106             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOO1 I.
In the history of society we may remark three distinct
grades of liberty, which have existed in different governments.
The first is where freedom is confined to the governors. This
is the case in pure monarchy and aristocracy. Although the
governments of Russia and Denmark are in no sense free, yet
the Danish and Russian nobility, at any rate, enjoy as much
political liberty as the American people. But the Danish and
Russian people enjoy none. The second is where the people
are divided into active and passive citizens; the former possessing political liberty, while the latter live securely in the
en.Joyment of civil liberty.only. The British government is
the fairest example of this class which has ever existed.
The third is where all the people are full and com.lldete citizens, possessing both civil and political privileges. This can
only be the case in a country where free institutions are established.
It is not difficult to account for this great diversity in the
structure of different governments. Society everywhere appears to have been at a very early period divided into distinct
classes. This institution was, by no means, peculiar to Egypt
and Hindostan.  But the superstitious observances which
were ingrafted upon it in those countries, and the immobile
character of the population which prolonged its duration,
have rendered it more striking than anywhere else.
The separation of the people into different orders lay at the
foundation of the Grecian and Roman commonwealths. It
may be distinctly traced in the history of all the modern European States; and vestiges more or less plain are discernible
in the most of them down to the present day. The division
of the population into nobility, clergy, burgesses, and peasantry, constituted at one time the settled classification of society in England and Scotland. Some of the ancient charters
and statutes even went as far as the, Roman laws, in forbidding inter-marriages among some of the classes. Guardians
were prohibited from "disparaging their wards by wedlock
with persons of an inferior condition."  An inferior caste was
recognized, into which the military tenants could not marry
without degradation. It is not necessary to account for this
from the fact that, long after the Saxon conquest, the Roman
law  composed the groundwork of the jurisprudence. The




CHIAP. VI.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                107
operation of the same general laws, which gave rise everywhere else to the existence of fixed classes, produced the
same effect in England. No doubt now remains but that the
institutions originally grew out of conquest-probably out of
successive conquests. The conquerors composed the superior,
tbe conquered the inferior ranks. In the course of time the
different races in England and Scotland were melted into one.
And the progress of civilization in the other European states
has, in a great measure, obliterated this as well as every other
remnant of an antiquated society.
It is not the least remarkable of the circumstances attending the first settlement of the United States, that the native
polpulation were so thin and so immensely inferior to the emigrants, that it disappeared as fast as these advanced. If the
country had been as fully peopled as Mexico, great difficulties would have presented themselves in the formation of that
system of uniform institutions which now exist. The Indian
race would have been disfranchised, precisely as are the Africans in both the northern and southern States. They would
have composed as distinct a caste as these last do. The distinction would have been nearly the same as prevails in Hindostan.
The most obvious idea which we can form of government is
that it is an institution intended for the common benefit of
the whole people. Nor is there any difficulty in realizing this
idea, where the population does not consist of different races.
Mhere varieties of the same race oppose no obstacle, as has
been proved in America, where one uniform  system of laws
causes these varieties to disappear in two or three generations.
But where the community is artificially distributed into classes
which possess unequal privileges, the term government loses
its just signification. One part of the population is then forcibly elevated, and another depressed; and civil society becomes an institution, exclusively appropriated to the advantage of the former. The great body of the people live under,
but not in it.
The disposition which governments shall make of the electoral franchise is destined to exercise a more important influence upon human affairs, than any other political regulation
of whichb I am aware. And the reason is obvious. There is




108             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [nOOK I.
none which is calculated to produce so deep an impression
upon the structure of society, and at the same time to affect so
fundamentally the form of the government. The tendency
everywhere at the present day, is to extend the privilege. For
every enlargement of it increases the demand, by raising up
a greater number of people who are fitted to exercise it. The
improvement of the political institutions, and the improvement of the population, go hand in hand.
Why are the people in mass admitted to the electoral franchise in the United States, is a problem which has constantly
exercised my mind. Wherever I cast my eyes, I seemed to
see evidence of its being a solecism in politics. If I walked
the streets of city or town, for one tolerably informed individual, I met with twenty who were the reverse. If I traveled
on the highway, the same fact was exhibited even more glaringly.  The great majority of persons I met, appeared to
know nothing beyond the narrow circle of their daily occupations.
But there is another fact equally striking, which presented
itself to my mind, although the number of intelligent was in
so small a proportion to the ignorant, the number of bad, or
improvident laws, compared with those which were wise and
salutary, was in an inverse ratio. They were even greatly less
than one in twenty. I observed that the greatest stability
reigned in those matters which concerned the general welfare.
I witnessed a great deal of party strife; but in taking an
account of the legislation for any series of years, I could not
discover that there had been any material departure from one
uniform system which had prevailed from the beginning. The
constitutions of the different states did not appear to be the
work of ignorant men; the whole code of civil and criminal
law was modeled with as much judgment and ability as if
none but the well informed had been the electors.
There are two forces necessary to conduct the affairs of society: 1st. A certain amount of intelligence. 2d. A certain
amount of integrity, or honesty of purpose. Now, admitting
that so far as intelligence is concerned, it would be expedient
to entrust the whole administration of the government to that
very small class who possess intelligence; yet as the possession of office is corrupting in a high degree, the experiment




CHAP. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               109
must necessarily be a failure: that is, the affairs of government would be so conducted as to subserve the interests of
those who enjoyed a monopoly of power, and not the interests
of the whole community. Some plan must then be fallen
upon, even though it should be in many respects imperfect,
in order to rectify this great defect in the composition of society. We cannot find the requisite qualities of intelligence
and honesty of purpose always united in the same individuals;
but if we can find the intelligence in one class, and the honesty of purpose, though without the intelligence, in another,
we may combine the two together, making one people of them,
and thus answer the conditions of the problem we are in
search of. it will be no answer to say that this will be done
imperfectly. This is admitted; for every instrument of government must partake of the defect of the materials from
which it is made. But it will be correct to say, that the plan
will be more efficacious than any other which can be devised.
It may be objected that honesty of purpose is no more characteriatic of the masses than it is of the intelligent, that it is
even less so, a certain amount of intelligence being necessary
to make up the character of integrity in its genuine signification; that the common people are as much addicted to the
practice of over-reaching each other in their dealings as any
other class. This will also be admitted. But the material
inquiry is, whether they are, or in the nature of things can
be, so much so in.  what concerns public affairs. A small
number of men to whom the electoral franchise, and eligibility to office, were confined, might very easily live upon the
people. The taxes extracted from them, would be sufficient
to gratify the most extravagant desires, and the most insatiable avarice. But it is impossible for the people to live upon
the people. The taxes imposed are only sufficient to pay the
small number who conduct the machinery of government,.and
the amount necessary for this must be derived from their
labor. So far as regards the expenditure of public money,
the common people may be considered as possessing honesty
of purpose in a political sense, in a high degree. They are
deeply interested in preventing the public revenue from being
squandered. This integrity of conduct may be a negative
quality, but it is not the less efficacious on that account. In




110              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOKi I.
politics, positive and negative qualities sometimes count for
the same. It is the matter of fact we have to deal with; and
it is clear that the interest of the people is identical with that
of the public, for they are the public. But the interest of the
office holders may be directly opposed to that of the public.
It is self-interest which renders the former honest in political
matters, and it is the same quality which, under the guise of
a half-courtly, half-sanctimonious exterior, helps to make the
latter corrupt.
It is in this way that we may account for what would otherwise appear to be an anomaly in the institutions of the United
States: the permitting all classes to exercise the electoral
franchise. It would seem at first view that we should have
regard not merely to the number, but to the intensity of the
wills intended to be represented. And this is true, provided
this intensity of will, or superior intelligence, was free from
the vice of selfishness, and manifested itself in a due comprehension of the public interests, and an inflexible will in pursuing them. But as we cannot find the two elements combined in one class, we are driven to the expedient of admitting
all classes to participation in the electoral franchise. The
power of control which is thus possessed by the governed
over the governing, is indispensable in order to obtain all the
ends of good government.
The system contains within itself a self corrective principle.
The longer the people are habituated to the exercise of the
franchise, the more completely will they grow into it. In
France, when the revolution broke out, no class possessed the
right of voting for any purpose. None had any voice in constituting any one of the departments of government. The
consequence was, that the men of letters, the merchants,
monied men, and principal tradesmen, were the instigators,
and chief actors in that revolution. Had they been accustomed for a very long period to the exercise of the privilege,
the government would have undergone a gradual reformation.
In the three first volumes of Mr. Bancroft's history, the first rudiments of American institutions, are set forth with great judgment, and perspicuity. The historian deduces from the events
he relates, the important fact, that whenever the people were
left to themselves, and were rid of the rule of royal or pro



CHPi. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                111
prietary government, their affairs were conducted with the
greatest judgment and address. If any one should say, "1 admit the great body of the people to the elective franchise, but
exclude the lowest class;" the answer is, that in a community
where there has been a pretty equal distribution of property
from the beginning, the mischiefs arising from the possession
of political rights by even the lowest class, will be altogether
less, than in a country where everything has commenced wrong,
and where the laws are studiously intent on condensing property in the hands of a few. The lowest class will not be of
sufficient magnitude in the former, to make.any sensible impression upon the result of the vote. The United States are
the first country which has made the experiment upon a large
scale, and it is of infinite moment to pursue it until its practicability is fairly tested. The lowest class have a stake in the
commonwealth as well as any other class; they are the most
defenceless portion of the population; and the sense of independence which the enjoyment of political rights inspires, in
innumerable instances acts as a stimulus to the acquisition of
property. If the experiment fails, if the intervention of the
lowest class in the elections, exercises too disturbing an influence upon the motions of the government, the expedient
which has been adopted in the government of cities, and
towns may be easily resorted to. The difficulty would be exceedingly great, impossible I may say, of effecting a change
now. The lowest class are for the most part laborers, but
their wages are such as to enable them to live in great comfort; they are closely connected with the great class which
stands above them; and the sympathy which exists between
the two, would not permit the enactment of any law which
should exclude the former from their present position. But if
a host of proletarians should rise up, whose voice in the government was detrimental to the public interests, unfriendly to
the maintenance of that order, regularity, and justice, which
makes up the true idea of a commonwealth, the feeling of
sympathy would be lost, and as there would be no motive for
continuing a rule after the reason for it has ceased, the great
body of the commonwealth, who will forever be the majority,
would unite in imposing some restriction on the electoral franchise.




112              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOR I.
One very important consequence follows from these views;
that it will be necessary to enlarge the rule of eligibility to
office in the same proportion as that for the electoral franchise.
If one is without restriction, the other should be so also. The
ground upon which the argument in the first part proceeds, is that
it is impossible to find in one class all the qualities which are
requisite to good government. But if we find them separately
existing in two classes, we may by combining them into one
class for political purposes, attain the desired end. Although
honesty in political matters may simply consist in an instinctive resistance of the general interest to the private interest of
a few, yet if in practice the consequences are the same, as if it
proceeded from natural integrity of character, the legislator
will have attained all he has any right to expect. The public
interest is promoted by honest views. If honesty of purpose
is the moving spring, the end is attained in its greatest per
fection. If on the other hand, an interest in the general weal
is the moving spring, the same political end is attained. As
a substitute for a property qualification for office, some have
proposed to place the age of the candidate high, to require
that they should be forty or forty-five before admission
even to the legislative body. This is evidently impractible,
unless we raise the requisite age of the voters also. It is they
who determine the rule of eligibility to office, and it is very
improbable that they would deprive themselves of the privilege. But there are very wise reasons why this restriction
should not be imposed. It would lower instead of elevating
the capacity of candidates for office. At present, electors are
the persons elected, and these again fall into the body of electors. If the legislature then, is a school of discipline for those
who compose it, it is equally so for the electors. In this way
a most advantagous influence is exercised upon the whole mass,of the population. The consciousness that they are electors,
and that they may be elected to a place of trust, sharpens the
minds of individuals, and even amidst the confusion of party
politics, rears up a much greater number of sagacious, and
well informed persons, than might at first be supposed. If
during the last seventy years, all the citizens under firty had
been debarred from the elective franchise, or entering the legislative assemblies in America, there would have been less in



CHAP. \AT.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                113
stead of more order in the conduct of public affairs; for the
great mass of the population would have possessed less intelligence, sagacity and prudence.  Bacon has said that there is
"'but one mode of predicting political events, and that is by
ascertaining the predominant opinions of the average of men
who are under thirty." We are enabled to do this in a clear,
determinate, and legal way, by endowing them with political
privileges. It is for this reason, that even in the constitutional
monarchies of England and France, the-age of the electors and
members of the legislature is placed so low. Some of the
states which compose the Swiss confederacy, have erred on
the other side. The age in some is so low as eighteen, and in
others sixteen. The legislative assembly is the place where
opinions are discussed, and where alone materials can be collected for predicting, as well as for providing for the future.
It is very important that the opinions of the young should
mingle with those of mature age. If inconvenience is experienced from the ardent character of the one, fully as much
would be suffered from the narrow and obstinate prejudices of
the other. The political prosperity of the United States, the
stability in the midst of progress, which the institutions exhibit, are attributable to the young and the old being admitted
to the public councils. This has not given a predominance to
the opinions of either. It has simply operated a fusion of the
opinions of the two, and has placed at the command of society,
all the genius, and activity of the one, together with all the
wisdom, and ability of the other.
M. Chabrol, in his "Recherches Statistiques," calculates
that nineteen-twentieths of the people of France are dependent on their labor, or personal exertions of some kind, for
their subsistence; in other words, that not more than onetwentieth are in a condition to live upon their income merely.
Tucker, in his work on the census of the United States, has
made the same calculation for the people of that country.
The. knowledge of this fact, M. Sismondi considers indispensable, in order to make a wise and safe distribution of the political power. If nineteen-twentieths of the population are condemned to employments which do not permit the free and vigorous exercise of their understandings, is it not absaird, asks
iI. Sismondi, to endow all the people equally with the elect;oral
8




114              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOK I.
franchise; in other words, to give nineteen times more power
to the ignorant, than to those who are capable of understanding the interests of the country. But we should commit a
great mistake if we supposed that the calculation of M. Chabrol had the same meaning in all countries. Although in every
country the rumber of thcse devoted to physical labor is nineteen to one, it xvill not follow that the condition of the class is
the same in all. For instance, the muajority of proprietors in the
United States possess from eighty to two hundred acres of land;
in France, from six to ten; in Great Britain, from fifteen to
twenty-five; nevertheless, the American proprietor is as dependent for his maintenance upon the cultivation of his farm, as
the French or English proprietor. But the maintenance of the
former comprehends much more than that of the two last. In
Great Britain, the rural population composes one-third, in the
United States it is three-fourths of the population. These circumstances place a wide distinction between the population of
the United States and that of Great Britain or France. The
proportion of the rural population is as great in France as in
the United States, but their condition is infinitely lower. Although nineteen-twentieths of the American people are depenident upon their labor, yet if more than one-half of this
number are placed in any easy condition, and have revenue
greatly superior to the same class in other countries, their
labor will not be anything like so intense and hrumiliating.
The condition of the majority of French proprietors is little
better than,of the English operatives: neither earn more than
enough to satisfy the lowest animal wants. American proprietors, on the contrary, live in comfort, and a fair opportunity is afforded for the development of their understandings.
For even where the education is of a limited character, the
feeling of independence gives a spring to the intellectual
faculties. The difference between the American and European laborer is as great as between the American and European proprietor. The American laborer earns froom three pecks
to a bushel of wheat daily; the average wages of even the
English laborer during the last five centuries have been a little more than one peck.
-Ml. Sismondi insists [Etudes sur les Seiences Sociales, v. 1,
p. 54] that the most fortunate result which can be expected




CHAP. VI.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                   115
from  an election by universal suffrage, is that the choice will
be a mean between all the differences, so that if there are
nineteen ignorant electors for one well informed, the legislative body will be nineteen-twentieths nearer the ignorance of
the one than the intelligence of the other. This, however, is
contradicted by universal experience. The opinion of Blroughhan
is more correct, when he declares that, " if universal suffrage
were now established in Great Britain, not one pe:-rsant would
be elected to Parliament.".Moral inability produces nearly
the same results as physical inability. Those who are without
knowledge, without ability, or aptitude for public Chffairs, feel
themselves instinctively and irresistibly impelled to lean upon
those cwho have these qualities in some respectable degree.
There never has been a legislative assembly chosen by the
people which did not contain men of high character and superior endowments. In France, after the revolution of 1848,
such men as De Tocqueville, Berryer, Thiers, Barerot, Dupin,
Arago, &c., were immediately elected to the legislative body,.
The same result has invariably taken place ini the United
States. Why this should be the case —why solme men of superior merit are returned together with a greater number of
inferior cap)acities, and why the first will be able to exert a
decisive influeDee in. the assembly, affords matter for curious
inquiry: 1st. There is in all men a natural and instinctive
respect for superior knowledge. It is not the resulte of reflection, and therefore cannot be got rid of any more than our
other instincts. 2d. The sharp edge of envy is taken off by
the knowl+dAge which the people have that the succes:,ful candidates owe their election to them. 3d. Every one in the
affairs of private life calls upon others to do what hle cannot
do, or do so skillfully himself: upon the lawyer, in a legal
controversy; up1on the physician, in sickness.  4th. These
causes are greatly strengthened by a circumstance peculiar to
political mnen. The public display which they make, the topics
they debate, strike powerfully upon the imaginatioi of the
com, mo5n   people. They are not merely instructed; they are
amused, antd their feelings roused, by the animating spectacle
which p)ublic affairs present. But there is' nothing to produce
animation when the public arena is occupied by dull, ignorant
men, any more than there is at the theatre where the actors




116              NATURE AND TENDENCY                 [BooK I.
have none of the inspiration of genius. Through these various
instrumentalities, some men of ruling intellect are sure to be
elected to an assembly which has to do with great affairs; and
such men, for even stronger reasons than have influenced the
electors, will exert a commanding influence upon the other
members. Superior minds, in whatever sphere they move, give
unity to the thoughts and actions of other men. iProfound writers, the pulpit, the bar, the seminaries of learning, all contribute
to this great end. If we survey the condition of a savage or
half-civilized community, we find this principle of unity entirely wanting: every thing which relates to the social, moral
andd political regime, is at loose ends. If we examine the ce)ndition of a civilized country, but in which internal commotions
have for a time broken in upon the regular order of society,
we find the same fact exemplified in a remarkable manner.
If we look into the condition of the same country, when enjoyilg tran'quility, we find a state of things entirely the reverse.
Every thing is in its place; the thoughts and actions of men,are controlled- by a principle of unity, and that prixnciple of
unity is contained in the moral and intellectual machinery
which'is in operation. The institution of government contributes greatly to this end; it binds up the scattered, inco*herent thoughts and interests of-men, and makes them all tend
to some common end. The use of representative government,
as contra-distinguished from pure democracy, is not to reflect
the vague and loose opinions of the millions of men who live
under it, but to sift those opinions, to draw out whab is valuable, and thus to give fixedness, consistency and unity to the
thoughts of men, as well as to the plans of government. This
want is infinitely more pressing in a country of great extent,
than in one of narrow dimensions. But even the small republics of Greece were obliged to invent some plan in order to
get rid of the disorder which would have arisen from an
assemnblage of the people in person; such as vesting the senatorial body with the initiative, confiding the reduciion of the
laws to special committees, or bureaus, and the appoi~ntment
of a certain nDumber of public orators. All these weare  representative bodies, and helped to make compensation f;r the
inherent defects of the system. Without some such ex[pedients, the legislative assembly would have been converted into




CHAP. VI.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  117
a bedlam. A government which is representative throughout,
attains these ends in much higher perfection. It is not necessary, nor even desirable, that a country should employ all its
eminent men in political affairs. There are other and higher
occupations for the ruling minds who belong to it; higher,
because the eminent political men of every country are themselves formed, directly or indirectly, by the great thinkers and
writers in every department of knowledge. America so far
presents the singular spectacle of a country vwhose eminent
men have been formed by the great minds of other countries.
It is fortunate, therefore, that she at least does not convert all
her gifted citizens into public men. Provision will thus be,
made for building up a profound literature at home, and preventing our looking abroad in order to obtain the great rudiments of klnowledge. We shall then cease to be an eleemosynary people, in what relates to intellectual cultivation.
The notion of a property qualification, as necessary to entitle
to a vote, seems to be derived from feudal institution,5. A very
few instances of the same kind are to be found in antiquity.
The feudal law so completely united every species of political
right with dominiion in the soil, that even after a regular
representative assembly grew up, the rights of suffrage, as
well as the capacity to hold office, was made to depend upon
the fact whether the persons were landed proprietors or not.
In Great Britain, a qualification of this kind is still neeessary:
a freehold in county, and a leasehold in borough elections. In
Scotland, until recently, none but tenants in cai)ite, that is,
persons who held immediately of the crown (whether really or
constructively, was immaterial) had a right to vote in county
elections. For the most extraordinary part of the system was,
that it was by a fiction only they were so denominated. It
was not necessary that they should have any interest whatever
in the soil. They possessed the franchise on account of what,
in technical language, is termed superiority.  They were
originally tenants in capite; but it was in the power of any
one to sever his superiority from  his land; selling the last,
and yet retaining the former: the purchaser conisequently
acquiring the right to a vote. This was a strange anomaly at
any time; but that such a law should be found standing in
the midst of the light of the nineteenth century, and in the




118              NATURE AND TENDENCY                 [BOOi I.
most enlightened country of Europe, is difficult to explain by
any sensible mode of reasoning. It shows that the artificial
governments alone are able to reconcile the most heterogenous
and contradictory things-can insist that the public safety
demands that property and power should forever go together;
and then throw away the principle as unmeaning and valueless, and confer power upon those who have no property. The
consequence of this state of things was, the electoral franchise
was much more restricted, and the system of representation
altogether more irregular, than in either England or Ireland.
In France, since the creation of a house of deputies, a different plan has been adopted. The right to a vote depends upon
the payment of a certain amount of taxes, varying at different
periods, fronm forty to sixty dollars for each individual. This
presupposes the possession of property, but then it may be
indifferently, either real or personal. The tax must be a direct
one, but even if there is any real distinction between what are
termed direct and what are termed indirect taxes, the former
are deemed equally applicable to both kinds of property. In
America,, a property qualification was one necessary in all the
state governments; and in the federal government, the right
to a vote for members of the house of representatives was the
same as it was in each state, for the -most numerous branch of
the state legislature. The laws, however, have underg'one a
total alteration in almost all the states.  Universal suffrage is
now the rule, a property qualification ths exception; and the
elections to the federal legislature are obliged to conform
themselves to the changes made in the respective states.
The origin of a custom is never sufficient to determine its
utility, nor to give us its true meaning at a subsequent time.
Such changes take place in the frame of society, in Pmodern
communities, that an institution which was welt enough 1adapted to a very imperfect civilization, imay lose its siguification
and become highly injurious at a more advanced period. It
is true, it sometimes happens that an institution which was
fitted to answer one purpose, may, when that has ceased to
exist,,be found to answer some other end in a still higher
degree. And therefore, it cannot be stated as an universal
proposition, that if the original design has failed, the institution should therefore be abolished. But it is still more neces



CHAP. VI.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 119
sary to guard against the opposite error, and never to take for
granted that the antiquity of an institution is what entitles it
to the respect of mankind. The prejudice is sometimes of advantage, by correcting the precipitancy of inirovaticn. But in
the greater number of instances, it only darkens and conifuses
the understanding, and contributes to retain society in a stationary condition.
A property qualification has been defended in modern times,
on two grounds:  First, That property is the chief thing
which the laws have to deal with, and therefore it is fit that
the privilege should be worn by those who represent the most
important interests of society.  Se2ond. That as a general
rule, the possession of property affords a surer test of a capacity for the judicious exercise of the electoral franchise, than
any other which can be devised.
To disseminate property, is to disseminate power; and on
the other hand, the diffusion of liberty gives rise to the diffusion of both property and power. And as the true plan of
balancing power is to prevent its concentration in the hands
of a few-to distribute it as widely as possible; so the only
mode by which we can contrive to govern the governors, is to
open the way to all classes of men for the acquisition of property; and the most effectual way of doing this is to extend
the electoral franchise as widely as practicable. Neither tUle
abolition of primogeniture, nor any other enactment ot the
civil code, has in the'United States assisted so much in effecting a distribution of property, as have the political institutions. So that even admitting, as a general rule, that it is fit
power and property should go together, it cannot be wise to
adopt a system, the direct effect of which is to prevent the
growth and dissemination of property. Formerly, lanaded
property constituted the principal capital of society; but the
case is now very much altered. Industry, sagacity, and enterprise, though they can neither be seen nor touched, compose,
at the present day, the chief elements of wealth. No man,
however affluent, can now tell with any degree of certainty
how long his estate will continue to be enjoyed by his descendants; such is the rapidity with which the inert habits of those
who are born rich permit property to crumble, and such the
corresponding activity with which those who are born poor




120              NATURE AND TENDENCY                -[BOOK I.
acquire the ability to appropriate that property to themselves.
%W'hy it is, that the communication of political privileges
to a people imparts so much vigor and activity t to their whole
character, is not difficult to account for. It removes a- feeling
of degradation, the invariable effect of wnhich is to benumb
and stupefy the mlind, if it does not produce worse consequences. It is true, one can hardly say, that the peasantry of
BRussia or Austria realize this feeling; since having been habituated, from time immemorial, to a state of complete subjection,
they can hardly form  an idea of the value of the privilege.
But in all the constitutional monarchies of Europe, where the
electoral franchise is already extended to a part of the population, those who are excluded from its exercise are able to
make a comparison of their situation with that of others; and
a sense of their own inferiority is forced upon them.
The great advantage arising from the free communication
of the privilege, consists then, in its giving men new faculties,
and not merely new rights. It enables them for the first time to
realize a sense of degradation, which they were before too much
debased to feel. It places the great body of the population in
the only condition in which it is possible to place them; where
their understandings will be opened, there views enlarged, and
their feeling elevated. Nothing can be conceived more dreary
and monotonous, than the time which is passed in the drudgery
of supplying our animal wants, if their' is nothing besides to
give variety and interest to life. The beings who are condemned to this species of subterranean existence, are never
able to acquire the proper character of men.
Medical writers have observed that nothing contributes so
much to produce mental aberation as the habit acquired by
some individuals of brooding over one train of ideas. The
mind which is exercised in this way, is deprived of its healthful action; the balance between its different faculties is lost,
its strength gradually undermined.  It is only in extreme
cases that this takes place. But there is a condition of mind
very similar to this, which may be terimed fatuity —an intellectual torpor, which, in some countries, takes possession of
whole classes; produced by the addiction to an exceedingly
narrow round of pursuits, and which prevents the natural




CHAP. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                121
play of the mental powers and affections. Long habit famil.
iarizes the observer to this melancholy spectacle; but it is not
the less an example of mental abberration, though in a much
less degree than the state before described. Whoever has
closely watched the countenances and behavior of the peasantry
of most European countries, when they arrive in the United
States, must have been struck with this characteristic mark.
There is an obtuseness of intellect, a withered and sunken
aspect, a bent and difficult gait, which contrast strongly with
the alert step and animated countenances of American agriculturists.
There are two modes of rectifying this unfortunate condition of society-education, and the influence of free institu
tions. Education alone is not sufficient. The mind may take
in the mere rudiments of knowledge, and yet its faculties
never be developed. The institutions under which we live,
the social organization which encompasses us, are what give
vitality and meaning to much the greater part of the knowledge which the bulk of mankind ever acquire. Liberty both
imparts elasticity to the mind, and supplies the materials on
which it is chiefly exercised; for the general communication
of an important political privilege breaks down the wall of
Dartition between the different classes. -Men of low degree
are brought into association with those who possess superior
advantages. The former are taught to have more self-respect,
more confidence in themselves; and the wide range of general
information which is now placed within their reach, inspires
the greatest inquisitiveness imaginable in regard to the conduct of public affairs, in which they have now become actors
themselves. All this, so far from withdrawing attention from
their private pursuits, adds fresh vigor to their exertions, simply because it supplies such a fund of variety to life. And
thus this unexpected consequence follows, that in a country
where no property qualification is attached to the enjoyment
of political privileges, the number of people who possess
property is the greatest. And wherever the qualification is
highest, the less is the number of those who have property;a remarkable instance of the false train of reasoning to which
the mind is frequently conducted, by an obstinate adherence
to what is called the ancient and established order of society.




1O2              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BooK.
There is an old maxim that the political institutions can
never be made to rise higher than the manners. And a more
pernicious one has never been incorporated into the boolk of
politics. T'here is no difference in this respect between political and any other institutions. And if the maximi had ever
been carried to anything like its full extent, society would
never have made a single step in improvement. For what are
religion, education, and the body of conventional rules which
preside over a community, but so many institutions, which,
finding men ignorant and weak, lift them up, and make themn
better and wiser. The true maxim is that the political institutions do exercise a most important influence upon the Imanners, and that every improvement of the former contributes to
raise society to a higher level. And I am persuaded if some
of the European governments I could name were resolved,
manfully, but circumspectly, to rid themselves of the prejudice, that what has been must continue to be, and if they
would impart a large share of liberty to the people, that it
would redound to the strength and prosperity of both government and people.
There are several considerations, in addition to those already
suggested, which go very far to show that a law which attaches
a property qualification to the right of suffrage is unwise and
without utility.
First. Public opinion is becoming more and more the great
moving force of all governments. It is then of the utmost
importance to inquire what part of the population it is which
contributes to the formation of this public opinion. Is it certain that it is only the class of proprietors? Very far from it:
There are great multitudes of people in Great Britain and
France who are totally disfranchised, and whose opinions and
interests are of so much consequence as to render their influence, even when deprived of suffrage, of infinite importance,
whether for good or for evil. And this constitutes the test
of the expediency of a property qualification. If whole classes
who are disqualified have sufficient weight in society to bear
a part in the formation of public opinion, it decides the question in favor of a liberal rule of suffrage. If those who have
faculties to think, and an abundant curiosity with regard to
all public affairs, are excluded from  the privilege, they will




CHAP. Vi.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  123
succeed in spite of every effort the legislator may make in
giving a direction to public opinion.
I venture to say, that all the great measures of reform which
have been set on foot during the last twenty years in Great
Britain, have been brought about in great part, through the
influence of that numerous body of active and intelligent citi.
zeus, who are shut out from a direct participation in political
power. But critical emergencies occur in all governments;
when the passions of different orders of men are violently infltanem; and when what was before an invisible influence, will
come to wear a more palpable form. The whole class of disfranchised, composed in part of sagacious and otherwise well
disposed people, will then resemble a foreign force, rather than
a body of orderly citizens, anil may imagine, that in self-defense it is necessary to batter down existing institutions.
The British, and still more tile French government, is
placed in this position. Two hundred thousand electors in the
last, where the adult male population is five or six millions,
is too gtreat a. disproportion; and it is not surprising that the
fear of a disputed succession, or some other speck discerned
upon the political horizon, should produce so much apprehension among those who take the lead in public afafirs. In
Great Britain, the reform bill extended the privilege considerably; but one thirty-fifth part of the population is much
too simall a proportion in a country where the standard of
popular intelligence has been so much elevated during the
last half century. I am not acquainted with all the views of
the English chartists; but so formidable a body of men could
hardly have been banded together in that great community,
unless the electoral franchise was needlessly withheld from a
very substantial part of the citizens, and unless those who
were so earnest in endeavoring to effect a reform, had been
anifmatted by the characteristic good sense of the, A-nglo-Norman rc:ce. There is no necessity for acquiescing in the extreme views of Mi[r. Bentham, or iajor Cartwright: a wide
field for profitable legislation is opened, whether we adopt or
dis-,ard them. The chartists have assuredly paved the way
for further concessions at some future day. The present law of
p-trliamentary reform, was talked about by the party in power,




124              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [ BooK I.
and the party in opposition, by Pitt and by Fox, as far back
as 1786, and was achieved nearly half a century after.
Second. A government which confines the electoral franchise within very narrow limits, failto avail itself of the strength
and faculties of the whole of its people. It is like the strong
man cutting off his right arm with his left. In the United
States, the enjoyment of the privilege by the great body of
the people gives rise to order and tranquility, instead of
tumult and insurrection. For an -unmistakable test is thus
afforded, that; all public measures follow the course which the
majority have decreed. And there is nothing which is so
much calculated to subdue the will, and to produce an irresistible obedience to the laws, as the knowledge that the3y are
imposed by an authority which has the only legitimate title to
command. This alone is an immense advantage to society:
so that even admitting that public affairs are not, in every
particular instance, conducted with as much judgment and
discretion, as we could desire; yet, if on the average, they are
characterized by more prudence, and good sense, a greater
deference to the public weal than is discoverable in other governments, we may even afford-to prize the flaw in the system,
for the sake of its general utility. Moutesquieu said, if the
press were established in Constantinople, it would diffuse
light even in that region. And it has actually done so; and
I observe that every enlargement of the electoral franchise in
Great Britain has had no other effect than to produce a
greater degree of public tranquility. Invariably the introduction of free institutions, if it does not find a people already
prepared for self-government, will in no long time render
them. so.
The general communication of the electoral privilege banishes the distinction of patricians and plebeians-a distinction which is quick in making its appearance, whenever it has
any root in the laws. All the parts of society are thus combined into one firm and compact whole, and the strength and
prosperity of the entire nation are proportionally augmentedOn the other hand, where the right is very much restricted,
two forces in the state are placed in opposition to each other:
the legal and natural majority; the one conscious of the right,
the other of power. The country is then sure to be torn by




CHAP. vI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 125
intestine divisions-divisions not created by a difference of
opinion as to the ordinary measures of administration, which
may follow one direction or another, without much. affecting
the public welfare; but divisions which are of fundamental
import, as pertaining to the rights of the people, and the prerogatives of the government. It is not surprising, therefore,
that even the extreme into which the people of the United
States have run, of introducing universal suffrage, or nearly
so, so far from  destroying the public happiness, as was predicted, has been chiefly instrumental in promoting it. The
natural and the legal majority being rendered identical, the
surface of society is frequently ruffled, but the existence of
the institution, is no longer jeopardized.
Third. It is a striking characteristic of humtan nature, that
whatever is rendered common and familiar, loses on that very
account its power over the imagination. Our feelings may be
ever so much interested in the pursuit of an object, yet no
sooner is it fairly attained than the charm of novelty begins
to subside. The mind which was before tossed by contrary
hopes and fears, recovers its composure, and a state approaching even to indifference sometimes succeeds to one of excitement. This is as true in the world of politics as in any other
human concern. The same hopes and affections are set in
motion in both, and they are liable therefore to be raised and
depressed by the same causes. A privilege which, before it
was granted was viewed as a mark of distinction, is deprived
of a good deal of its attraction, when it is shared by millions.
The European governments discover the greatest alarm,
and the moist unreasonable timidity, whenever the subject of
popular rights is touched. But we are not authorized to believe that there is so much danger to the political institutions
from that quarter, when there is the fact staring us in the face,
and which no one can gainsay, that those governments which
have extended the sphere of popular rights the farthest, are
the best administered, and are at the same time favored with
the greatest degree of pablic tranquility. I would say to all
those governments, if you are afraid of the temper and disposition of a people which is fast growing into manhood —if you
feel alarmed at the intelligence and consequent weight which
the people are everywhere acquiring, make haste to avert the




126              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
mischiefs which are brooding over society, by imparting to
them as large an amount of freedom as is practicable. Mtake
what is now a privilege and distinction, the common  property
of a great number; it will then become cheap, common, and
familiar. A state of popular excitement will not be perpetually
kept up, and society will in no long time accommodate itself to
the change. There is no difference, by nature, between Americans and the people of other countries; for the former were
themselves Europeans originally.  Their institutions have
made them what they now are.
The electoral franchise has effected this important revolution in human affairs. Public mPeasures are no longer decided
upon the field of battle; hostile armies are now converted
into political parties; and military captains into civil leaders.
Changes in the public administration, which years of civil war
were unable to accomplish, are now brought about, silently,
and imperceptibly, by the agency of the ballot box. If few
are aware of the value of the mighty change which has taken
place, or even of its existence, it is in consequence of causes
to which I have already referred. Men cease to be moved by
what has become the settled order of society.
But there is another benefit which the general possession
of the privilege will confer.  A people who enjoy a long
period of uninterrupted prosperity, are apt to become slothful
and effeminate. The exercise of political privileges, by opening an arena for the operation of parties on the largest possible scale, keeps the minds of men in constant activity, and
wards off the approach of that listlessness and decay, which
have hitherto been the bane of society, when it has attained
a very high civilization.
There is this advantage from founding government upon
the will of the majority; that if alterations are afterwards
found expedient, they will all originate with the same power.
It is possible, that at some distant period, the public weal in
the United States may require some modification of the right of
suffrage. The true maxim in a republic is, that every riglht
should be placed in subordination to the general welfare. If
then the right is ever restricted, the.change will be attended
by this important advantage. It will be brought about with




CHAP. VI]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                127
the consent of a majority of the people.  This differs the
institution fundamentally from what it is anywhere else.
It is not the mere abstract limitation of the right which is
to be complained of. For none but males are now admitted;
and as to them the age of twenty-one is arbitrarily fixed upon
as the commencement of the right. It is the restriction of
the privilege by a section of the community (as in the European governments,) which constitutes the chief ground of objection. It is remarkable that the Americans have constantly
adhered to the principle, that some other qualification than
mere citizenship, or residence, is necessary in municipal elections. A property qualification of some kind, is uniformly
imposed in this instance. This is not only the case in the
large cities; it is the general rule in all the smaller towns
which are scattered over the country. If, therefore, it shall
ever be deemed wise to impose a limitation upon the right of
voting at the general elections, the transition will not be a
violent one. It will simply be the application of a principle
in one form, to which, in another, the public is already habituated.  Doubtless the qualification exacted at all charter
elections interferes as much with the abstract principle of
equal rights, as would a similar restriction imposed upon the
general voter. Yet there is, at present, a very general conviction of the propriety of the rule in the former case.
As to the mode of collecting the suffrages of the people,
whether it should be "viva voce," or by ballot, I do not believe that the question is of so much importance as is gelnerally supposed. In. the early history of most communities, the
former was probably -the practice. But this was owing to the
inability to write, rather than to the simplicity of the manners. It is rarely a secret how any one votes, when the election is by ballot. Free institutions throw open the windows
of society so wide as to unveil all political transactions. In
the United States, the vote of every elector in a county has
been sometimes calculated with absolute precision before
hand. Cicero laments the disuse of the "viva voce " vote in
his time. But in a period of deep gloom and adversity, such
as existed when he wrote, the mind which is laboring under
its depressing influence will lay hold of any circumstance, to
give color to its apprehensions. The ballot does not render




128             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [nooIK r.
the vote of any one a secret; while at the same time, it has
this eminent advantage, that an election becomes less noisy
and tumultuous in consequence. It is made to resemble the
quiet and orderly transaction of private business.
When the electors are very numerous, it is fortunately impracticable to organize them on the plan adopted in France.
There the electors form themselves into what are denominated
colleges, into which no one not privileged to vote is admitted.
The elections are thus freed from violence, but they are
shrouded in darkness, and are therefore subjected to the most
sinister influence. Until 1830, the presidents of these colleges
were nominated by the king-a circumstance which was understood to give them a decided advantages if they were
themselves candidates; so sadly does a monarchical government disfigure free institutions, whenever it attempts to imitate them.
The intermediate vote has been a favorite with some very
able writers. Mr. iHume proposes it in his plan of a republic.
The experiment has been made in France, on a more extended
scale than was ever attempted in any other country. At one
time, two intermediate bodies were interposed between the
primary electors and the candidates, so that three successive
elections, by as many different bodies, each diminishing in
number, were necessary tcP the election of the legislative body.
The whole plan, however, was abandoned in 1817. In the
United States, a scheme in some respects similar, has been
adopted in the election of the president and senators; and in
most of the state governments, in the election of judges, and
a few of the administrative officers. But in France, not only
were members of the legislature elected by the intermediate
vote, butt what was infinitely worse, the electoral colleges who
chose them were constituted for life. The small number of
persons composing them, together with the permanent tenure
of their office, rendered these colleges mere aristocratic bodies.
The elietion laws of France were at one time disfigured by
another deformity. All those who paid a certain amount of
taxes,-seven hundred francs I think,-were entitled to vote
twice. Itn Great Britain the double, and even the triple vote
is allowed(; but it stands on a slightly different footing. In
France, the same elector might vote twice for a member of the




CHAP. VI.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                129
chamber of deputies. In Great Britian, the same elector cannot vote twice in the same county; but he may vote in different counties, if he has land of sufficient value in each. He
may vote twice, and even oftener, for different members of
the house of commons. All such schemes are entirely inconsistent with the genuine spirit of free institutions: and only
serve to stave off, or to hasten the day, which sooner or later
will come, when a more just system will be established. Indeed, in France the plan has already been established. In
Great Britain it stands, notwithstanding the reform  act of
1832.
It is a most valuable provision in the American laws, that
the elections are held in townships, or parishes. This contributes mightily to break the force of party spirit. The plan
has been recently imitated in Great Britain. Formerly, the
elections were held at but one place in each county. It is
now held at several places. A similar arrangement has also
been adopted in France. Instead of the elections being held
by departments, they are held in the smaller subdivision of
"' arrondissements.' The British and French plans are still
imperfect. The American is thorough, and goes directly to
its object. In Europe, the plan is to diminish the number of
electors, instead of multiplying the places of election.
There is another difference between the British, and French,
and the American elections. In Great Britian the polls were
kept open for an indefinite period. In the celebrated Westminster election, when Mr. Fox lost his seat, they were open
for six weeks; and were then closed only because the session
of parliament commenced. The period is now restricted to
one day in cities and boroughs, and to two in counties. In
France, an election continues six days. In America, the polls
are generally closed in one day, and nothing is more remarkable than the universal calm  which immediately succeeds.
The elections in America may be said to exhibit the extraordinary spectacle of prodigious excitement, in the midst of the
profoundest tranquility.
9




130             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOO1 I.
CHAPTER  VII.
THE ELECTION OF TIlE PUBLIC OFFICERS.
THERE is one property peculiar to representative governments, which I do not remember to have seen noticed. It
doubles the responsibility of the public agents. The persons
who are elected to office feel a general responsibility in common
with their constituents; because the interests of both are substantially the same, and they feel an additional responsibilty,
in consequence of the station which they are selected to fill.
An association of individuals, acting in common for their mun
tual advantage, are compelled to listen to some other motives
than self-interest; otherwise it would not be true that they
acted in common. But the moment it is decided that all public measures shall be managed by deputies, instead of by the
people in person, a new and very important element is introduced into the government. The incentives to good conduct
on the part of the representative are increased. The very selfinterest, which before stood in the way of each one acting
effectually for the public good, is made to operate advantageously upon the officer. He is no longer confounded with the
crowd. He stands out to public view as one selected to discharge important duties. His constituents expect something
more fron him, than they do from themselves; and his conduct is obliged to be more prudent and circumspect than it
would otherwise be.
The corrupting influence of office has often been taken notice
of. But it may be made to have a directly opposite effect. I
have in repeated instances known individuals to make use of
untiring efforts to obtain soame public trust, the duties of
which consisted in the most laborious drudgery-in the performance of a mere round of clerical duties; and I have observed them closely, after their object was attained. To see
the singleness of purpose, and the indefatigable industry,
which they applied to their new occupation, one would sup



CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               131
pose that they had made discovery of some inexhaustible
source of enjoyment, which was unknown to any one else.
Before they were chosen, their conduct seemed to be without
any definite aim. It was a bundle of expedients; not a system of action. They were not only not distinguished for intelligence, industry, or sobriety of demeanor; but seemed to
be absolutely deficient in all. As soon as the public confidence was held out.to them, all these qualities were suddenly
waked up, and they were transformed into active and valuable
citizens. In most countries, the greater part of these individuals would have been cut off from all opportunity of obtaining
office. They would have occupied the place of passive citizens
merely; and not even have been admitted to the exercise of the
electoral franchise. Thus, the extreme liberty which representative'government imparts to the population, carries along with
it its own correction. Of all governments it is the one which
creates, if I may use the expression, the greatest amount of
business transactions; and it is, therefore, the one which demands the greatest amount of business talent and industry.
It is very true that the separate -interest which. a public
officer feels in the emolument and influence which orfice bestows, may be so much enhanced, as entirely to outweigh the
interest which he has in the public welfare. The way to cure
this defect is to distribute power as widely as possible; to
assign moderate salaries to every place, and to limit the duration of office. The distribution of power, by calling into
requisition the abilities of a large proportion of the population, prevents any one from acquiring undue influence: nud
by joining effective labor to almost every public employment,
identifies the interest of the public with those of the officer.
The ancients never made a full discovery of the principle of
representation; and accordingly, their application of it was
very feeble. The Roman commonwealth had recourse to another principle in the constitution of its legislative assemblies.
Men were arranged into distinct orders; and the votes were
taken by classes, instead of "per capita."
Thus where a modern republic is chiefly intent on melting
down the inequalities of different parts of the society, by establishing the principle of representation, an ancient republic,
endeavored to perpetuate them  by giving them  full, play.




132              NATURE AND TENDENCY                 [BOOK I.
There is hardly an instance in antiquity, of a legislative body
which was elected. The senate of Athens may be an exception, though that is a question which is involved in great obscurity. In the Roman commonwealth, the comitia of the
centuries, and of the tribes, constituted, at successive periods,
the real legislature. The senate was regarded in the light of
an executive magistracy, and the members who composed it,
although they were elected by the people, during the latter
half of the republic, were not electedl to the senate. They
had previously been chosen to some other office, and by virtue
of this choice became senators for life.
The elective principle however, was thoroughly practiced
upon in framing the executive department. In the modern
European states, the rule is reversed. The legislature, or one
chamber, is elected, while the executive is an hereditary magistrate, and the judicial and all the subordinate administrative
officers are appointed by him. The United States is the only
country where the principle of representation has been intro-,duced into every department of the government.
To procure an upright and enlightend appointing power is
the chief desideratum in the formation of a commonwealth.
It is the final aim of all government; and all other devices are
but means to the attainment of it. In Great Britaiin, this
power is nominally a prerogative of the crown; in prac(tice, it
is exercised by the minister, or some other public officer.;Thus all the puisne judges are appointed by the chancell(lr;.,and it has been observed by an eminent English writer, that,the fitness of the persons thus selected, is "not only urnquestioned, but unquestionable."  It was a maxim of the Fiiench
~economists, that a legal despotism, if it were practicable,
would be the best. form of government. That is, the o Icontrolled authlority of one man, of the greatest wisdom and4 virtue, would conduce better than all other political contrivaInces,
to the attainment of public felicity. But if we were ablle to
find one such man in society, we should for the same r'eason,
be able to find a great many others. The diversities of Ihlulan
character, great as they are, cannot, in the nature of tfhings,
be pushedl to such an extreme as to present 1us with one individual, rising supremely in virtue and intelligence, a!botve all,others.  We might therefore, with much more reason, ldesire




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               133
that a great number of the citizens possessed these endowments; for although the wish would be as unavailing in the
one case as in the other, the object of both is equally possible,
while the last would indicate a more exact and comprehensive
notion of the ends of civil government.
One reason why the selections by the English Chancellor
are so good, is because that officer is not lifted so high as to
be insensible to the influence of public opinion, and yet is so
independent as to be able to resist the aberrations to which
public opinion is occasionally liable. In a republic it is impossible to make such a disposition of the appointing power.
The arrangement is an artificial and accidental one, and cannot be introduced in such a government without subverting
its foundation. It is not merely because the character of the
chancellor depends upon that of the Prince, and that of the
Prince upon chance; nor that the existence of such an officer
would be a solecism in a republic: it would frustrate one of
the great ends in the formation of a commonwealth, which is
to identify the administration of government with the interests of the people, and so to discipline them by an actual experience of this connection, that the appointing power may be
freed, not for a season, but forever, from the caprice of an individual. It is not uncommon in a monarchy to find the civil
rights of the citizens well guarded, although the political
abuses are both flagrant and numerous. An assiduous care
for some of our interests frequently withdraw the mind from
hardships and grievances of greater magnitude.
How to constitute the appointing power is then a question
of the deepest interest in representative government. There
are two ends which we desire to attain: one, to make govern-'ment an institution for the common weal; the other, to render
public opinion as nearly conformable as possible with the public reason; that is, to reflect what we may suppose to be the
most enlightened views with regard to the common interests.
These two ends are not easily reconciled; for government cannot be made an institution for the common benefit, unless the
people participate in it. Their exclusion, ard the confinement
of the political power to a'comparatively small number, will
be followed, in the first instance, by a careless regard to their
interests, and will lead by successive steps to a fixed design to




134              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BooK I.
build up an authority so independent as to be inaccessible to
attack, or observation. On the other hand, if public opinion,
which sets goveriment in motion, is not a reasonable and well
informed one, the interests of the community may be sacrificed, whatever may be the share which the people may have
in the direction of public affairs. These are the difficulties of
the problem. YWe want government to be instituted and administered, by the majority; and yet we want public opinion,
which reflects the sentiments of that majority, to be both vigilant and enlightened. If we say'that the people are unfit to
exercise the appointing power directly, and confide it to the
executive, or the executive and senate, or the legislative body,
the dangerstwill be only apparently lessened; for all these
magistrates are themselves elected by the people, and will partake more or less of the same character.
Is there then any impossibility in the nature of things; alny
impossibility under all circumstances and conditions of society,
in causing public opinion and the public reason, to be in conformity with each other. 1st. There is a very perceptible tendency towards something of this sort, even in communities
which are not the best regulated. This arises from a principle
of human nature, and is not at all dependent upon the mechanism of government. The most uncultivated men form to
themselves a standard of excellence which they cling to until
that period of life when the passions are silenced, and their,conduct and actions become less dangerous to society. It is
for this reason, that society everywhere exhibits a principle of
progress, and never of retrogradation. 2d. This feeling is so.spontaneous, and so little under the command of the will, that,it disposes the bulk of the population to look up to, and to
{lefer to the opinions of the superior classes. The ideal which
is floating iu the minds of the uncultivated, although not realized in themselves, is able to find a visible representative in
some other part of society. The operation of these principles,
as they lie at the foundation of all human improvement, lie
also at the foundation of all the institutions of government.
Let any one try, if he can, to worship ignorance and depravity:
he will find it impossible, even if he is himself ignorant and
depraved. Let any one in the most obscure walks of life inquire what has induced him, by daily toil and labor, to better




CHAP..VII]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                135
his physical condition: he will find that there has been a constant, though vague desire, to get beyond the narrow circle in
which his physical wants are enclosed; hence the strong desire, the homely pride of the uncultivated, to lift their offspring, by education, above their own level. 3d. Without
pretending to assert that there is no condition of society in
which the two, difficulties I have mentioned cannot be reconciled, we may at least affirm, that if there is a country iu which
knowledge and property are widely dispersed, in which consequently private and public interests are nearly identified, and
the selfish affections do not swallow up the man, the problem
can hardly be considered as insoluble. For, conditions of society which differ from each other, cannot afford the same results; if they did, they would not be different, but similar
states of society. Spain and Portugal, Naples and uRasia,
exhibit a social organization entirely variant from that of the
United States or Great Britain. It is only by ruminating on
the things in which they agree, and leaving ont those in which
they differ, that the judgment is confused. The institutions of
the two last countries are obliged to be different, in character,
from those of the first, by a principle no stronger than that
which links the effect to its cause.
In what way is public opinion formed? The groundwork is
to be found in the principle I have already noticed: the standard of action which every one, high and low, forms to himself,
and which always rises higher than his own conduct. Hence
it is not true, that none but the enlightened contribute to the
for mation of public opinion. The uneducated have a share in
it, for all the fundamental notions of morality are as strongly impressed upon them as upon the superior classes; and the hereditary monarch is visibly influenced, though never directly
governed, by the opinions which pervade his peasantry. But
public opinion, when it comes to be applied to the affairs of
an extensive, wealthy and densely peopled community, becomes a very complicated organ; for although it reposes upon
a few simple principles, these become greatly diversified in a
highly civilized state. In such a state, public opinion may be
defined to be the judgment which is formed coucerning the
rights, duties, and interests of the population in relation to
the government, of the government of the population, and of




136             NAT'URE AND TENDENCY              [B.OOe I.
the citizens to one another. If there is great diversity in the
condition of the various classes, those rights, duties and interests will be seen under very different aspects, and there
cannot, properly speaking, be any such thing as a public opinion. The term public reason will be employed to denote that
there is another tribunal of still higher authority, although it
may reflect the sentiments of a comparatively small part of
the population. If, on the other hand, knowledge and property are pretty equally distributed, public opinion will not
diverge materially from what is denominated the public reason. The diffusion of property alone may have had this effect.
For what is a consequence of a diffusion of property? It is
to produce habits of business, industry, judgment and reflection in the management of property; and the very means by
which private comfort is attained, contribute to discipline the
understandings of the great majority of the population.
Notwithstanding these views, the subject still seems to be
full of difficulty. The beings we meet on the highway, the
operatives, common laborers, and menial servants, seem to be
incapacitated by nature, or by circumstances as strong as
nature, from forming the most general notions of the end of
government, even so far as their own interests are concerned.
But these beings have, since the foundation of the American
commonwealth, actually taken part in the election of the executive, and of both branches of the legislatures. The American
legislatures are all elected by universal suffrage, or by a rule
nearly equivalent to it. On entering these assemblies, an unpracticed eye will be startled with the boorishness and apparent ignorance of many of the members; a calm observer will
see nothing inconsistent with a skillful and orderly management of the public business, and a well informed one will
recollect that the composition of these bodies is infinitely
better than was that of the provincial estates, or even of the
states general of France, and better than that of the English
Parliament before the commencement of the eighteenth century. That there are great differences in the capacities of the
members who compose the American legislatures, is certain.
How then, is business conducted with regularity? How are
laws passed to meet the complicated exigencies of such wealthy
and populous communities? That they are so framed, is mat



CHAP. vII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               137
ter of notoriety. For if we examine the codes of those states,
whether criminal, civil, or political, we will find that they make
a more wise, exact and judicious provision for the wants of all
classes, than is to be found anywhere else. If these codes
were imitations of those of older nations, the difficulty would
not be removed; for great skill would be requisite in making
the proper selection. But when it is considered that there are
great departures from any existing code, and that these are
every year becoming wider, that experience is the foundation
on which these laws are built, the difficulty is increased. He
who can collect experience into a body, and decipher its true
meaning, is the wisest man. If we admit then, that a considerable proportion of those who compose these legislatures, are
incompetent to frame the laws, would it be an extraordinary
circumstance that the smaller number who are able, should
execute the task. Does any one at all acquainted with human
nature expect to find a legislative body, however constituted,
materially varying from this description. It is the character
of both the English Chambers, the Lords, and Commons; that
is, it is the character of those very bodies, which might seem
worthy of imitation, if the elective principle which prevails in
a republic was abandoned, not one-fourth of the English Peers,
or Commons, is able to grapple with the perplexing questions
of foreign or internal policy which are submitted to them.
It appears, then, that there is a principle of human nature,
by which, when a number of persons are assembled to transact
any important business, the task will be voluntarily yielded
to those who have most skill and ability; although it will by
no means follow, that the presence of those who are deficient
in these qualities can be dispensed with.
The application of these views to the electors-the class who
choose the public officers, is obvious. The same result will
take place as in a legislative body. Those who are incapable
of forming a clear estimate of the part they are called upon to
perform, will be counselled and controlled by those of more
intelligence, although it must not be inferred that the privilege
should be confined to the last. Parents advise and guide their
children, but the conduct of the parent, as well as of the child,
is better on that very account. It is true, the electors are not
collected into one body, like a legislative assembly, and can



138             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
not act so directly upon one another. But they are parcelled
into families, neighborhoods, and townships, and this presents
the same, or even a more advantageous mode of communication. Admitting, then, that among the common people the
proportion of those who are capable of voting understandingly
is only one to ten, that one will exert a marked influence.
And how is it with the superior ranks: the proportion is not
greater; for if an humble condition of life rears rough and
ignorant men, wealth rears feeble and effeminate ones. Thus
the majority in each class is powerfully acted upon by a small
number. That the superior knowledge of the few will sometimes be turned to sinister purposes is certain; but this is a
vice common to both classes, and does not interfere with the
views I have taken.
If the structure of society is such as to permit the establishinent of representative government, no reason absolutely satisfactory can be assigned, why some public officers should be
elected by direct suffrage, while others are chosen by a close
body. If the principle of responsibility is the hinge on which
republican government turns, it does not appear clear why a
thorough application should be made of it in some instances,
and an imperfect one in others. If the judges should be
elected by a pre-existing body, it would not seem improper
that the executive and legislative should be elected in the
same way.
It is curious to trace the changes which have taken place in
the appointing power in the United States. At first it was
conferred upon the governor alone, as it is at the present day
in Delaware. The next step was to vest it in the governor
and council; and a third was to entrust it to the governor
and senate. The taking the power from the governor was the
commencement of a very important revolution. It broke the
connection between him and the various civil officers of the
state. It discarded the idea that the appointing power was
an attribute of the executive magistrate. The transition was
gradual: a council was created, who divided the power with
the executive. As the council was created for this express
purpose, it may be said to have produced a new organization
of the executive authority, and not merely a new disposition
of the appointing power. The effect was to create a plural




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               139
executive. In process of time, the power underwent a further
change: it was distributed among a greater number; and this
was important, as it gradually paved the way for more decisive
changes, which the structure of society rendered necessary.
The next step accordingly was to confer the power upon the
governor and senate. This was a more decisive change; for
it divided the power between the governor and one branch of
the legislature. It repudiated the maxim, that the power was
an attribute of the executive, whether the executive is a singular or a plural body. The reason of the change is to be
found in the fact, that in America, after the revolution, written
constitutions were adopted. Writing teaches men to analyze
their ideas, and causes their speculative opinions to correspond
more exactly with the results of experience. By no device,
could the authority of the governor of a state whose institutions were democratic, be made to resemble that of an hereditary magistrate. The legislature became at once the most
important and imposing of the three departments. The power
of appointmnent was not, in the first instance, devolved upon
the whole body, but only upon one branch. The successive
steps were not a departure from this design, but in furtherance
of it, and prepared the way for its final accomplishment. But
who can teach us, how to create a governor and senate, which
shall be a thoroughly upright, and. impartial appointing power.
Whether composed of illiterate, or educated men, it would be
subject to the vice of intrigue. The only approach to such an
institution, would be a body so permanent, and composed of
members so affue6nt, as to render them inaccessible to the
solicitations of unworthy candidates. But it would be only
an approach, for no sooner was the system set in motion, than
the body would degenerate into an aristocratic cabal; an interest separate from that of the community would grow up,
and offices would be disposed of by a system of favoritism.
Representatives will act more circumspect than their constituents, only when the trust confided to them does not
present a powerful conflict between private and public interest.
Do what we will, we cannot raise men so high by wealth, or
station, as to render them wise and virtuous; but we may
easily render them the reverse.
The third step which was taken, was to devolve the power




140             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [ BOOi I'
upon the entire legislature. This completed the design, which
we may suppose to have been originally contemplated, which
was to despoil the executive, not in part, but in whole of the
attribute. The various civil magistrates then ceased to be his
agents, and henceforward, held by a tenure as independent
as his own.  But the system, although relieved of one inconsistency, fell into another equally glaring. If the appointing
power is not an appropriate part of the executive authority, it
is as little so of the legislative. By wresting the power from
the governor, and lodging it successively with bodies more
and more numerous, the selections were apparently at least of
a more popular character, and an approach was made to that
plan, to which everything was irresistibly tending, to wit: a
direct appointment by the people.
The chief objection to all the plans which preceded, is that
they deprive us of the most effectual means of training the
popular mind to self-government. Experience, personal experience of the importance of correct appointments, of the connection between them and the public weal, is indispensable to
fulfil not in theory merely, but in practice, the design of representative government. WYe desire to have a disinterested,
and upright impartial appointing power. To procure that, is
to procure everything. And we immediately set about devising a scheme for excluding the bulk of the population; in
other words, we exclude those for whom government is made.
In some conditions of society this may be necessary; in others,
the gradual transition from an appointment by a close body
to a larger number, may facilitate the final transference of the
power to the people themselves. But it is supposed, that it is
impossible to get beyond one or two stages in this transition.
The impossibility arises from perseverance in the plan of close
appointment. By adhering to it inflexibly, we decree that it
cannot be otherwise; we deprive ourselves of the only means
of getting out of it. All knowledge is gained by experience:
even that of a strictly speculative character, is confusedly apprehended, unless we apply our own faculties to the subjects
we undertake to deal with. In the affairs of government, the
proposition is true without any limitations If the citizens
have not a direct voice in the appointment of the public agents,
they form a very inadequate notion of the purpose which those




CHAP. VII.]     OF FREE INST1TUTIONS.                141
agents are intended to answer. They hear that certain functionaries are necessary, in order to administer to public affairs;
and they believe it, only because they are told so. They conceive government to be a species of self-moving machine; and
although they are told that it is established to preside over
their interests, they apprehend this only in a vague and general
way. Appointments are made, but as they are not made by
themselves, they conceive that they have only an accidental
connection with their interests, and that they have no control
over that connection. Thus admitting that popular appointments are practicable, they cannot be made so, unless the
power is brought into exercise. The danger of acting precipitately is not so great as is imagined. In a state habituated
to free institutions, it is very slight. It might be otherwise
in one which did not possess this advantage. In the former,
experience would afford the rule; in the last, the rule would
be the subject of conjecture. An enlightened ruler of one of
the German principalities, visited the United States about
1895, and was so struck with the reasonableness and good
sense of confiding to the people the choice of those who make
the laws, that he introduced an elective assembly into his dominions. His people protested, that they were incompetent
to the task. He persevered, however, well understanding no
doubt, that the difficulties and exigencies of human life, are
the true school of human conduct. In the United States,
where a great fund of experience has been acquired, I would,
if necessary, force the appointment of the judges upon the
people. I may have misgivings, but they are no greater than
I have for the result of any human contrivance, which has not
been tested by actual experiment.
It appears that in the United States, the plan of electing
the judges by a close body was retained long after it had been
abandoned in the election of the exective and administrative
officers. There must be a reason for this. Jurists are accustomed to distinguish between the question of fact, and the
quetion of right. An understanding of the first may shed
light upon the last. In the American provinces, there was no
order of nobilitv with which to compose a senate; there were
no materials for creating an hereditary executive. The country, therefore, very naturally slid, after no long time, into a




142.            NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOKI I.
popular election of both. But the judges had always held for
life; and this circumstance withdrew them from the operation
of the rule. The tenure for life had never been combined with
a popular choice. The notion of responsibility is so closely
connected with that of popular election, that the moment the
last is introduced, it is united with a tenure for a term of
years. The irregularity in the system continued in consesence of the extreme diffculty of overcoming the prejudice
that the tenure of the judges must be for life. The governors
had been generally appointed by the king; but there was now
no king, and the senate had never been an hereditary body.
Both chambers of the legislature therefore, were elected by
the people. The governor was, with some exceptions, elected
in the same manner; not universally, because a vague Lotion
still lingered in some of the states, that a distinction must be
made between his election and that of the legislative body.
His appointment had originally been different, and this circumstance contributed to keep alive the distinction. At present there is but one state in which he is chosen by the legislature.
I have alluded to the remark of a very eminent statesman
(Lord Brougham) that the appointments to the bench in England were unexceptionable. But the same statesman, in his
celebrated speech on the reformation of the law, declares that
"it is notorious, whenever a question comes before the tribunals, upon a prosecution for libel, or any other political matter,
the counsel at their meeting take for granted that they can
tell pretty accurately the leaning of the court, and predict exactly which way the consultation of the judges will terminate."
I doubt whether a like character can be given of the administration of justice in the higher tribunals of the United States,
in those whose jurisdiction resembles that otf the king's bench
and common pleas. And I am pursuaded that where this
habitual bias exists, it must more or less, affect the decision
of those civil controversies, in which the parties are of different political opinions. The same very able statesman speaks of
"'the incompetent judges," and " slovenly admistration of justice," as these are spoken of in the United States, in reference
to some of the judges of subordinate courts. In England,
until 1809, no judge could hold court in the county in which




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                143
he resided. In the United States, where no such prohibition
ever existed, the judges often voluntarily decline sitting in
their own county, lest an unfavorable influence might be exercised upon them. The " black book" confirms the observations of Lord Brougham. It informs us that a tory ministry
never selects a judge from the whig party, nor a whig ministry
one from the tory party. This, the author remarks, " tends to
lower the character of the judges in public estimation, by
clearly evincing that politics, as well as legal fitness, have a
share in ministerial promotion. It also instills into the minds
of expectant judges, and of men already on the bench, a party
feeling, fatal to strict justice, on political questions."  An election for a limited time, diminishes the temptation to run into the
excesses of party. The prize is not of sufficient magnitude to
overcome the natural sentiments of justice, which, in order to
have full play, only require that there should be no powerful
provocative to depart from them. The judge elected for a
term of years, balances in his mind the uncertain advantage
of retaining his place against the permanent advantage of
maintaining his character. It does not follow, that he will be
re-elected, even if his party should continue in power. The
principle of rotation in office, never fails to exercise great influence in a democratic community, and it reduces the tenure
of office to a mere contingency. If the public officers were
appointed for life, the prejudices which they originally contracted, would cling to them without any countervailing motives to moderate them. Thus an election by the people, a
tenure for a term of years, and rotation in office, which might
be supposed to push the democratic principle to its furthest
extreme, are the most efficacious means for restraining its disorders, and for giving to public opinion a more just, active,
and pervading influence. The legal ability which fits a man
for the bench, is very capable of being estimated by the generality of mankind. The capacity of the physician is much
more a secret, and yet no one, in any condition of life, is at a loss
to employ one eminent in that profession. Many may be unable
to pay the best; but who the best are is a matter of notoriety
in every town or neighborhood in which they reside. And for
more obvious reasons, this is the case of the lawyer.
As the connection between the interests of the great bulk




144             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
of the population, and the behavior of all public officers, is
very close, it would be a grand desideratum to establish a
thorough intercourse between candidates and constituents.
MIen of elevated character, now recoil from any thing which
might seem to have the appearance of soliciting for office.
But I observe in some parts of the country, a corresponding
disposition on the part of the people, an aversion to be caressed
and tampered with by the demagogue. "I do not know (said
a mechanic in one of our southern cities) what these candidates propose to themselves, in paying such assiduous court
to us the people. It will not deter us from exercising our judgment, but it may deprive them of our vote."  I predict that
the reaction of public men on the one hand, and of popular
sentiment on the other, will give rise to a more healthful
public opinion than formerly existed, and that the intercourse
of the two classes will be of a more rational character. This
would complete the security for the preservation of free institutions.
Te may refer to an example, which has only a partial application to the United States, but which is not the less
instructive on that account. The remaikable solidity of the
Venetian government, enduring as it did for a thousand years,
is attributable to a circumstance which was peculiar to it
among the other Italian states. The Venetian nobles engrossed the whole power, but they had no possessions on
the mainland, no castles and strong fortresses in the country.
They were shut up in a city built upon islands; in close contact, therefore, and under the constant observation of the
other class. They were unable to keep on foot large armies,
to wreak their vengeance on each other, or to battle with the
plebeians, as the nobles of Milan, Genoa, aInd Florence, were
accustomed to do. The disadvantage of their position, led
them  to cultivate the good will of the plebeians, who were
accordingly governed with more equity and moderation than
in any other Italian state. Very similar causes, although
operating on a vast and comprehensive scale, give stability to
the American republics. There is no political aristocracy, no
baronies, no military retainers; the civil aristocracy are mixed
indiscriminately, or, to repeat the expression, are shut up with
the other classes, and are both constrained, and disposed to
consult their interests.




CHAP. VII. ]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                145
A property qualification for offce has been retained in some
of the American states, even where it has been abolished in
regard to the electors. In the Athenian constitution, this
species of qualification was at one period dispensed with, except
where the office involved a pecuniary responsibility. In the
United States, the rule is reversed. Property qualification is
in some States required, to entitle to a seat in the legislative
body, when it is not demanded of the administrative officers.
But in the place of that qualification, another requisite, much
more effectual, is substituted. The officer must give security
for his fidelity in office. This reconciles the claims of the rich
and the poor, and at the same time attracts to the public service the talents and industry of all orders of men.
In England, knights of the shire originally represented the
county, in the house of commons. They were the lesser barons
-in other words, an inferior order of nobility. And although
this chamber is no longer modeled upon that plan, a property
qualification is still required of candidates. But, by the act
of 1838, this may be either of personal or real property.
It is a great objection to a high property qalification, that it
confines the competition for office to the rich exclusively. The
rich only can afford to practice bribery; and hence the English elections have been corrupt to a degree utterly unknown
in the United States. Thus, this remarkable consequence,
and one not at all calculated upon, has taken place, that in
those countries, where eligibility to office, as well as the electoral franchise, have been most restricted, the greatest corruption and licentiousness have prevailed; and where both
have been thrown open to nearly the whole population, the elections are the most orderly, and the most free from sinister influence. The rich will forever plut forth the lower qualities of
human nature, unless they are controlled by those who are
placed in circumstances of less temptation. A rich man going
to attend an election where none but rich men can elect, or be
elected, is like the twenty thousand nobles who used to march
upon Warsaw to choose a chief magistrate. The extreme variety which characterizes the pursuits of the Americans, the
diffusion of education, the.unobstructed intercourse of all
classes, and above all, the operation of the institutions them10




146             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK 1.
selves, disperse knowledge in every direction, and render the
property qualification useless.
The duration of the term of office is a matter of still graver
consideration. It is indispensable to the faithful administration of the government, that responsibility should be a vital
and active principle, not a mere form. And the only way to
accomplish this is by guarding against a too permanent tenure
of office. Those are the wisest institutions which render it
the interest of the officer to consult the public good. A system which succeeds in reconciling these two apparently contradictory things, is well calculated to beget habits of rectitude
and good conduct, which a mere conviction of the propriety
of such habits would be insufficient to instill. And it then
becomes as difficult to lay down these habits as it was originally to take them up. Doubtless there is an intrinsic connection between morality and self interest. All the seeming
exceptions to this rule arise either from some disturbing influence to the conduct of the individual who is called upon to
act, and to which he is not a party, or else they arise from
self-interest not being properly understood. That scheme of
government, therefore, which endeavors as well as it can to
combine duty with interest, conforms best to the original design of our nature, and tends greatly to the preservation of
public morality.
It may be supposed, if the duration.of office is short, that
it will lead to instability in the public councils. But there is
such a thing as too great stability, as well as too great instability, in government. This may seem to be a paradox, and
therefore requires explanation. A government, in order to
pursue any plan of public policy with constancy and vigor,
must be invested with power. But power is of -two kinds,
personal and political, and the last may be raised to so high a
degree as to be transformed into the former-to -become, in
other words, a mere personal authority in the chief of the
state. Nevertheless, all public measures will be characterized
by the greatest stability and uniformity. There is more simplicity in the management of public affairs, fewer cross-purposes to overcome, where government is at liberty to consult
its own separate interests, than where it is employed in administering the vast and complicated interests of a free and




CHEAP. YII.]    OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                147
intelligent people. In one sense, the governments of Russia,
Prussia and Austria possess this property of stability in a
pre eminent degree. The monarchs of these countries wield
an independent authority. No obstacle stands in the way of
their designs, so long as they keep within tolerably reasonable
bounds. There is a singleness of plan, an unity of purpose,
belonging to such governments, which cannot in the nature
of things be possessed by one into which the popular element
is infused. Thus in Great Britain, where the political power
of the community is shared to a considerable extent by representatives of the people, public measures vary more than they
do in the governments of eastern Europe. And yet, in another and still higher sense of the word, the government of
Great Britain does undoubtedly possess more stability than
any European government of ancient or modern times. The
stability of power and the stability of the government are,
therefore, by no means the same thing. The changes of administration, and the changes of public men, in Great Britain
and the United States, are more frequent than anywhere else,
and yet the institutions possess greater stability than do those
of any other country; and they possess it in consequence of,
and not in spite of these changes.
The enjoyment of an independent authority bypublic rulers
has been the principal incentive to all the criminal enterprises
which have ever afflicted society. From time immemorial,
power has been firmly secured in the kings and nobility, who
have ruled the European states; and the consequence is, that
from the Christian era, down to the peace of 1815, Europe was
the theater of the most atrocious and sanguinary wars. Since
this last period, the popular power, the real effective public
opinion in Great Britain, has at least doubled. The public
weal has therefore greater firmness and consistency, notwithstanding the changes of administration have been more frequent than before. If the president of the United States, and
the members of the senate, were hereditary officers, and the
house of representatives elected for a long term, it is more
than probable that America would have embarked in frequent
wars, when experience has demonstrated that the prosperity
of the country demands that peace should be its permanent
policy. And the vigor with which warlike enterprises would




148             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK IL
have been prosecuted, would have impressed upon the government precisely that character of stability which is so much
admired by unthinking individuals. A  system  which was
even productive of considerable instability in the ordinary
measures of government, would be greatly preferable to this.
It would protect the state from infinitely worse mischiefs.
The Americans, like most people who enjoy an uncommon
share of prosperity, frequently complain of the fluctuation in
the public measures. They complain, because they are not
able to grasp all the minor as well as the more important advantages of fortune.
The compensation afforded to the public officers should be
sufficient to insure competent ability, and should not go beyond this. High salaries create a separate interest in the
office, independent of the interests of the people. On the
other hand, low salaries render officers careless in the discharge of their duties, and the people, themselves, become
gradually reconciled to a feeble and bungling administration
of the laws, when they know that the reproach lies at their
own door. The legislator, therefore, must have sufficient
judgment to strike a mean between the two things. Moderate
salaries are one means of enforcing responsibility. And as
this is the hinge on which free institutions turn, it is fit that
we should avail ourselves of every device which is calculated
to give strength to it. Moreover, moderate salaries enlist in
the service of the State the abilities of persons in the middle
walks of life. As the rich can best afford to dispense with a
high reward, it might be supposed that this plan would cause
them to be the principal candidates for office. But such is not
the case. Moderate salaries chill and enfeeble their ambition;
they do not gratify the ardent and impatient desires of the
rich. But they contribute to raise solid usefulness from obscurity; and the officer who obtains an important post, finds
himself disabled in every effort he makes to leap beyond the
bounds of his legitimate authority. In the United States, far
the greater part of all public employments are filled by men
in moderate circumstances.
The numler, as well as the nature, of the public offices in a
republic, will depend upon the fact, whether it constitutes one
aggregate community, or has the form of a confederate gov




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               149
ernment. I say the form, because in every extensive and
populous state, it would be of the highest advantage to imitate the plan of domestic or local jurisdictions, even though
the government is not composed of states which were originally distinct and independent.
A territorial division of the state, of some sort, is an arrangement known to every civilized nation. Even the most
centralized government cannot dispense with it, since it is the
only way by which the public authority can be present everywhere at the same time. The principle on which the division
was originally founded, was very different from what it is now.
Most of the European states were at one time divided into
feudal baronies. These inferior governments have long since
disappeared. They are now merged into consolidated governments. But other divisions have been substituted in their
place, whether known as departments, circles, or shires. These
districts sometimes occupy the same ground which was once
marked out as the domain of a feudal sovereignty. Accident
has determined their extent, but not their use. When the
authority of the central government was feeble, these inferior
jurisdictions usurped nearly all power. Now that that authority is strong, they serve to convey it through all parts of
the country.
But the principle on which this division depends is very
different in different countries, even at the present day. In
some, the power which is set in motion in these smaller compartments, flows from the central government as its source.
In others, the central authority is itself the creature of the
lesser governments, and these continue, after the establishment of the former, to exercise a larger share of the power
which originally belonged to them. The United States afford
the most perfect example of this plan. Accidental circumstances gave rise to it. The states were independent sovereignties when the federal constitution was formed; so that
this precise arrangement cannot be adopted where all the
parts of society are melted into one homogeneous community.
But there is no more interesting problem in government than
to determine how far it is practicable to introduce the principle of the plan into all communities, no matter whether they
have the confederate form or not. Not merely because this




150             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
arrangement leads to a more convenient and efficient administration of public affairs, but because it is doubtful whether
the maintenance of free institutions in any state of considerable extent does not absolutely depend upon it. The establishment of local jurisdictions gives a new direction to the
whole course of legislation. Civil government is only a generalization of the principles on which the affairs of society are
conducted. But generalization may be pushed to such an
extent as to make us lose sight of very important interests
which, although they are-themselves capable of generalization,
are yet incapable of being ranged under the same class. By
effecting a separation of those interests which are common to
the whole society, from those which are local or sectional, these
last are brought distinctly into view-they are forced upon
the public attention.
In most countries legislators have occupied themselves exclusively with those large and ponderous questions which further the aggrandizement of the nation rather than its solid
prosperity. even the emperor Charlemagne was impressed
with this fact, and gave vent to the frank declaration that it
was impossible for one central government to superintend the
affairs of an extensive comnmunity.  Princes are forward
enough to tell the truth when they are not placed in a situation which obliges them to act upon it. But what was true
during so early a period as the ninth century, when society
was everywhere in a rude condition, must be still more true
in the nineteenth century. For the affairs of every civilized
state have become so complicated, and so minute, that they
cannot be administered with the requisite skill and ability by
a central legislature merely. Convenience alone would suggest the propriety of a territorial division, and the creation of
domestic jurisdictions, if not as extensive as those of Scotland
and Ireland before their union with England, yet much more
so than the departments of France.
But what at first may be a rule of convenience leads directly
to consequences of still greater importance. It lays the foundation of the great principle of the distribution of power, and
reconciles two apparently opposite qualities —popular freedom,
with vigor and efficiency in the government. No matter how
popular the mode of electing the public officers is, yet if in




CHAP. VII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                151
the United States there were no domestic jurisdictions to preside over the local interests, the government would be republican in form only.
I know nothing which is more calculated to arrest the
attention of the philosophical inquirer, as well as of the lover
of freedom, than the new character which has been impressed
upon the business of legislation in the United States. The
state governments are confined exclusively to the care of the
local interests; and this complete sequestration of those interests, from everything which appertains to the national administration, causes them to be more thoroughly studied and ap
preciated than could otherwise possibly be the case. There is
no security that legislation will be for the people, unless it is
by and through the people. Nor any security that it will be
by and through the people, unless the subjects of legislation
are brought so near as to be matter of immediate interest and
constant observation.
The legislatures of the American states have applied themselves more diligently and effectively to the care of the substantial interests of the people, than it has been in the power
of a single legislature in any other country to do. If there is
ground of complaint, it is in consequence of the excess of
legislation. But it is impossible to have enough of any good
thing, without having a superfluity. Experience, which becomes a great instructor, wherever the system of representation is thoroughly introduced, will assuredly correct this defect.
We will suppose that, on an average, one month will be
sufficient for the legislative sessions of the states; and that
five months will be consumed by the national legislature.
Thirty-four months then are required, in order to legislate advantageously for the national and domestic interests; a period
nearly three times the length of the year.  In Great Britain,
with a population considerably larger than that of the United
States, parliament sits on an average only six months. If we
make a further allowance for the unnecessary consumption of
time by the American legislature, and for the fact, that the
United States is in a state of greater progress than any other
country, it is still evident that the time employed by the
British legislature' is altogether too short to permit of an




152             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK I.
effective administration of the public interests in the sense
in which the term is now understood. If the country were
more extensive, and the population greater, six months would
still seem suffieient. Necessity would compress the immense
mass of public business into that short space; and the public mind would become habituated to it as the natural and
reasonable period. The defect arises from having a single
legislature to preside over the interests of twenty-seven millions of people. Nor will the defect ever be apparent, so long
as the system continues to exist. The human mind possesses
a wonderful ductility in accommodating itself to any set of
habits which have been fastened upon it. Thirty years ago
the American people were thoroughly persuaded that they
got along well enough without canals, and without the employment of steam, by land or water. And it was with the
greatest reluctance that they embarked in the plan of internal
improvements. The first project of a canal, on an extensive
scale, was literally carried through the legislature by storm,
amid the most virulent and formidable opposition. And it is
not improbable, if the position in which the American states
were placed after the revolution had not given rise to the confederate form of government, that the public would have been
completely reconciled to the establishment of a single legislature, where thirty now exist.
There is nothing peculiar to America rendering so much
more time necessary to the successful administration of the
public business than in any other highly civilized community,
unless it is the single circumstance of its free institutions.
For although society is in a- state of progression, yet it is so
only in consequence of these institutions. There is no country
which contains more wealth, a more thorough civilization,
and more general intelligence. It is then in the condition of
one of the oldest, instead of one of the newest, nations on
the earth. And it may be said, with great truth, that there is
more room for progress and improvement in every state of
continental Europe, if there were only the ability and opportunity to set in motion. In Russia and Denmark, the legislative body is nothing more than a council nominated by the
king. No doubt these councils seem to transact all the requisite business, and the machinery of government goes on reg



CHAP. VI. ]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                153
ularly from year to year, without any great feeling of inconvenience.  Nevertheless the disproportion, in point of efficiency, between those mock legislative bodies and the British
parliament, is nearly as great as between the last and the
combined legislatures of the United States.
There may be an inconsistency in erecting a government
for one aggregate community, and then morseling the public
authority by distributing it among a number of lesser governments. There is no inconsistency, however, if the plan is the
result of the natural economy of society. The principle on
which it is founded may be discerned everywhere, even in
those governments where it is intended that the national
power should be the most firmly consolidated. The departments of France, the corporate cities of Great Britain, are in
reality lesser governments, inclosed within a supreme government. And the only question is, whether the principle may
not be advantageously pursued much further, wherever constitutional government exists, without reference to the fact,
whether the state is one, or is composed of distinct members.
A people who constitute an undivided community, would
possess this advantage over the plan adopted in the United
States: that the creation of domestic jurisdictions, being the
act of the whole, instead of the parts, there would be less
danger that they would exercise a disturbing influence upon
the central authority. One is so much accustomed to consider
the American government as a system "' sui generis,7' as deriving its meaning and utility from the originally independent
existence of the parts, that it is supposed no system bearing
an analogy to it is practicable in any other community. The
mind is so habituated to consider cause and effect in the precise order in which they first presented themselves, that it becomes difficult to break through the association, and to make
application of our experience, where the principle is the same,
and the collateral circumstances only are different.
It is plain enough, that the independent character of the
states could not be preserved, if they had not power to superintend the domestic interests. But these interests do not acquire the character of domestic ones, in consequence of the
federal form of the government. The same reasons for regarding them in that light would have existed, if no such




154              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
government had been created. In other words, if the 4merican commonwealth had originally constituted one homogeneous community, the central authority would have been entirely
inadequate to the management of them, unless powers not exactly the same, but resembling those which now exist, were
distributed among a set of local jurisdictions. The effect of
the progress of civilization is not to diminish, but to increase
immeasureably, the whole business of society; and unless
this is skillfully and judiciously divided among a class of lesser
governments, the institutions, however carefully modeled at
first, must ultimately sink beneath the immense power condensed in a single government.  The example then which
America holds out is chiefly valuable, not because it proves
the utility of the confederate form of government; but because it teaches us, that in order to maintain free institutions
in their true spirit, it is necessary to make an extensive distribution of the powers of society; and that without any regard to circumstances which give rise to the formation of the
government. It presents a great problem in political philosophy, and not merely an incidental question in the history of
one particular set of institutions.
Even in the consolidated government of France, long after
the extinction of its feudal sovereignties, as late indeed as the
reign of Louis XV, a plan, in many respects resembling the
American, once prevailed. The provincial legislatures, or particular estates, as they were called, to distinguish them from
the general estates, or national congress, possessed very considerable local powers. Independently of the inferior civilization of France when compared with that of the United
States, at the period when this system  existed, and which
necessarily prevented it from working anything like as well,
there were several vices attendant upon it. It is only necessary to refer to two: 1st. The very imperfect responsibility of
the deputies to those provincial legislatures to their constituents. 2d. The power which they acquired, after the abolition
of the states general, if, indeed, they did not exercise it before,
of granting supplies for the whole kingdom, and not merely
such as were necessary to defray the expenses of the provincial governments.
The same plan' of local governments existed in the ten




CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE IN TTITUTIONS.             155
Flemish provinces, when they were a part of the Austrian
empire; and it is even more firmly established in both the
Dutch and Belgian monarchies, notwithstanding the limited
territory of each of them. That the system in these two last
instances does not perform its movements with anything like
the same precision as in the United States, is not the fault of
the system, but arises from a defective basis of representation, and from the imperfect responsibility of the provincial,
officers to the local population.
There is no foundation for the opinion that the existence of
these domestic jurisdictions weakens the force of the central
authority. On the contrary, this last is less embarrassed in
the administration of the national interests. That the formiation of a system of lesser governments constitutes a deduction from the whole mass of powers, which would otherwise
be deposited with the central government, is evident. For
that is precisely the purpose for which they are created. But
as the sphere within which the former move is distinctly defined, and the duties allotted to it are more simple than before,
it is enabled to act with more promptitude and energy. Like
the man who is intent on accomplishing some important design, and whose attention is distracted by a variety of other
pursuits, by ridding himself of all care for the last, he can
prosecute the former without interruption.
A central government, armed with extensive powers, stands
much more in need of checks, than of provocatives, to the
exercise of its authority. And if the establishment of local
jurisdictions gives greater force to public opinion, and raises
up obstacles to the exertion of too much power, it is not the
less valuable on that account. I have heard many persons
express admiration of the wonderful energy with which the
British government prosecuted the wars which grew out of
the French revolution. But if the expense had been defrayed
by taxes, and loans not resorted to, the people would have
seen that their substantial interests were placed in direct opposition to the enterprises of the government. It. was only
because this fact was hidden from their view, that those wars
were sustained with such amazing enthusiasm. The just fear
of unpopularity would have prevented public men from embarking in such an unnecessary contest. And although this




156             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BooKC I.
fear would have been regarded by some persons of very high
notions as crippling the power of the government, yet it
would only have crippled it in order to make the people
strong. The same obstacle has constantly existed to the
prosecution of similar enterprises by the American government, and the simple effect has been to accelerate the national
power and prosperity to a degree absolutely unprecedented.
And yet in a necessary war, there is no government which
would be supported with so much enthusiasm, and would put
forth so much power, as that of the United States. But more
than ninety-nine out of a hundred of the wars which have
ever taken place, have been unjust and unprofitable wars.
And if the machinery of a system of local governments contributes indirectly to diffuse the popular will through every
part of the country, and disarms the central government of
the power to do mischief, it is not the less deserving of our
admiration on that account.
But there is another view of the great advantages of that
system, which is not apt to be thought of: the maintenance
of the public authority at home-the inculcating a general
obedience to the laws, is the principal object-the final aim
indeed —of civil government. If that is attained, everything
else will go right. But the system of local governments contributes directly to the promotion of this end. It brings the
authority of the laws nearer to every one. The government
which undertakes to preserve order is not removed to a great
distance-is not regarded with an unfriendly eye-as if it
were constantly intermeddling with the interests of a people
with whom it had no direct sympathy. On the contrary, each
individual feels as if he were surrounded by an authority, in
the creation of which he himself bore a part, and which yet,
somehow or other, is more vigilant, and active, and imperative, than any other.
Thus, as the family and the school train men in order to
turn them out in the world afterward, so the domestic governments create a species of moral discipline on a still more extended scale. They educate their own people to obedience to
the laws, and then deliver them over to the national government. The authority of the last, instead of being weakened,
is redoubled by this preparatory discipline.




CHAP. VIi.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 157
Another advantage of the plan of local governments is,
that it prevents. geographical parties from exerting an inordinate influence in the national councils. These parties will
inevitably make their appearance in every country of considerable extent. It is not desirable to extinguish them, but
only to place them  at a distance, where their reasonings will
be heard, and their passions not felt. By creating local jurisdictions, geographical parties are enclosed within geographical
limits, and are not brought into eternal collision at the heart
of the government. Although such parties are actually found
on the floor of the American congress, yet if the state governments did not exist, they would have displayed a front
infinitely more formidable; and would have either jeopardized
the integrity of the union, or the existence of free institutions.
At present a vast amount of legislative power is withdrawn
from the national assembly, and circumscribed within bounds
so cleaerly defined, as to be not only harmless, but to produce
a skilful, and orderly administration of the public interests.
Although Great Britain is of very small extent when compared with the United States, yet if, when the Scotch union
took place, a compact had not been formed, securing to Scotland its ecclesiastical and civil institutions forever, geograpical parties would instantly have appeared, and would have
had an influence fatal to the public prosperity. Although the
separate legislature of Scotland was abolished, the effect of
the union -was to declare all its former acts to be permanent;
and thus to compel all future legislation to take a direction
conformable to them. It was the next thing to perpetuating
the' existence of the Scotch parliament.  For want of this
wise precaution, when the union with Ireland. took place, a
formidable geographical party has been kept alive in that
island, to the great annoyance of the peace of both countries;
* The articles of union between England and Ireland did, in terms, guarantee to the last, her laws. But there were in truth no Irish laws to guarantee. As early as the reign of Henry VI[, all the statutes made in
England were declared of force in Ireland, and from that period to 1782,
no sulbsqnent law could even be proposed to the Irish parliament, without
the conseti of the English privy council. This last disability was re
moved only eighteen years before the union.




158            NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK Iand producing heart burnings which never can be cured, until
England consents, or is compelled, to be just to Ireland.
What amount of power should be deposited with the local
jurisdictions, where the confederate form of government is not
established, is a question as novel as it is interesting. Doubtless, it would be necessary to adopt some medium between
the comprehensive legislation of the American states, and the
meager authority which is exercised by the French departments. The American states are complete governments within
themselves, having unlimited power of taxation, except as to
imposts on commerce, with an authority equally extensive
over the whole field of civil and criminal jurisprudence. Education, private and public corporations, internal improvements, all lie within the scope of their jurisdiction. They
have a written constitution, a regular legislative assembly, an
executive magistrate, and a corps of administrative officers,
together with a judicial system unsurpassed by that of any,other country. No one would desire to make any alteration
in this admirable plan of government, for it has not only contributed to a most wise administration of public affairs: it
has done more, it has hastened the march of civilization. If
it were impossible, in the case of a consolidated republic, to
obtain the medium I have suggested, it would be better to
adopt this system. But that there is such a medium is clear
from the examples I have referred to, of the particular estates
of France, and the provincial legislatures in the Belgian and
Dutch governments; examples which, however imperfect, are
nevertheless highly instructive, inasmuch as they present the
existence of the system in monarchical governments, to which
they are much less adapted than to countries where free institutions prevail. It is clear, also, from the various plans which
were proposed in the convention which framed the American
constitution; some of which seem to have proceeded upon the
idea, that the United States composed one aggregate community, and were modeled upon the hypothesis.
A certain number of deputies then will be sent to the national, and to each of the local, legislatures. As regards the
first, shall the whole country constitute one electoral district,
or shall each of the local divisions compose one, the people
voting by general ticket; or shall these divisions be subdi



CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              159
vided into districts, each containing the population which entitles it to one member? The first plan may be dismissed as
absurd. It has never been thought of, even in those European monarchies where the principle of representation has
been introduced. The'electors would be completely confounded in looking over a vast extent of country, for several hundred individuals, whom each was to vote for, and no choice
could be understandingly made. The central government, or
its managers, would choose for them.
But even if a selection in the genuine sense could be made,
there would be no representation of the minority. The party
in the majority would wield the power of the commonwealth
without control, without the corrective influence, which an
antagonist party is so well calculated to exert. The minority
might approach to within one or two hundred of the majority,
among two or three millions of votes, yet the last would elect
every member. Even in the consolidated governments of
Great Britain and France, therefore, the country is divided
into electoral districts, which is a plain acknowledgment that,
even where there are no local governments, there should be
local representatives. The justice and utility of recognizing
in some mode or other the local interests, is forced upon society, even where the form of government seems to forbid the
idea. The arrangement which nature makes of human affairs
sometimes rides over all the laws which are intended to counteract it.
With regard to two other modes of election, by general
ticket in each of the great local divisions, or by electoral districts carved out of those divisions, the reasoning which has
already been employed, is equally applicable to show that the
latter is greatly to be preferred, whether the elections are to
the national, or the local, legislatures.
In England, as before remarked, knights of the shire were
originally the representatives from the counties. The shires
were local divisions of the kingdom, and the knights of each
shire deputed one of their own number to parliament. The
continuance of these parliamentary districts has survived the
artificial state of society from which it sprung, and contributes in an eminent degree to the freedom and independence of
the legislative body. It is this mode of election which has




160              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
given rise to the question so often agitated: is the member
elected the representative of the whole state, or of the district which chooses him;-which is in some respects similar
to another question which might be put: whether man is an
individual or a member of society. The answer would be
nearly the same in the two cases. Man is both an individual
and a citizen; and the deputy is a representative of his district, and at the same time of his whole country. And as
that system of private conduct which most effectually consults
the welfare of the individual, conduces most to the prosperity
of the community, so that system  of public conduct which
most truly advances the interests of one part of the country,
is certain to redound to the advantage of the whole. But inasmuch as men do not always see things as they really are, as
ignorance, prejudice, and egotism lead them so much astray
in whatever regards the public interests, the system of domestic government is contrived in order to prevent the interference of sectional with the national interests. And thus the
question, is the deputy the representative of his district, or of
the country, is of infinitely rarer occurrence in the United
States, than it would be if the population composed one aggregate community. Election by districts mitigates the rigor of
the rule, that the majoriry are entitled to govern. It draws
the bond of responsibility closer, and it breaks the force of
party spirit. The first has been sufficiently explained.
Where local legislatures are created, the effect is that the
national interests are not represented in them, nor are the
local interests represented in the national assembly. This is
the general tendency of the plan; though as the boundary
between the two jurisdictions cannot be drawn with exact precision, exceptions will necessarily occur. The responsibility
of the deputy to the local legislature will be stronger, because,
if his constituents are local, so also are the interests which he
represents. The responsibility of the deputy who is sent to
the national legislature will be more complete: because, although his constituents are local, the interests which he represents are exclusively national. Where this distribution of the
powers of government is established, this further effect takes
place. As the responsibility of a legislative body is in an inverse ratio to the number of its members, after a certain point




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               161
is reached; so also the responsibility of the members is greater,
where those to whom they are immediately accountable do not
compose a great multitude. The representative of a district
is constantly exposed to the gaze of his constituents. He
might hide himself among two or three millions of people.
He cannot do so among fifty or an hundred thousand.
Whatever contributes to afford a clear insight into public
affairs, and enables everything to be seen in its true light,
abates the violence of party spirit. Whatever shrouds them
in mystery, and causes them to be seen confusedly, gives force
to party spirit. The representative is the instrument of communication between his constituents and the world of politics; and whatever causes his conduct to be distinctly surveyed, causes the system of public measures to be more easily
grasped, and more generally understood.
11




162               NATURE AND TENDENCY                  [BOOK I.
CHIAPTER VIII.
PARTIES-THE OFFICE THEY FULLFIL IN A REPUBLIC.
MANY persons of great intelligence, and who are inclined to
look with a lavorable eye upon the progress which society is
everywhere making, when they behold the scene of strife and
contention which parties in a republic give rise to, recoil from
it with dismay, and are instantly disposed to take refuge in
what they denominate strong government.  Nevertheless, it
is most certain, that the distinguishing excellence of free institutions conists in their giving birth to popular parties, and
ithat the annoyance and the inconvenience which these occa-:sion to individiuals, both in public and private life, are p)roductive -of incalculable advantage.  It ii a great mistiake, with.our knowledge of the constitution of humnan nalture, to suppose that society would be better ordered if its surfa*te were a
perfect calm.
The democratic principle has come into the world not to
bring peace, but a sword; or rather to bring I)eace* by a, sword.
One may easily conceive of an individual, that, his various
faculties may be so evenly balanced as to give rise to the justest and the nost consistent scheme of conduct. Antl one, may
liken the state to some huge individual, anid say t:at the rival
views al(d opinions of different parties coinspir)ie to t.h e saume
end; that when these are free to give, utteralce to their sentiments, a simtilar equipose takes place amonig'all par:ts of society, andt th it something like a regular  s stem takies place in
the conduct, of Ipublic affairs.
The hlumJani mlind, with all its capatbiilities of thlou tit and
action, is w(vill(rfully disposed to lis lessn, s DS; s,s, to: -, it requies the ntm}t, powerful incentives in or(Cler to roin-;e UtS dlormant enler'Jies.  And the conditiol of the gr:e;mt nij -iw;'ify of,mankilid i   n,-n.ch, that none blut those selsis   tif; e lht ich
touch theml (,,  ery side can be relied upon as t  1., i tm.  it-i,!-lut of




CHAP. VIII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                163
moving them. PBy giving a full play, and a favorable direction to these, we succeed in imparting activity to the disposition. And this being attained, a great amount of thought
and reflection is sure to be developed among the great bulk of
the population. Party spirit at bottom is but the conflict of
different opinions, to each of which some portion of truth
almost invariably adheres: and what has ever been the effect
of this mutual action of mind upon mind, but to sharpen
men's wits, to extend the circle of their knowledge, and to
raise the general mind above the former level. Therefore it
is, that an era of party spirit, whether religious, philosophical,
or. political, has always been one of intellectual advancement.
A powerful understanding may be sufficiently stimulated by
the study and investigation of abstract truth: but the diffusion of knowledge in the concrete, seems to be indispensably
necessary to produce this effect among the great majority of
mankind.
The existence of parties in a republic, even noisy and clamorous parties, is not therefore a circumstance which should be
regarded as inimical to the peace and welfare of the State.
It should rather be received as a special and extraordinary
provision, for furthering the interests and advaucilg the intelligence of the most numerous class of society. By creating
an arena on which all men may be active and useful, we are
certain of attracting an incalculably greater number to the
pursuit of industry and knowledge than would be possible
under any other state of things. The growth of popular parties constantly keeps pace with the diffusion of industry and
property. The diffusion of industry and property, by exercising the mind intently upon small things at first, exercises
it earnestly and seriously upon important ones in the end.
The true theory of popular parties then consists in multiplying the employments of private individuals-in increasing
the active industry of the whole community. The regular
deportment and habits of reflection which these produce counteract the vicious tendencies of the system, and operate as a
safeguard against the extreme excesses and the violent revolutions which occur in other countries. As the interests of private persons under this system becomes more and more identified with those of the State, each one has a desire and a mo



164              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
tive for understanding and taking part in public affairs. The
question in human affairs is never whether any particular arrangement shuts out all mischief and inconvenience, but only
whether it excludes the greatest practicable amount; and not
of one kind merely, but of all kinds. Thus, although in a
democratic republic, a vastly greater number of people take
lart in politics than under any other form of government, the
minds of a vastly greater number are exercised by some
healthful and useful occupation, which not only inspires sagacity and energy, but communicates a character of seriousness
and reflection to the whole population.  The weak side of
human nature is thus constantly proplped up and strengthened.
The bickerings and animosities of parties are not extinguished;
but there is, notwithstanding, a greater degree of public tranquility than would otherwise exist.
Popular parties are not only the natural result of elective
government, but what is of much more consequence, they are
absolutely necessary to uphold and preserve it. It is too common to regard certain arrangements of society as a sort of
necessary evils; and thus very imperfectly to comprehend
their true design, and the important agency which they have
in securing the public welfare.
As the political institutions in a republic are of a totally
different character from what they are in monarchical or aristocratical government, there is a corresponding diffeere-c, in
the machinery which sets each of them respectively in motion.
In the artificial forms of government, a system of checks and
balances is devised, to secure the influence of the public
authority, and to maintain each department in its proper
place. But such an expedient would be futile and powerless
where government means vastly more than the rule of the persons who fill the various public offices. In a republic, a sub.
stantive part of the political authority is designedly communicated to the whole population. We want something more,
therefore, than a scheme of checks and balances within the
government. As the forces which are set in motion are so
much more extensive, we must contrive some machinery
equally extensive, for the purpose of controlling them. And
thus popular parties very naturally, not to say necessarily,
take the place of that curious system of checks and'balances




CH[AP. VIII.]    OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                165
which are well enough adapted to a close aristocracy, or pure
monarchy, but which play only a subordinate part in representative government.
In a despotism, parties have no existence. Factions there
may be, but not parties. In all the other artificial forms of
government, the constitution of parties is more or less
imperfect, because they are overborne by an extraneous influence which disables them from faithfully representing opinions. In a democratic republic, the people themselves coinpose all the existing parties. Hence opinions are not only
submitted-to examination, but they are submitted to the examination of those who are immediately affected by them.
But the greater the number of persons who are consulted with
regard to any measure which has an important bearing uponi
their interests, the greater is the probability that it will be
adjusted with a view to their common welfare. The process
may be tedious and circuitous, but this is an advantage, since
it will cause a greater amount of reflection to be employed.
Moreover, when opinions have to pass through a great number of minds before they are reduced to practice, society does
not experience a violent shock, as it does upon their suddenl
and unpremeditated adoption. Factions stir the passions of
men, but parties introduce the conflict of opinions.
It would appear, then, that the wider the arena on which
parties move, the more numerous the persons who compose
them, the less dangerous they are to the state; which is the
reverse of the conclusion to which the great majority of men
are inclined to lean.
The absence of parties in a country of free institutions,
would imply the existence of unanimity on all occasions. But
in the imperfect condition of man, unanimity would not be desirable. As in the individual, one faculty is set over against
another, in order to elicit the greatest amount of judgment,
wisdom, and experience; so the mutual encounter of rival
opinions, in different sections of society, constitutes a discipline of the same character, on a much larger scale. Unanimity, which has the appearance of being the only rightful
rule, would, if it were conceivable, render society absolutely
stationary. Man is not born with knowledge; and all the useful or noble qualities which he ever exerts are the offspring of




lC6             ]NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK 1.
variety, not of uniformity. Constituted as human nature is,
there would be no virtue without some conflict of interests,
and no wisdom without some conflict of opinions.
And this supposes a very important fact in the history of
society; that although the majority rule, the minoritS, by virtue of the naked power which belongs to opinions, are able to
exert an indirect, and yet very decisive, influence upon the
course of public affairs. This influence is so great, that no
one who has been accustomed to examine the workings of society in different countries can fail to have been struck with
the repeated instances in which the opinions of a minority
have triumphed over those of the majority, so as ultimately
to become the settled and established opinions, and to transform the minority into the majority. And this, notwithstanding the civil institutions may not have been very favorable
to the rise and growth of parties.
Among the important changes in the scheme of public policy which have taken place in Great Britain in very recent
times, may be enumerated the abolition of the slave trade,
the amelioration of the criminal code, the introduction of more
liberal principles into commerce, the reformation of the civil
jurisprudence, Catholic emancipation, and parliamentary reform. In each of these instances the new opinion commenced
with an exceedingly small party, and encountered in its progress the most solidly established authority. If the triumph
has not been complete, it is certain to become so, in consequence
of the strong ground which these very efforts have enabled
popular parties to stand upon. So far from a minority not exercising a very marked influence upon the conduct of public
affairs, the instances will be found to be exceedingly rare in
any country where opinions are able to make themselves felt,
in which a minority have not succeeded, if the cause it espoused entitled it to be victorious. This fact would seem to
show that so far as effective and permanent influences is concerned, it is of little consequence whether an enlightened
scheme of policy is first suggested by the minority, or the majority. The fact that it is enlightened gives it a claim to success, and that success is almost infallible.
Among the important movements which have taken place
in American society may be noticed the revolution, the estab



CHAP. VIII ]    OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               167
lishment of the federal constitution, and the ascendancy which
the republican party attained in 1801. Each of these revolutions commenced with an inconsiderable band, which ultimately won its way to public confidence, and totally reversed
the position of parties. The declaration of independence was
only carried by one vote. The freedom of the colonies might
have been rightfully asserted half a century prior to 1776.
But although the struggles of opinions may have been more
protracted than that of armies, it always terminates in more
decisive results. As to the second of those revolutions, the
establishment of the confederate form of government, it was
at one time deemed absolutely impracticable. Governor Pownall, in his work on the administration of the colonies, written
about the time of the celebrated convention at Albany, declared that they had no one principle of association among
them, and that their manner of settlement, diversity of characters, conflicting interests, and mutual rivalship, forbid all
idea of an union. And Dr. Franklin, who was one of the commissioners to that convention, declared that an union of the
colonies was absolutely impracticable, or at least, without
being forced by the most grievous oppression and tyranny.
The acutest observers, and the most experienced statesmen,
underrated the force with which opinions are armed, when
they are pursued with a steady and unfaltering resolution.
The third revolution was the natural consequence of the
others. The two first acted upon the political institutions,
and remodeled the government. The last acted upon the
manners, and brought the laws, and the structures of society,
into harmony and agreement with each other.
I will mention but two instances in the history of the state
governments, in which the opinions of a party greatly in the
minority have finally prevailed, and obtained an almost unlimited ascendency. These are the amelioration of the criminal code, and the establishment of a system of internal improvements. Each of these enlightened schemes originated
with a very small party, the one in Pennsylvania, and the
other in New York. And they have not only conquered all
opposition in those states, but have extended their influence
over the whole union.
The struggle of near with old opinions will be more tedious




168              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
in an old than in a new country. The abolition of the laws
of primogeniture, and the simplification of the code of civil
jurisprudence, did not occupy much time in the United States.
In Great Britain, it is only within a few years that the second
has been even partially accomplished. The first may not be
effected in half a century or more.
Thus, whenever the general state of public opinion is least
prepared for an important change in the existing institutions;
that is, whenever agitation, discussion, and the encounter of
rival opinions, is most necessary, and will be productive of
most advantage-by developing a great amount of observation and experience-the struggle of new opinions is the longest protracted; and wherever these qualities already exist in
great perfection, the contest is short, and soon brought to a
close.
As soon as the period arrived when Congress had authority
to abolish the slave trade, it was abolished. The debate on
the subject is not one of the memorable debates in the American
legislature. Butit is one of the most memorable which has taken
place in the British parliament, during the last half century.
It is curious to notice the manner in which parties deal with
each other, and to watch the process by which opinions are
communicated from one to the other. For parties would be
without meaning and without utility, if they were eternally to
battle with each other with no other result than the alternate
loss and acquisition of power. The desire to obltain the ascendancy may be the moving spring which at:tualtes each; but
fortunately this spring cannot be set in motion in a country of
free institutions, without rousing a prodigious amount of reflection amcnig a very large portion of the population. Doubtless the true use of parties is very far from being to administer provocatives to demagogues to gratify their private ambition. Their selfish views may be necessary in order to animate them in the pursuit of certain opinions. But the moment these opinions are promulgated, they are subjected to a
searching examination in all parts of society, because they are
felt to have a practical bearing upon the substantial interests of
all. The true office of parties then is to elicit anud make manifest the amount of truth which belongs to the tenets of each;
so that the great body of the people, who belong to no party




CHAP. VIII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               169
save the party of their country, may be both easily and understandiugly guided in the path they pursue.
In the progress of the struggle which takes place between
parties, they will often be very equally balanced, and each
will, for a time, alternately acquire the ascendancy. The first
time that the party which before had been habitually in the
minority, attains a decided preponderance, is felt as a presage
of permanent success. The new opinions are then deemed to
be practicable. Old associations are broken, and a new impulse is given to the new party. The party which had been
a'.customed to carry everything, falls back into the minority;
and this example of the instability of power sets every one a
thinking, and even amid the strife of politics, produces more
prudence and moderation. The party in the minority, and
now discarded from power, is at first disposed to cling to its
most extreme opinions. Its pride has been wounded, and its
ambition disappointed. It has no idea of turning to any sets of
opinions upon compulsion. But a popular party contains a vast
number of individuals whose temperaments, modes of thinking, and opportunities of information, are often exceedingly
different, and whom it would be impossible to fashion as you
would a close body into one unalterable form. Reflection,
sooner or later, takes the place of passion. And as the attachment of individuals to their own independent opinions is
often much stronger than to the opinions of a party, every
assurance is afforded that the new  and enlightened opinions which have been introduced into the public administration, will not only be the rule for the party in power, but
that they will spread their influence more or less over the
men of all parties. Every one soon sees that there is really
no such thing as compulsion in representative government;
and that if a system of policy has fairly won over a majority
of the suffrages of twenty millions of people, a very considerable portion of truth, to say the least, must belong to that
system. They recollect that as no one man can represent
the whole of humanity, so no one party can represent the
whole truth in politics. Thus the minds of many, who were
most obstinately set in the opposite direction, are gradually
opened to the reception of new opinions. They begin to
declare, for the first time, that some very important changes




170              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BooK I.
were necessary to secure the well being of the State. Great
numbers openly go over to the opposite party-some from
settled conviction, others from a sort of instinctive feeling
that all was not right before. This gives additional strength
to the majority, which, when it does not advance merely novel
opinions, but appeals to truth and to the judgment of mankind, is sure to retain the supremacy for a considerable period. Everything then becomes fixed and settled.
But this very fixation of everything, so delightful to those
who have deen tormented by anxiety, and tossed by contrary
hopes and fears, is not to last forever. This state of repose is
often as fatal to the maintenance of free institutions, as the
ill-regulated ambition of parties. Prosperity corrupts parties,
as well as individuals. The long enjoyment of power persuades those who have possessed it, that it can never be
wrested from them. Abuses, though not perhaps of the same
kind, break out again.' These abuses gain strength gradually.
They are fortified by the prejudices which the prescription of
time creates, as well as by the self-interest and cupidity of the
leaders of party. Any attempt to root them up, is regarded
as before, as an attempt to change fundamental usages, and to
tamper with the vital interests of the community. Then commences a new struggle, very much resembling the former; the
same circle of opinions will be described as in the former revolution. Everything will again be set right, without shedding one drop of blood, without the employment of any other
instrumentality than the simple dropping of the ballot. But
it may happen that the new opinions which now spring up,
will not be entitled to as entire confidence as in the former
revolution. In the progress of the controversy, each party
will cause some portion of its own opinions to be adopted.
The issue will not be so decisive. A new party, or probably
an old party, with views greatly modified, will succeed to
power, and will preside for another term of years. It is in
this way that all parties find themselves, somehow or other,
represented in the state-some virtually, others potentially;
and although the government is frequently exposed to the
most formidable power by which it can be assailed, that power
is exercised so steadily, and yet silently, as to overturn nothing, and yet to revolutionize everything.




CHAP. VIII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                171
There is another very curious inquiry connected with this
subject; one which unfolds a very instructive chapter in the
history of human nature. I believe it will be found, on a
close observation, that parties in a republic, in great numbers
of instances, originate in, and are nourished by, secret rivalships in private life; and that although questions of state
policy serve to designate them, and to give them an outward
form, those questions are, in great part, laid hold of in order
to give force and effect to feelings of a very different kind.
If the history of every hamlet and neighborhood in the United
States were written, this fact would be found verified with
wonderful exactness. But it is not necessary that we should be
acquainted with the chronicles of all. It is enough to seize
the events which pass under our own observation. What
takes place in a few, will differ in no material respect from what
transpires in all.
This is a view of the subject which is not only exceedingly
curious, as affording an insight into the workings of human
nature, but is highly instructive, as it sheds great light upon
the formation and composition of parties. It is generally supposed, that individuals connect themselves with parties upon
political grounds; that is, that they are influenced by a persuation of the propriety, or impropriety of certain public
measures. This is a great error. Numbers enter into these
associations, from motives which are of a purely personal or
private character. And this is true equally of the common
people, and of the higher classes. In speaking of motives of
a personal character, however, I do not at all refer to the preference which is felt for a particular leader; for this is generally of a negative character. It may help to decide the
turn which parties sometimes take, but falls entirely short of
the view to which I wish to direct the attention of the reader.
To a very great extent, parties are formed and changed in consequence of the position in private life which individuals
occupy. Any one who has lived in any town in the United
States long enough to make an accurate observation of the
structure of society, and the dispositions of the people who
inhabit it, must have noticed that there is a constant tendency
towards what may be called the supremacy, or precedence, of
certain individuals or families. These will, perhaps, be com



172             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [nooK I.
posed of the old residents, of the merchants, of professional
men, etc. As adherents of these, will always be found a number of the inferior classes, so that it cannot be termed a merely
aristocratical party.  Two circumstances, however, in the
progress of time, contribute to weaken, or entirely to break
up this association: 1st. Where any body of men, no matter
how wide or how narrow the sphere of their influence may be,
has maintained a certain degree of precedence for a considerable time, those who compose it become confident in themselves and annoy others, by making show of their influence.
2d. In the great majority of towns under twenty thousand,
there will be a lack of talent in this body, owing either to the
circumstance, that the long enjoyment of a fixed position in
society diminishes the motives to exertion, or that there is not
now enough for the strenuous action of mind upon mind.
Either of these causes, and, of course, both combined, lead
very naturally to the crumbling of the party, and to the formation of new opinions, and a new party. I visited several
parts of the United States during the administration of James
Monroe. Parties could not be said to be extinct, but they
were feeble and inactive. In every town and village, and I
may add neighborhood, a predominant and complacent influence was exercised by certain families, or individuals, on the
principle I have suggested. I visited, or obtained accurate
information, of most of these some years afterwards, when
parties were distinctly formed. These parties were termed
political, and, in outward appearance, had no other character.
But political disputes only gave occasion to them, and afforded a plausible ground for open hostility, when, in truth, the
actuating motives were of a strictly personal character, and
it was the individuals who were arrayed against one another.
Everywhere it was the new men against the old; very often
the talented and the ambitious against the supine and unintelligent. In many instances, it was the reverse; it was the
radical, the ignorant; the persons jealous of any influence
which overshadowed them, no matter how rightful that influence was, who battled against superior talent, and long continued influence. In many instances, whole counties and districts of country, were revolutionized, the new men succeeding to the old. In others, the new men did not succeed in




CHAP. VIll.]    OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                173
obtanining the mastery; but they notwithstanding wrought a
great change in the habits and mode of thinking, of other
people; for even ineffectual opposition may have a very advantagous influence. It wakes up those against whom it is
directed; it leads them to soften, or correct their defects;
otherwise they cannot maintain the victory they have won.
In hardly any instance were political questions the springs
which brought about these changes. One body of men simply felt uneasy in the subordinate position which it seemed to
occupy. In general conversation and in public meetings,
questions of public policy were seized as the ruling motives;
in private conversation it was otherwise. There, people freely
declared that political questions were of very inferior moment,
compared with the annoyance which was daily experienced in
private life, from the complacent rule of a clique, which could
show no intrinsic title to respect.
It is of great importance that these views should be thoroughly studied by every one. Public controversies are not everything, even in politics. Every community requires, if I may
so express myself, to be occasionly ventilated; and this can only
be done by operating upon the secret and more delicate springs
which work the machinery of society. We thus gain a clearer
insight into the origin, character, and fluctuation of parties. It
is as necessary to study the physiology of society, in order
to understand the workings of government, as it is to study
the physiology of man, in order to penetrate the character of
the individual. The changes I have referred to are periodical.
They take place about every generation. The reason is obvious: a period of twenty or thirty years is necessary to confirm the authority'of any body of men, and until it is confirmed, it is not very troublesome to any one. Those who are
growing into manhood then unite with the discontented among
the older men. If this view does not present a very flattering
picture of human nature, it at least shows, that through the
instrumentality of some very harmless agents, important
changes in the structure ot society, are brought about silently and peacefully. A democratic community will not therefore be so liable to those terrible shocks, which, in other countries, are necessary to sweep away public abuses.
If we suppose that there are two or three men in a neigh



174              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
borhood who possess considerable influence, whether arising
from family connections, wealth, or any other of the advantages of fortune, this at once lays the foundation for rivalship
in its most secret forms. Envyings and heart burnings insensibly grow up. This is a fact we are bound to know, only to
draw instruction from it. This rivalship gradually extends to
the connections of -each, to their friends, and acquaintancesto all those who may be disposed to take refuge under the influence of one, rather than others —until at length the whole
neighborhood is involved in their disputes. One perhaps acquires a decided ascendancy; and in a few years this disproportioned influence incommodes great numbers of people in
all the walks of private life. Many immediately declare, that
they can see no reason why so much importance should be
ascribed to any one who does not possess either eminent virtue or ability; and they set themselves to work more vigorously than ever, in order to abate so great a nuisance. At
the same time political questions are discussed, and agitated
everywhere, and regular parties in the state are organizing.
Each of these neighborhood clans connects itself with one or
other of those parties, as the chance of success in their private
views may dictate. The democratic party is understood to be
the one which is most favorable to the equal rights of the
citizens; and all the opponents of this mimic aristocracy in a
country neighborhood ally themselves with that party.
The iirfluential man does not always put himself forward as
a candidate for office. He feels that this would be to create
envy among his own dependants-that it would be a danger
ous test of his capacity and wisdom. But he brings some one
forward who leans upon him, and who, if not the most capable, will be the most available man. And party politics now
having two faces, the most available will generally be the
most i cWomtpetent man. This mixture of private views with
the political questions of the day, will sometimes render the
macLinery of parties very complicated and difficult to understaid. And it will cause oscillations among parties when
they were least expected. But we will suppose that the democratic party prevails. The influence which was before so serious an annoyance, and the subject of so much complaint in
private, is then greatly diminished. Some one whose connec



CHAP. VIII]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                175
tion with the wealthy will be less obvious, and whose reliance
upon the masses will be closer, is elected. He also may be
nicknamed an available man —that is, a man whose face is
smoothed-or a practical mlan, which means a man with a
single idea. At any rate the personal weight and importance
which political promotion gives him, and the bright prospects
which every one beholds opening in his path, concur to clothe
him with a very enviable share of influence. Or, if he also
has been merely put forward to further the private schemes of
others, the same effect is produced. A new influence is raised
up in the neighborhood to act as a counterpoise to that which
before prevailed. But in a few years, the same annoyance is
felt in consequence of the ascendancy of this new party. Men
begin then to exercise a bolder spirit of inquiry than they
were willing to trust themselves with before. They see no
reason why wealth, or any other fortuitous advantage, should
give claim to precedence in society. The new favorite perhaps
owed his elevation to personal motives and private views.
But he is perhaps not fully sensible of this; or, at any rate,
it does not readily occur to him, that after being elected to a
public station, of considerable responsibility, he has any other
vocation than to attend to the public business. He separates
the end from the mcans, and congratulates himself with the
reflection that now a public trust is confided to him, he will be
at liberty to act with a single eye to the people's interest.
After an interval more or less long, during which there will
be great fermentation in the ranks of both parties, some new
man will be selected, who will reflect the feelings, as well as
the political opinions, of those who elect him. His success is
almost certain; for the private aims and secret prejudices
which were originally set in motion, have been continually
gaining strength. And in order that the successful candidate
may now well understand the line of conduct which he is expected to pursue, what were before regarded as motives, which
might well enough influence without determining public conduct, are erected into opinions, on which full as much stress
is laid as on any of the questions of public policy. This gives
a deeper movement to the workings of parties. All sorts of
opinions are now hazarded; men approach inquiries, which
before were only touched lightly, and by stealth. The fault




176             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
with the public man now is, that he runs into the opposite extreme. He takes his constituents literally at their word, and
acts out his part even to exaggeration. He is intent only on
gratifying his spleen: he indulges in personal invectives, in
gross and indecent assaults. He has brought himself to believe that the public business is not merely of secondary importance, but that it is of hardly any importance whatever. He
administers provocatives enough to the bad passions, but neglects and mismanages public business. The consequent derangement of political affairs is now more or less felt by the
people in their private interests. Moreover, they are mortified
in finding that some portion of the disgrace which their favorite has incurred attaches to themselves. Numbers then confer together, but in such a way as to avoid if possible the notice of the opposite party. They consult in private, how it
may be possible, with the least noise and inconvenience, to
remove the present incumbent, and to elect some one of prudence and discretion, even though his talents should be as
moderate. A majority, perhaps, are candidly of this opinion;
but a considerable number still cling to their personal views,
as being the true index of public opinion; and without the aid
of this body, it will be impossible to effect anything. Without their votes, the majority will fall back into the minority.
All the private consultations are then hushed up, and the differences, which produced them, are forgotten for a time. The
party displays a bold and decided front at the polls, and reelects the former man. But the blow, which is to crush him,
is already struck. His enemies are gathering strength. They
even feel envious of him, that he is in a condition to display
so much more energy than themselves. The minority of the
party feel that it would be absurd that the majority should
constantly yield to them. Besides, the new fashion of thinking begins to infect themselves. They regard their favorite
with coldness, simply because so many people are disposed to
discard him. They even permit him to feel this, in order that
he may so act toward them, as really to deserve their cold
treatment.
During all this time, and while these changes succeed each
other, with more or less rapidity, the utmost inquisitiveness is
excited among all orders of men. The connection which has




CHAP. VIII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               1177
taken place between politics and private manners, brings the
former more completely within the reach of every one. It
seemed impossible before to gain admission to state secrets,
so as to have any notion of the complex machinery by which
government is worked, simply because there was so little to
stir the feelings, and through that medium to rouse the understanding.
This difficulty is in a great measure removed; and in, spite
of the eternal wrangling of parties, or rather in consequence
of it, a greater amount of knowledge, a keener sagacity, and
juster views, are created than would otherwise exist. Those
who had formerly been invested with influence, and who
imagined they were the hinges on which society turned, look
on with amazement, to find public aflairs conducted as well as
when they took the lead. They observe that an entire revolution has taken place in the disposition and management of
society. They ascribe this to envy, and doubtless envy had a
great part in bringing it about. But, in human affairs, the
inquiry is not always what is the cause of any particular
change, so much as what is the character of the change itself.
It is a great compensation for the existence of bad passions
and propensities, when we cannot be without them, that they
may ultimately be subservient toward rendering human nature
better than it was before.
Through the instrumentality of the cause at which I have
merely glanced, in order to set the reader a thinking, knowledge has been diffused, and power and influence, in both public and private life, have been more evenly balanced in every
township and county of an extensive country. These views
contribute to explain a remarkable fact in the history of parties in America. Taking any considerable series of years, it
is surprising to find how often parties have been very equally
balanced. The see-saw politics of some of the states seems
to be a reproach to them. But beneath this outside appearance there is always something to ponder upon. For if, on
whichever side the scale of power inclines, the equilibrium of
influence in every village and neighborhood is disturbed, the
only way to restore it is by throwing more weight into the
opposite scale, and thus the oscillations of parties may be
almost as frequent as the annual elections. As soon as one
12




178             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
party obtains a decided predominance, new rivalships grow
up. A multitude of passions and desires (independent of the
political controversies' of the day,) are set in motion, for the
purpose of displacing it, or diminishing its authority.
Hence another apparently singular phenomenon, that individuals of the most opposite political predilections, and of
the greatest difference in point of character and mind, are
habitually ranged in the same party. It would be deplorable
if it were not so. And although one party is sometimes
foolish enough to arrogate to itself all the virtue and talents
in the community, yet there is, in truth, a very equal distribution among the men of all parties.
Another and equally curious fact may be noticed, that parties often seem to exhibit a mere struggle between the ins and
outs. But if the power which is brought to bear upon politi(al affairs is adjusted and regulated by the power and influence which are distributed in private life, and if this affects
human happiness more than all other causes put together, the
struggle may conduct to very important ends. I have already
said that in a republic, parties take the place of the old system of balances and checks. The latter balance the government only, the former balance society itself.
Frequent changes of the public officers are a consequence
of these vicissitudes among parties. But it is of the greatest
importance, in a country where the electoral franchise is extensively enjoyed, that as large a number of the citizens as
practicable should be initiated'into the mode of conducting
public affairs, and there is no way by which this can be so
well effected as by a rotation in office; and the direction,
which party disputes take, affords the opportunity of doing
it. If it were not for this, public employments would be continued in the same individuals for life, and after their death
would be perpetuated in their families. But public office, of
even an inferior grade, is a species of discipline of no unimportant character. It extends the views of men, trains them
to the performance of justice, and makes them act for others
as well as for themselves. It thus binds together the parts of
society by the firmest of all bonds, and makes it tend constantly to a state of order and tranquility, in the midst of the
greatest apparent disorder. If men were less quarrelsome; if




CHAP. VrII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                179
an easy good nature was all that moved them, they would not
be inclined to change their public officers as often as the interests of society demand. The detriment, which would follow, would be much greater than any which their quarrels
produce.
It has been supposed, that where these changes are frequent,
the persons elected must, for the most part, be inexperienced
and incompetent. The fear lest this should be the case is
wisely implanted in our nature. It holds us back when we
are about to run into an extreme. The feeling is as much a
part of our constitution as any of its other tendencies, and
must be strictly taken into account in every calculation which
we make as to the general working of the system. But public
office itself creates, to a great extent, the very ability which
is required for the performance of its duties. And it is not
at all unconmmnon, when individuals have been snatched up
from the wallks of private life to fill responsible stations, to
find that the affairs of society are conducted pretty much
upon the sainme principles, and with as much skill and intelligence as before. Habits of order and method are soon imparted to the incumbent, and they constitute the moving
spring of all effective exertion, either mental or physical.
In a republic, the rise and fall of parties are not merely
revolutions itl puhlic life, they are revolutions in private life
also. They tlisplace some men from office, but they alter the
relative 1)ositioar of a much -greater number in private life.
Political controversies afford an opportunity for parties to
develop thlemstelves: and these controversies do very often
present a legitimate field for discussion. But they do not
contain ever3 t ling; they do not express the whole meaning of
parties. A  given scheme of public policy may affect very
remotely the substantial interests of the population; but the
jostling of mnet in private life is a perpetual source of uneasiness andl discolntent, and they seek to relieve themselves by
an alliaicte with party, because, as individuals, they are powerless, wbhile p}imrty associations are strong.
The views -tand actions of men may be the most narrow and
selfish imnginable, and yet they may terminate in consequenees of t. ei  most beneficial character.  The prominent
men of each party exert themselves to carry extreme meas



180             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BooK I.
ures; a great multitude of private individuals intend to
acquire some advantage unseen, but not unfelt, over their
neighbors. The fall of a party at such a time, like a sudden
stroke of adversity, quells the pride of the politician, and
inculcates prudence, caution, and forbearance, in private behavior.
The reason why the workings of party are so much more
ramified and extensive in a republic, than in any other form
of government, is easily explained. In monarchy and aristocracy, the bulk of the people are spectators, not actors; and
the operation of parties is necessarily confined within a narrow circle. But free institutions presuppose that the mass of
the people are active, not passive citizens, and parties not
only regulate the conduct of the handful of men, who preside
over public affairs; they regulate also the conduct of the millions, who, although out of the government, yet constitute the
springs which set the government in motion. If this were
~not the case, if there were no regulative principle to shake.society,;as well as to act upon the government, there would
be no way of maintaining free institutions. Men who hold
~office may be punished for misconduct; but how is it possible
by legal enactments to punish whole parties? When, however, a party is tumbled from power, the individuals composing it, lose caste-lose some portion of that consideration,
which before attached to them. If this produces more boldness ac(i recklessness in some, it promotes more reflection and
prudence in others.




CHAP, IX.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              181
CHAPTER IX.
A REPUBLIC IS ESSENTIALLY A GOVERNMENT OF RESTRAINT.
No one who is an attentive observer of human nature, can
fail to be struck with the amazing influence which the opinion
of a multitude of men exercises over the mind. We can stand
up and confront a single individual even though we are far
from being right, but we recoil with a sort of dread from any
opposition to the opinion of a great number. Many causes
concur to produce this effect:
First. If the individual feels awed by the presence of a
Dmultitude, it is because he is conscious that they are rendered
strong by being in a body. This must necessarily be the case.
Men are physically stronger when they act together, and they
are morally stronger when they sympathize together. The
phenomenon then is easily explained.  The principle even
shows why the individual is awed, where he is in the right,
and the multitude clearly in the wrong. That multitude, so
far as physical injury is concerned, is as strong as before; so
far as moral injury is concerned, it is not near so strong; but
it is much stronger than the individual.  Their sympathy
with one another is still a weapon of offence, agairst those
who do not share in that sympathy. The individual then
feels his weakness, because the sentiment of sympathy being
a principle of his own nature, he is left without support, when
he is entitled to the strongest. The first feel their strength
as before, simply because sympathy is a principle of moral, as
an actual union is of physical strength. The principle mani.
fests itself in another shape. When an individual is conceived to represent a multitude, no matter whether it is an
enlightened or an unenlightened multitude, his presence to a
certain extent, conveys an impression of their presence, and
produces a similar effect.




182             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOIK I.
The institution of patron aud client which prevailed in
Rome for so long a time, is an illustration of the same principle. Individuals surrounded themselves with retainers, not
merely to add to their physical power, but to increase their
moral influence. The same custom was introduced into the
republics of Florence, and Genoa, in tLe middle ages, and
gave an artificial weigh  and importance to those who adopted
it. Even in England, traces of the same custom are clearly
discernible as late as the beginning of the sixteenth century.
The practice of having a numerous body of retainers, and
giving them badges, or liveries, was not put an end to, until
1509, in the reign of Henry the Seventh. Even where no such
custom exists, we can still perceive indications of a disposition
moving in the same direction. Everywhere we see men allying themselves with other men, not merely openly as with
parties, but tacitly with other individuals, in order to inspire
themselves with confidence, and to give countenance to their
behavior. In a democratic community, where individuals fear
each other so much, the custom is difficult to be established,
but the weapon of ridicule is wielded by cliques and coteries,
as the mnost convenient mode of attack.
Second. The notion of right and wrong is implanted in all
men. That we should feel distress and anxiety when we do
wrong, requires no explanation; for this is runnintg counter,
if not to our propensities and passions, yet, at any rate, to the
governing principle of our conduct. To say that we feel an
immoral action to be wrong, whatever may be the allurements
with which it is accompanied, is the same as to say that the
sense of right is felt to be the authoritative principle, and that
any departure from it fills us with uneasiness and apprehension.
But, in the second place, the training and formation of the
human character are conducted in youth, when the mind is
feeble and without much observation and experience. We
therefore, emerge into a world where a system of opinions and
conduct is already established, and it does not seem unnatural,
but rather a necessary consequence of the process by which
human conduct is shaped, that we should defer greatly to the
standard of opinion which is erected, and our deportment (not
so far as regards the fundamentals of morality, but) as regards




CHAP. IX.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               183
those actions to which are affixed the appellations fit and unfit,
proper and improper, reasonable and unreasonable, should be
compressed into a conformity with it, and that any revolt
against it should be followed with a sense of dread and uneasiness. And this more especially as so large a proportion of
this class of actions affect other men, and carry along with
them, not merely the force of opinion, but that of authority.
If it should be said, that the presence of such a, force, constantly acting upon the faculties of men, and holding them ill
check, must frequently have a disturbing influence upon their
actions, this will be admitted; but there is, on the whole,
much greater security for the preservation of a tolerably right
standard, than if every one felt himself independent of the
opinions of all. This singleness in the character of the rule
gives unity to those numberless actions which are isolated,
and prevents their being drawn too exclusively in the direction of self-interest.
Each individual is apt to view himself from a point lifferent
from that where he is viewed by others. His horizon is more
limited than theirs, not because he has fewer or feebler faculties, or because he has less correct notions of right, but
because, in the case of the individual, these notions are liable
to be obscured by feelings and interests which, although they
may be common to all, are obliged to be kept under and restrained, when they come to think and act in a body. There
is a high probability, therefore, that the opinion of an individual as to his own conduct is biassed, and an equal probability that the sentiment of the body is impartial. The mere
apprehension that this may be the case hangs like a perpetual
weight upon each one, and renders him, to say the least, more
thoughtful and circumspect than he would otherwise be. He,
is thus better enabled, in those instances where he is in the
right, and they in the wrong, to appeal from their judgment to
the judgment of mankind.
That class of actions which are generally denominated selfish, carry for the most part their own antidote along with
them. That they are selfish, constitutes the great protection
of the community against their inroads. For it will be easily
seen, that if there were the same sympathy with others in the
gratification by them of their lower propensities, as there is




184             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
in their noble and disinterested actions, the former would gain
the mastery, and society be converted into a bedlam. However men may act therefore in particular instances, both the
secret and the declared opinion of every one is obliged to be
on the side of right. And this opinion is even fortified by
self-interest, when self-interest comes to be viewed from the
proper point. For although the private interest of the individual may sometimes seem to coincide with the commission
of wrong, when it is abstracted from all regard to his relations
with others; yet it can never do so when these relations are
taken into the account. Now our relations with others, if they
do not create, at least modify, that whole circle of interests
which we denominate private. I do not now speak of those
actions which spring from the lower propensities, but of those
which are employed by every one in the improvement of his
outward condition. The pursuit of an absolutely separate interest by some would consequently break in upon the private
interests of all others; while, at the same time it is equally
clear that a regard for the rights of all others is the only
guarantee that our own will be preserved. Here.then, also,
what is termed the general opinion is obliged to take a direction favorable to the common weal, and unfavorable to the
selfish views of individuals. In this way the opinion of all is
brought to bear upon each; and hence it is that in a democratic republic, where the government appears to be wanting
in authority, and individuals to possess unbounded freedom,
what is termed public opinion is armed with so much power,
inspires so general a respect for the laws, and so much terror
on the infraction of them. In what is termed strong government, society is dividedinto fixed classes, one of which sits in
judgment upon all the others. But it is far less probable, that
the opinion of a class should represent the opinion of mankind,
than that the combined sentiment of a whole community should
do so. The laws having consecrated that class as a separate
interest, have to that extent confounded the opinion of right
with that of interest.
It would appear, then, that liberty is essentially a principle
of restraint. It is true, if others are free while I am not, the
principle operates unequally —the restraint is on one side.
But if I am admitted to the enjoyment of the same privilege,




CHAP. IX.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               185
my actions will impose a check upon the conduct of others,
and their actions will impose a corresponding check upon me:
and the influence of the principle will be more or less felt
throughout the whole of society. The exercise of unrestricted
freedom by all, when all are free, is a self-contradiction. It
supposes a power in each to invade the rights of all others, in
which case liberty would fall to the ground and no one be free.
The possession of the privilege then by all, limits its exercise
in practice, and men are restrained and controlled, precisely
because they are free. My liberty of action is an habitual
restraint upon the conduct of others, when they attempt to
invade my rights, and their liberty is in similar circumstances
a restraint upon me. It would not therefore be strong enough
to say that where free institutions are thoroughly diffused, it
is the evident interest of every one to impose a restraint upon
his actions. It would be still more correct to say, that the
constitution of society renders it necessary that he should
do so.
The walks of private life furnish us with a fine illustration
of this important principle. The youth looks forward to the
time when he will arrive at manhood, with feelings of delight
and exultation. His imagination paints it as the introduction
to a state of unalloyed enjoyment. But he has no sooner entered upon the world, than he finds himself hampered and
controlled on every side by a multitude of other beings who
have acquired the same freedom as himself. The restraint
which he met with under the parental roof was nothing when
compared with the iron weight which now presses upon him;
and although no one can claim to be his master, so that physically his actions may be freer than ever, yet he finds, what
before he very imperfectly understood, that the moral force
which men exercise upon each other in society, is the sharpest
and most powerful of all kinds of restraint.
Now, free institutions produce an effect of precisely the same
character, and on a much larger scale. They advance the
whole population to the condition of political manhood. If
they do not confer anything like the enjoyment which was
anticipated, they give rise to what is still more valuable: they
multiply the cares and interests of life, and teach to the great
majority of men habits of prudence, of reflection, and of self.




186             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOIC I.
command. That they do not produce this effect in all instances,
and in very few to the extent which is desirable, is no answer
to the view here taken; nor does it afford any good reason
why we should never speak above our breath, when we are
discoursing of the benefits of liberty. That there is a marked
tendency to the production of the effect I have noticed, is an
important fact, since it shows that if liberty is power, it is
also a principle of restraint. And if a general acquaintance
with the manner in which the principle operates, will contribute to strengthen this tendency, we have abundant reasons
for speaking out all that we know.
When I make reference to the mighty influence which the
opinion of a multitude of men exercise over the human mind,
I do not shut my eyes to the fact, that the principle may operate sometimes, nay, that it does very frequently operate, so
as to have a sinister and very pernicious influence, by giving
an undue authority to associations and particular sections of
society. I am aware that in this way a party, nay, even a
clique, whether in public or private life, may acquire such
dominion for a time, as to incommode and afflict great numbers
of other men. Parties collect the opinions of a multitude into
one focus, and make them appear like the judgment of an invisible being. They have been able therefore sometimes to
oppress the most upright individuals, and even to countenance
acts of insurrection against the public authority. No one has
ever mastered a general principle, until he is cognizant of all
the leading exceptions to it. The argument in favor of free
institutions, therefore, never proceeds upon the ground that
they are exempt from imperfections; but that they are more
so than any other form in which government has been cast,
as much so as we dare expect from any scheme which human
ingenuity may invent.
That invisible power which we term public opinion, only
tends to be right, in proportion as it resembles itself to the
opinion of mankind. And I cannot help thinking, that -this
effect will take place in proportion to the number of men who
are in the possession of liberty, and who on that very account,
are driven to habits of thought and reflection. The parties
and cliques which spring up. in a republic, however noisome




CHAP. IX. ]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                187
and hurtful they may be in some respects, may contribute to
further this important end. For:
First.' They either presuppose, or they excite to, an abundance of curiosity, observation and inquiry. Instead of one
or two great eminences, and all the rest of society a dead
level, we have a great many eminences, helping about as well
as human imperfections will permit to lift the great body of
the population to a higher condition.
Second. These parties, associations, and cliques, become
so numerous in a republic, that they thwart, counteract, and
control one another. Their frequent discussions and wrangling lead directly to the detection of each other's impostures,
and serve to correct the aberrations into which the different
sections of society are perpetually falling. By modifying, and
limiting each other's views and opinions, public opinion is
brought more and more into an accordance with the voice of
mankind. It is an immense boon to society when, if anything
is transacted in society which is prejudicial to its interests, it
shall at any rate not be done in a corner: that all who act for
the public, or upon the public, in order to acquire any influence, are compelled to act openly. The so doing is the recognition of the existence of a tribunal of opinion above themselves, which sooner or later rejects all their false and pernicious opinions. Perhaps the majority of persons of intelligence and observation —all who have carefully pondered upon
the experience which they have had of human nature, and
from it deduced general results-instead of being perplexed
by the exceptions, are sufficiently convinced of the wholesome
influence which free institutions exercise. The only question
with them may be, whether it is ever expedient to speak out
so loud as to be overheard by the masses.
It is not necessary to scan American institutions with a
very critical eye, to perceive that notwithstanding the great
amount of liberty which is set afloat, and the imflammable
character which this liberty sometimes possesses, that there
is some how or other a sort of self-regulative principle residing
in the society, which tends to keep everything in its proper
place: that this principle can no where else be so distinctly
traced, and that it is entirely different from the formal authority which the government wields. And as there is no reason




188             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK I.
for supposing that there is anything very mysterious about
the matter, when all the machinery of society is openly exposed to our observation, the fact, however novel, must admit
of explanation, and what explanation so natural as is to be
found in the restraint which the very enjoyment of liberty
causes every individual, and each member of society, to impose upon one another. It is the partial distribution of the
privilege, not the communication of it to all classes, which
has occasioned so much disorder and insubordination in society. Rights and duties are reciprocal. My rights in relation
to others are the foundation of their duties toward me, and
their rights give rise to a set of corresponding obligations on
my part. Hence we may say, in a general way, that the equal
communication of liberty, by enlarging the circle of duties in
the same proportion as it widens the sphere of rights, tends
constantly toward the introduction of a principle of restraint,
which reaches more or less every part of society. Not that
the American people are naturally better than the people of
other countries, but that the political and social organization
renders it the interest of a greater number to respect and
obey the laws, and that this feeling of interest operates in
such a way as to have not merely a persuasive, but a coersive
influence. Not that there are not many evils incident to
American society, but that there are fewer than in other governments, especially when we take into account those secret
and uncomplained-of grievances, which are smothered by the
hand of power, or which are made to appear insignificant
amid the dazzling glare of the throne and aristocracy. Lord
Coke has said of the court of star chamber, that "the right
institution, and orders thereof, being observed, it doth keep
all England in quiet." And if such extravagant and unfounded notions could be entertained in that period, we may
be permitted at the present day, to search through society for
some more homely, and yet more active and diffusive, principle of order.
There are two opposite plans of introducing order and good
government into society. The one consists in arming the civil
magistrate with a very large share of authority, and thus
making every one feel as if an enemy were at his door. The
other, not unmindful of the importance of clothing the public




CHAP. IX. ]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                189
functionaries with ample power, is yet chiefly intent on enlarging the sphere of popular rights. It expects to fortify
the authority of government in this very way. The first is
the plan of almost all the European governments: the second
is that of the American republic. By pursuing the last, we
add an additional force to society-we cause the people to
control each other, as well as to be controlled by the authority
of the laws. The working of the same principle may be observed in one or two of the European communities: but it
manifests itself in exact proportion to the degree in which
popular liberty has growa up.
It is not placing an undue estimate upon free institutions,
therefore, to say that in a republic, the distribution of justice,
and general administration of the laws, will be attended with
more weight and authority, than in either monarchial or aristocratic government. The fact is of the greatest consequence,
since it enables us to draw so near the solution of the very
difficult problem, how to reconcile popular liberty with political power.  The experiment was deemed perilous in the
extreme, until the firm establishment and thorough working
of American institutions, when what was once a brilliant
theory began to wear the character of a regular and wellcompacted system. Sir James Mackintosh was perhaps the
first English statesman who clearly descried a principle of
order in this new community. The living under such institutions for a considerable period, might beget habits of acting
which would insure their perpetuity, was very nearly the
remark of that enlightened man. Many intelligent Europeans
still hesitate. The difficulty of the experiment may be at an
end in America: but they feel unable to calculate the exact
amount of influence which American institutions may exert
upon their own. They therefore prefer to exercise the obvious
duty of patriotism, rather than to seem precipitate in espousing the most salutary principles. There is nothing so difficult
and irksome as the taking up a line of conduct, however wise
and reasonable it may be, provided it is something entirely
foreign to our former habits. Its claim to respect only increases the awe which its novelty is calculated to inspire; but
the llan once entered upon, it is amazing how fast the difficulties vanish, and how easily the new habit sits upon us. What




190             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BooK 1.
is true of an individual, is, for obvious reasons, still more true
with regard to a community.
If in Great Britain and France, there exists at the present
day more public order, as well as a firmer and more regular
administration of the laws, than at any antecedent period, I
do not know to what cause we must ascribe it, unless it is to
the infusion of a greater amount of popular freedom into the
institutions of the two countries. Invariably, a wise and
liberal communication of liberty has the effect of appeasing,
instead of inflaming the passions. But more than this, where
the population only feels the pressure of their government,
they are apt to herd together like miserable sheep; they are
unconscious of any other danger than that which stares them
in the face, and take little or no account of each other's
actions, although these exercise so wide and so constant an
influence upon the public weal. I think if any one will follow
carefully and minutely the workings of American society, he
will find that the people are fully as much occupied in keeping
each other in order, as they are in checking the authority of
their governments. It is only by doing the first, that they
succeed in doing the last.
In a democratic republic, public opinion is a thing of more
comprehensive import than it is anywhere else; and it is made
to bear more extensively upon delinquents, public or private.
In the artificial forms of government, the force of society is
wielded by the few. It is an iron armor worn by a class set
apart. The consequence is, that although the great bulk of
society stands in awe of it, they also most cordially detest it,
since whatever we fear, we also hate, and whatever we both
hate and fear, we endeavor to beat down, openly if we can,
furtively if we must. But in a country of free institutions, I
discern a marked difference in the feeling of all classes, where
crime has been committed, or insurrection set on foot. The
guilty persons, as soon as they have time to reflect, are con.
scious that they are under the ban of public opinion. They
whisper to themselves, "it is not a privileged class who seek
to trample upon us; it is our fellow citizens whom we have
arrayed against us; the judgment of mankind will condemn
us." Such very nearly was the exclamation of one of the
actors in an American mob. This species of awe has a won



CHAP. IX.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                191
derful effect in crumbling to pieces the stoutest league which
was ever formed. The insurgents soon feel themselves to be
powerless, their weapons drop from their hands, they fall off
one by one, and seek to hide themselves from public view.
The general truth of these remarks is abundantly confirmed,
not only by the few instances of civil commotion which have
occurred in the United States, but by the remarkable facility
with which they have been suppressed.
This subject is obviously one of great and of increasing
interest, and very naturally suggests many other very important views. In the first place, it must be admitted that hardly
any instance of insubordination to the laws occurs in the
United States, but what we hear complaint of the indecision
and backwardness of the public magistrates, at the commencement of the affair. Whenever any circumstance is observable
in the political history of this country, which is different from
what takes place elsewhere, there is to say the least, a high
probability that there is some adequate reason for it and
that it is not necessary to suppose, because the precise mode
of executing the laws which is practiced in other governments
is not adopted there, that therefore the American police is
very defective, or that it is infected with the sanme spirit of
licentiousness which is displayed in other parts of s,ciety.
The complaints which are uttered, the uneasiness which takes
possession of all classes, lest the laws should not be executed,
are themselves unequivocal symptoms of the sounrlmless of
public sentiment, and of the operation of that moral force
which is of so much consequence in guarding the peace of
society. In the second place, this apparent laxity in en f'rcing
the laws, is in great part attributable to the few public disturbances which take place, and to the fact, that they are invariably of a local character. The American police, if I may
use the expression, have not got their hand in —they have, seldom had the opportunity to become initiated into the practice
of using brute force. An insurrection does not', as in other
countries, threaten to sap the foundations of governmeLnt, and
to carry desolation into the heart of society. The Americans
can afford, therefore, to proceed with a little more caution
and deliberation than other governments. It is the strong,
not the weak, who are most sparing of their strength.




192             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
Third. This caution is the result of another circumstance
which is equally calculated to engage our attention. It springs
from a conviction which, whether openly expressed or not, is
constantly felt, that one side is not necessarily altogether in
the right, and the other altogetherin the wrong. The Amnericans have got to acting upon this principle as one of some appreciable value, and do not permit it to remain as a barren
and unfruitful maxim in the code of ethics. It pervades both
public and private society, in all their ramifications, and yet
the supremacy of the laws is firmly upheld.
Fourth. This wise prudence, this apparent slowness to act,
causes less mischief to be done, and restores order more
speedily and effectually, than if a detachment from a standing
army were commanded instantly to shoot down the rioters.
The shocking enormities of the French revolution were not
put an end to until the middle class took matters into its
own haids, and by intervening between the two extreme
parties, was enabled to exert both more prudence and more
resolution. The great difference between the two countries is,
that in America the population is almost entirely composed of
this middle class. That is done constantly and silently, and
by way of prevention, which in France could only be effected
after the two parties had shed torrents of blood.
A habitual desire to avoid, if practicable, all extreme measures, is eminently favorable toward rousing reflection, and
inspires all who would make opposition to the laws with a
sense of insecurity and distrust in themselves. They see that
the moral and physical force of society are against them, and
they very soon learn that the forbearance which springs from
humanity is invariably coupled with bravery, and that it is
the invariable precursor of the most resolute and determined
behavior. The government, which is strong enough to use
forbearance in every act of authority, is sure to gather all the
strength which the occasion demands. No band of men, however imposing it may be, can maintain a conflict of any duration with the public authority, unless it can go beyond itself,
and derive support from public opinion.
Various conjectures have been hazarded, in order to account
for the remarkable order and tranquility which have existed
in the United States. The most plausible are those which




CHAP. ix.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                193
ascribe it to the exemption of the country fromn foreign war,
and to the incessant occupation which the several departments
of industry afford to the population. But in truth, these are
only auxiliary circumstances, very well fitted to give full play
to the operation of some other principle, but insufficient of
themselves to account for the phenomenon. Very opposite
effects have frequently taken place. A season of peace has
sometimes been highly favorable to the growth of internal dissensions and conspiracies of every kind. In the Italian republics of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the period
of their greatest prosperity, the suspension of foreign war
was invariably the signal for reviving the most implacable
disputes within. The various branches of industry offered an.
inexhaustible fund of occupation to the people; for Italy was
then the greatest, agricultural country in Europe; and was
also the principal seat of commerce and manufactures. But
in examining the constitutions of those states, we find that no
higher political privileges were accorded to the people, than
are possessed in the most of the monarchical governments
now existing, and not near so high as are enjoyed by the
English commonalty.
The Italian nobles looked upon government as an institution made for their benefit, and spent the lives and property
of the citizens to gratify their personal ambition. The liberty
which they possessed was not met by a corresponding liberty
in other parts of society. The people were held in restraint,
but there was no principle of restraint to operate upon the
superior classes. Too little freedom in one quarter leads
directly to too much power in another, and the very natural
consequence is, an eternal conflict between the different orders
of society. The foreign wars which have scourged the European states, have been the effect rather than the cause of the
discontents and unequal condition of the population.
The wisest plan then, perhaps the only practicable one in
the end, for all countries, is that pursued in America: to communic~ate equal rights to the people —to throw them indiscriminately together, instead of dividing them into fixed orders. They are then compelled to associate freely, and this
ultimately ripens into a confirmed habit.  Individuals and
classes then act as a perpetual restraint upon each other.
13




194              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
They are brought to an easy understanding of all these difficulties and interests which, under a different constitution of
society lead to interminable feuds. Doubtless people incomumode each other very much in a country of free institutions,
but this is the secret of the good effect which takes place.
They are made to act as watches upon each other, to consult
each other's temper and disposition, to balance the great advantage of acting from reflection. They become keenly alive to
each other's faults, simply because they have so deep a stake
in each other's conduct. A new force is applied to society,
which acts in detail, and not merely in the gross, and which,
by regulating the conduct of individuals in the first instance,
succeeds ultimately in regulating that of the masses. The
machinery may be very imperfect after all, but it is the best
which is placed in our power. Free institutions are the only
instrument on a large scale for elevating the general condition
of the people, because they are the only species of government which is capable of being converted into an instrument
of moral and not merely of political discipline, for all classes.
As the preservation of order, the maintenance of the lawvs,
the causing one part of society to be just to all others, are the
great end of civil institutions, it is plain that unless the republican form contains some active principle of restraint,
which shall take the place of the consolidated authority exercised by other governments, it will be no better than monarchy
or aristocracy.
The tendency to reflection has been noticed as one of the
striking characteristics of modern societies. Everything seems
to depend upon the cultivation of this quality. lieflection is
what distinguishes the civilized man from the savage; and it
is reflection which makes some men lovers of order, while
others are vicious, and disorderly. In the midst of civilization, we are always surrounded by some remains of barbarous
life. The great desideratum in politics is, how and to what
extent we can get rid of them. Now the principle of equality
is eminently calculated to teach habits of reflection. First,
it makes men depend very much upon themselves, taxes their
own resources, and obliges them to make exertions which they
would otherwise never put forth.  Second, it brings them
more into contact with each other, and thus multiplies their




CHAP. IX.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               195
mutual relations: since all our efforts to better our own condition have an immediate reference to others; and whatever
multiplies the relations of man to man, enlarges the whole
field of observation, and gives more both to think and to act
upon. It may be that at some future day, it will not be necessary for some men to be vicious, in order to compel others
to be virtuous. The principle of equality may cause jostling
enough among men to keep them in order, without that wild
license which not only makes them touch at every point, but
causes them to trample on each other.
I cannot help thinking, that they who suppose when the
population of America has grown to its full complement it will
be exceedingly difficult to uphold free institutions, have nlagnified the danger arising from that source, or rather, that they
have mistaken the influence which that circumstance will exert
upon the destiny of the country. The denser the population
becomes, the more will the people be brought into close proximity with each other, and the more rigorous will be the control which they will mutually exercise. This may be regarded
as a law of society which, unless it is countervailed by other
circumstances, is certain and invariable in its operation. It is
a wise provision, and one productive of the most salutary consequences; the check increases in intensity, in proportion to
the need which we have for it. More tranquility prevails
among the European communities, than when their population
was one-third or one-fourth of what it is now. To refer to the
general progress of civilization would be reasoning in a circle,
for the progress of civilization is itself in great part attribatable to the increase of the population. The vast empire of
China, where civilization has been stationary as far back as
history goes, seems to show that the density of the population
is not merely not adverse to the maintenance of tranquility,
but that it is highly favorable to it. The form of civilization
is greatly below what exists in Europe and the United States,
but it is superior to that which exists in the South American
states.
I know few things better calculated powerfully to arrest our
attention, than the fact that, during two years (I think 1835
and 1836), there was not a single execution in London. Lon.
don is itself an immense community; and that amid such dis



196             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
cordant elements, such an eternal jangling of interests, such
a craving of all sorts of wants and desires, so much order and
tranquillity should be maintained, is to say the least, a striking fact in the history of society. Nor is this state of things
an accidental one. The diminution of crime, for a series of
years before, had been very regular. The convictions for murder, and for assaults with intent to murder, were, for a period
of ten years, commencing with 1816, no more in London than
they were in New Orleans during the same time. The population of the one was not more than thirty-five thousand, of the
other a million and a half. In the United States, it is in the
thinly settled states of the west and south-west that oVtrages
are most frequently committed, and the authority of the laws
set at defiance. Those states, without doubt, contain an exceedingly sound population; but great numbers of the profligate emigrate to them, because they know they will be less
exposed to the surveillance and control of others, than they
would be amid the fuller population of the older states. If it
should be said that this state of things is owing to a defective
administration of the laws, it may be answered that this defect
would be cured by a more numerous population. Public opinion is the most effectual auxiliary in the execution of the laws;
but public opinion is necessarily feeble where the settlements
are, to a considerable extent, composed of wandering adventurers. Those states are rapidly passing through the same
purifying process which all the others have gone through.
They will ultimately contain as sound, because they will contain as dense, a population as other parts of the union.
The reason then, why the control which the parts of society
exert upon each other is more stringent and more active as the
population increases, is obvious. Individuals, and collections
of individuals, are placed more completely within reach of each
other, and have a more immediate interest in each other's conduct. No one can then exercise his faculties, or perform any
action however insignidcant, without affecting many others.
Each individual acts as a sentinel upon his neighbor, and
thus, through the co-operation of all, the private interest of
each is rendered as consistent as possible with the interest of
all.
There are then two sorts of control existing in society; the




CHAP. IX.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                197
one a control on the part of the government, the other of the
people upon each other. The last is a most important element
in the social organization of the present day.
Free institutions give force to both species of control. The
principle of equality which pervades them brings individuals
into closer juxtaposition; and the check which these habitually exert upon one another's behavior not only familiarizes
them to the authority of the government, but greatly interests
them in upholding it, since the laws are only intended to accomplish what the great majority of private persons are aiming at, but which they are too feeble to effect.








BOO K  II.
CHAPTER I.
WRITTEN CONSTITUTIONS.
THE formation of a written constitution is one of the most
decisive steps which has been made toward the establishment
of free institutions. It implies the exercise of reflection in its
highest degree, an ability to frame the most comprehensive
rules, and to make application of them to the actual affairs of
men. Most governments are easily enough initiated into the
art of governing the people; but a written constitution is a
scheme, by which the governors themselves are proposed to be
governed. The commencement of this very important movement is of recent date. We cannot carry it further back than
the era of the American revolution. For although a few examples have been handed down to us from antiquity, and one or
two attempts of the same kind are recorded in European history, prior to 1776, the differences are so numerous, and so
fundlamental, that we are not entitled to range them in the
same class with the American constitutions. It sometimes
happens, that a mere difference in degree between two things
is so wide as to place an absolute distinction between them.,
and to render them  opposite, instead of resemblances of one
another. The constitutions of antiquity confounded what we
would characterize as political ordinances with the acts of or
dinary legislation. This was the case in the code of the Poman decemvirs, and it was equally so in the systems introduced by the Athenian and Spartan lawgivers. One design
of a written constitution, is to define the boundary between
political and civil laws. For as it is not intended that the




200              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK ITL
two should have an equally authoritative character, it is not
intended that they should have an equally durable form. This
incongruous mixture of two things so different was therefore
an infirmity. It showed that the mind had not jet got so far,
as to be able to analyze its ideas in matters of government;
no matter whether this analysis is the product of great learning, or whether it is the result of a long course of experience.
Not to estimate the difference between two things, is not to
understand the nature of one of them at least; and so to make
one, or both, occupy an unfit place in the system  which we
construct.
This subject has given occasion to very important discussions in France, since the establishment of constitutional monarchy; and it has sometimes required the efforts of the most
enlightened French statesmen, to prevent the error I have
alluded to from being committed in 66 the charte."  Once settle the relative powers of the different departments of governments, and the office of the legislative body will be plain
enough. Its power will be better guarded, and yet will be
more full, and ample, than it would otherwise.be.  The varied exigencies of society, the unforseen changes which take
place in humana  affairs, the slow accumulation of that wisdom
which flows from experience, all demand, that once the orbit
within which the legislature is to move is marked out, a
large and liberal discretion should be given to it in the enactment of -laws.
But that which places the greatest imaginable difference betweenl the constitutions of antiquity and those of the United
States, is that the former were in no sense the offspring of the
populatr will; while on the contrary, the latter have emanated
directly from  the people. The. same may be said of those
European states which now have written constitutions. Those
constitutions have been the gift of some self-constituted lawgiver, or have been imposed by bodies of men who very
imperfectly represented the supreme authority of the state.
The constitutions of antiquity showed clearly enough, that
there were among the citizens some individuals of contemplative and cultivated minds. But they indicated nothing further.
They afforded no evidence that those great truths, which lie at
the foundation of all just and legitimate government, were




CHAP. I. ]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               201
seized and appreciated by the people at large; or rather they
afford incontestible proof to the contrary. A conjectural plan
of government is as easily draawn up as any other composition; which is one reason, perhaps, why many otherwise enlightened understandings affect to treat all such works very
lightly. A constitution which deals in certain pre-conceived
general princijples, and seeks to mould the affairs of men into
a conformity with them, is very different from a system of
government which undertakes to arrive at the knowledge of
fundamental maxims, by availing itself of a vast fund of ex:
perience and observation existing among the people themselves. The American constitutions were for this reason a
really difficult and arduous achievement. The difficulty did
not consist in the degree, but in the extent, of intellect necessary for the occasion. A plan of government in which the
popular will has had a direct agency, presupposes a very wide
diffusion of intelligence, and this at once stamps upon the undertaking both a practical and a comprehensive character.
Lord Somers and his colleagues, who took the lead in the revolution of 1689; Benjamin Constant and Lafayette, who took
the lead in the kindred revolution of 1830, were the real thinkers and actors on those occasions. But Hamilton and Madison, equally great names, who took the lead in the formation
of the American constitution, were but spokesmen of the popular will. Hence the profound and impressive debates which
took place at that time in popular assemblies; and hence the
necessity which was felt of laying before the public a full exposition of the proposed plan of government. The letters of
Publius are, in this respect, perfectly unique. No similar production is recorded in the history of ancient or modern civilization.
Some of the remarks I have made are applicable with still
more force to the attempts which have been made, by individuals of ingenious and powerful understandings, to frame
schemes of government for a whole people. We might as well
tear out of the volumes of Plato, Harrington, or Mr. Hume,
the plans of a republic which they conceived, and ordain them
as constitutions, as to call Mr. Lock's and the Abbe Sieye's
efforts by that name.
Nor is there any reason for surprise, that the popular mind,




202             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOIK II.
and not merely the popular will, should have so direct an
agency in the formation of a constitution of government, as
is manifestly the case in America. If the mere addition
which a life of the closest study and the greatest learning,
makes to the mind of the highest capacities, is not so great as
the knowledge which is possessed by the man of the most untutored understanding, a fact of which there can be no doubt,
there is nothing unnatural in the supposition that the plainest
men, when they are placed in a situation favorable to the acquisition and realization of a large amount of political experience, should not only be equal to such an undertaking, but
that without their co-operation no such undertaking can be
understandingly executed.
Some persons, eminent for their intelligence, have occasionally hazarded the assertion, that there is no force in constitutions on paper, and that we should be as well without them.
Admitting that it is fair thus to withdraw the mind from the
all-important consideration, that a constitution which is the
work of the popular mind, marks an entirely new era in the
history of society; no opinion can well be conceived, which is
more completely behind the age in which we live.
The reasoning which has been relied upon to sustain this
strange assertion, would be equally conclusive to prove that
there is no force in written laws. And yet it is plain that
without written laws, society would be a scene of discord and
confiusion. The occasional violation of a constitution would
not even help to prove the assertion. The laws are repeatedly violated, and yet no one lays his head upon his pillow
without feeling a wonderful sense of security under their protection. Even the English'" magna charta," an instrument
far less comprehensive in its scope, and possessing therefore
much fewer guaranties, than an American constitution, was
repeatedly violated, but it constituted a landmark amid all
the troubles of the day, and the English monarchs were compelled to ratify and re-ratify it, until it acquired a weight and
authority which no one was strong enough to throw off.
The precise and definite form which writing gives to our
ideas, renders it an indispensable auxiliary in reducing those
ideas to practice, and in spreading their influence over an extensive country. If instances are to be found where commu



CHAr. I          OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               203
nities have been governed with considerable wisdom, without
written constitutions, this is either because there has been
some approach to one, some resemblance to an instrument,
which, however imperfect, has acquired the sanction of successive generations of men, or such communities have lived in
close fellowship, have been bound in an intimate reliance with
others, which had written constitutions, and were moreover
obliged by the league of which they were members, to owe
allegiance to a federal constitution. The first is the case of
England, the second that of Connecticut and Rhode Island.
But all three of these examples prove that there is great force
in written constitutions.
A written constitution is a repository of tried and experienced truths, with an authoritative sanction accompanying it,
capable of being appealed to in all times of party confiict,
when the minds of men are tormented by the danger of civil
commotion, and when every means which is calculated to fix
reflection, and to steady the public mind, is of so much importance to the peace of society.
In every department of life, it has been found that the collection of human experience and wisdom into some visible
organ capable of making a sensible and durable impression on
the mind, was the only way to give a fixed and permanent
direction to the actions of men. It cannot be otherwise then
with civil government, where the body of rules which are
adopted has this additional advantage, that it is the result of
a deliberate compact between the members of the community.
It would be much more reasonable to assert, that there was no
utility in system of religious doctrines, or a system of education, in a code of jurisprudence, or in the rules which are
adopted for the army and navy, than to affirm that there is no
force in a body of fundamental ordinances for the government
of the state.
We may pronounce of a country, in which a written constitution has been framed by delegates chosen by' the people,
that it is from that very circumstance placed entirely beyond
the reach of monarchical or aristocratical institutions. A
change in the structure of society, so thorough and so decisive, is absolutely incompatible with the existence of either
of those forms of government.  But this change may take




204             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK IT.
place, although the great body of the people are not advanced
to the highest pitch of intelligence, or to anything like an
equal degree of intelligence. The system of common schools
has existed in New England for more than two hundred years;
and yet great inequalities still exist, and will forever exist, in
the capacities of the men who inhabit it. But as there is a
certain limit, beyond which knowledge must not advance, in
order to insure the existence of any one of the artificial forms
of government; so there is also a limit beyond which knwoledge need not advance, in order to insure the establishment
of free institutions.
Those rules which govern the interests of large collections
of men, are never so recondite as those which are obtained
by the study of the individual alone. And if we examine the
history of any of the great revolutions which have changed
the condition and destiny of the human race, it will be found
that the leading ideas-those which presided over the whole
movement-were the simplest imaginable.  Let us take, for
an example, the Protestant reformation. The principles with
which the great reformer set out,, and which were his constant
weapon from the commencement to the close of the controversy, were so plain, so homely, so easy to be inderstood and
handled by the unlettered man, that men of refined learning
were puzzled to find out, how it was possible to create so
great and so general a movement through the instrumentality
of such trifling propositions. The public debates which took
place throughout Germany seemed to turn upon mere truisms
and puerilities. And yet these apparent puerilities could not
be battered down by the greatest amount of learning which
was brought to bear upon them.
It is the same with all the important and salutary revolutions which take place in civil society. The governing ideas
are few and easily comprehended, because they contain general truths; and the truths are general because they have
reference to the interests of large collections of men. A
highly intelligent man, who had been a member of the American legislature, remarked to me, that "he must give up all
his notions as to the incompetency of farmers to legislate for
the community. They have both more sagacity and more
information than I had at all calculated upon."




CHAP. I.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               205
The establishment of constitutional governmeut in the
United States has given a decided impulse to the public mind
in Europe.  Ten or twelve of the Europenn states have
adopted written constitutions. Buat none of them rest upon
the same firm foundation as in America. A written constitution, emanating from the popular will, while the government
was monarchical or aristocratical in character, would be a
solecism in politics. Neither of those governments could possibly survive the establishment of such an instrument. If
not immediately annihilated, they must speedily fall to decay.
Men, whatever their physical strength may be, must at least
have a fit atmosphere to breathe in. So that we must either
say that the diffusion of knowledge is incompatible with the
solid interests of mankind, or that monarchy and aristocracy
are-incompatible with the existence of constitutional government in its legitimate sense. There cannot be two incunsistent rules, at one and the same time, for the government of a
community; the one founded upon the general interests, the
other upon some particular interests only. One or the other
must give way; and it is easy to see which will ultimately
have the advantage, amid the general spread of knowledge
which we witness in the nineteenth century. Where resides
the moral power of the community, there also will be found
to reside its physical power. The maxim, that power is constantly sliding from the many to the few, is false in a republic. The tendency is directly the reverse. The maxim is true
only where the political institutions are unfavorable to the development and spread of knowledge, and where every contrivance has been employed to render the affairs of government complicated and mysterious in the extreme, and so to
impress the popular mind with a conviction, not only that it
has no right, but that it has no sort of ability, to bear any
part in them.
But however imperfect the European constitutions may be,
they are a great step toward the establishment of regular
government. No event which has occurred in that quarter of
the globe affords more signal evidence of the general advance
of society. A written constitution never adds to, but always
substracts from, the power which previously existed.. It is
not only an open recognition of certain general principles fa



206             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOIK II.
vorable to liberty, but it is obliged to make a definite application of these principles. What was obtained when the cornmunity was struggling for freedom, can with difficulty be recalled when it has arrived at greater maturity. For a written
constitution, together with the body of new laws which it
gives occasion to, acts directly upon the manners, diffuses
more inquisitiveness and information, and inspires all classes
with a greater degree of self-confidence. The ability to guard
the institutions is derived from the infinence which the institutions have themselves created. There may be still more
progress, but there will rarely ever be a retrogade movement.
The French "charte " is the most remarkable of the European constitutions. It was wrested from the king. And this
indicates, at least, that knowledge andl liberty have acquired
sufficient strength to make a vigorous protest against the
unlimited authority of kings. The leading men in the kingdomn were obliged to fall in with this movement, in order to
sustain their own influence, but they have contributed, however unwillingly, to strengthen the popular will. The " tiers
etat," a name which once startled the ear, has become a body
of acknowledged importance in the state.
The European governments had all grown by piecemeal.
The fragments of which they consisted were put together as
force or accident determined. Not representing the public
will, the people were at a loss to discover the title which their
rulers arrogated to themselves. There was no way of solving the difficulty but by having recourse to an authority from
above. Hence the doctrine of "jure divino" right of kings
to rule. The minds of men were then filled with all sorts of
superstition, and the prince, whose priviliges flow from so
exalted a source, seems alone entitled to place a construction
upon them. Elizabeth told the English Commons that they
must not (lare to meddle with state affairs; and Charles XII.,
of Swedeln, told the senate that he would send his boot to
govern them.  Constitutional government has effected the
same resolution in politics, which the progress of physical
science has produced in religion. Both have banished superstitiol; the one from the domain of government, the other
that of religion. The human mind can no more get back to




CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               207
the notion of the divine right of kings, than it can get back
to fetichism and idolatry.
A. popular constitution is necessarily a restraint upon the majority, so that that form of government which it has been supposed would be most exposed to the inroads of licentiousness,
is the one which is most strongly secured against them. For
as a written constitution is obliged to contain an exact distribution of the powers of the various departments, the persons who fill those places cannot separate themselves from
the rule which created them, and say, because they are temporarily and for certain purposes the majority, that therefore
they are the majority for all purposes and for all time to
come. Do as we will, the moment we establish a popular constit;ution, we are compelled to afford a substantial security to
the minority against the majority. It could not be at popular
constitution, unless it contained provisions for securing the
rights of all classes, without reference to the fact whether
either shall afterward fall into the party of the majority, or
into that of the minority. And although it is plain that it
is physically possible to overleap the bounds set up by the
constitution, yet so firm is the hold which this solemn covenant has upon the minds of every one, that the most ambitious and unprincipled men recoil from the attempt. When
this has become the settled habit of thinking among the people, their feelings and imagination come in aid of their convictions of right.  The constitution becomes a memorable
record; and the fancy clothes it with additional solemnity.
If the altar and the throne became objects of veneration in
monarchical government, the altar and the constitution become objects of equal veneration in a republic. In those rare
instances, when attempts have bean made by the state legislatures in America to violate their constitutions, there has
been a redeeming virtue among the people, which has either
compelledl the majority to retrace their steps, or, by converting the minority into the majority, has brought the constitution back to its pristine spirit.
It there were no such instrument, parties would do very
much what the exigencies of the moment dictated. For how
would it be possible to argue upon the constitutionality of
any measure, when there was no constitution in existence. The




208             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
alarm  may be given of a contemplated violation of some
fundamental right; but how can the people be made to understand this?-   A written constitution affords the only plain
test. Some of its provisions may be the subject of dispute,
but in the great majority of instances, it will be a clear and
most important guide in judging the actions of all the public
functionaries.
The express, and the implied powers in a written constitution, are sometimes identical. This is a distinction which
deserves great consideration, for from it very important consequences follow.  The express powers are identical with
the implied, whenever the former would be unmeaning and
inoperative, unless laws were subsequently passed to carry
them into effect. Without the aid of these laws, which are
referred to the head of implied powers, the express powers
would be a nullity. This is evident from the 8th section of
the 1st article of the constitution of the United States. All
the powers therein delegated to the legislature are express
powers, and yet not one can be exercised without passilg
laws. It is different with regard to the powers which are
conferred upon the executive. These, for the mo t part, may
be executed without the intervention of any laws. This is
evident from the 2d and 3d sections of the 2d article. Some,
perhaps all, the powers there enumerated, may be modified
by the legislature. For instance, the power of removal from
office may be forbidden under certain conditions; but they
are all substantially exercisable, without any acts of legislation. This is the case, also, with the powers conferred upon
the judiciary.  Some of these powers also may be modified
by the legislature, while the most important part of them execute themselves, and render it unnecessary to resort to any
implied powers. This important difference between the legislative, and the other two departments, contributes greatly to
enlarge the powers of the former, as the field within which
the implied powers may be exercised is never precisely determined.  On the other hand, there is this compensation for
reducing to the character of implied powers all those which
are wielded by the legislature, that thoQe which are possessed
by the executive and judiciary, being complete without the
intervention of any laws, these two departments are protected




CHAP. I.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  209
against the assaults of the legislature. If, then, it were possible to reduce to the character of express powers, all those
which are conferred upon the legislative, in analogy with
those conferred upon the executive and judiciary, a very important step would be made towards improving the whole
structure of government.  That this may be effected to a
great extent, cannot be doubted.  A very important movement has been lately made in this direction by some of the
American States. It has no objection that it will render constitutions a little more voluminous. A constitution is faulty,
when, by going into detail, its provisions are ambiguous. But
when the opposite effect, that of greater clearness and precision, is attained, the objection loses its force. If in the federal government, the powers which appertain to the legislature are all of the character of implied powers, this is true,
in a still higher sense, in the constitutions of the States. The
former does contain an enumeration of the powers which are
proper to be exercised by the legislature, although none can
be exercised without the aid of the implied powers. But the
State constitutions generally, do not even contain this enumeration. They simply create the legislative power, and then
leave it free to act as the public exigencies arid its own discretion may dictate. The reason of the distinction is obvious.
The federal constitution is one of strictly limited powers
limited not merely in respect to the constitution making
power, but as regards the state governments. It was necessary, therefore, to make a specification in gross of its powers,
in order to separate them  from those of the states. But these
are powerful reasons, as Ishall presently show, why a state
constitution should be as well guarded in this particular, as
the constitution of the Union.
Otie use of the veto of the executive is to protect him against
the usurpfttions of the legislature, but another and still higher
use is to protect the community against those usurpations.
One reason why the executive, although a single individual,
may suc'ceed in the exercise of this power, is that he is armed
with all extensive patromage. This clothes him with great authority, amld enables binm, when he acts with fidelity, to rally
the sunid part of the co.nmmuuity. One reason why the veto
is genera.lly dropped in the state constitutions, is that it is im14




210               NATURE AND TENDENCY                 [BOOL II.
possible, even if it were consistent with the genius of free institutions, to create an executive with very extensive patronage: another is, that the states are not so extensive as to foster powerful local interest. Thus, the necessity of the veto is
accompanied with a corresponding necessity of strengthening
the magistrate who exercises it; and on the other hand, in
proportion to its inutility, is the difficulty of rendering it authoritative.
It may be supposed that in an extensive country like the
United States, executive patronage would be so great as to
enable the chief magistrate to exercise the veto improperly.
Doubtless, this will sometimes be the case. In every human
institution we always make allowance for occasional aberrations, as we do in the most perfect machinery.  But there is
an antidote to the evil.'Where universal suffrage is established, the amount of patronage, though great as regards the
executive, is very small when compared with the number of
the electors.
In a limited monarchy, the absolute veto is conferred upon
the king, in order to protect him against the usurp(ations of
the legislature, which represents the sovereignty; in other
words, he is himself made a branch of the legislativee power;
for to give him the absolute veto, is to confer upon him legislative power.  In a republic, the written constitution guards
him  against those encroachments, for his powers are clearly
definaed. But if the powers of the legislature are all of the
nature of itnplied powers, which cannot be define(d, it tnay
be necessary to invest him with the qnalified veto, the dan
ger of usurpation not being so great as wlhere there is no
enumeration of either the express or imlrlied pow\ers. This
would seem  to afford an argument for givimu the vet(o to
the governor of a sta!te; for as I have ob)served, the list of
implied p)owers in a state governmenlt is vastly more extensive
than in the fedetral, tand the danger of entcro,  ul.menxts on t*he
communlity is as great, although there nmay be little d(laner of
invading the preroogatives of the gov(erj.or. Thlre are, however, two ways of pr'.:tecting society againlst the u urpaimions
of the legislature.  O)le in the manner   hav:lce ju.st, i!ei(cated,
the other by ci curmsirit)ing the autl'ority o(f' the lergi.l:it lnre,
that is, by insert:ng limitations in the state  eo:mstirtu.tiols, on




CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 211
the exercise of every power which is intended to be withheld
from the legislature, and express grants of every one which is
intended to be exercised. There is a marked tendency in this
direction in the state constitutions which have lately been
framed. The prohibition of contracting a public debt, unless
authorized by vote of the people, first inserted in the constitutions of Rhode Island and Iowa, and since in those of
New York and Ohio; the provision that special charters shall
not be granted; that the legislature shall not authorize the
suspension of specie payments; that the stockholders in a
corporation shall be individually responsible, contained in the
8th article of the constitution of New York, and the whole of
the 14th section of the 7th article of the same constitution, are
remarkable examples. Of the same character are the 4th, 5th,
15th and 16th sections of the 3d article, and the 4th and 11th
sections of the 6th article, and most of the provisions in the
bill of rights, or 51st article. Indeed, it is remarkable that
until recently the restrictions upon the legislative power, for
the most part, have been carefully placed in the bill of rights.
The great importance of controlling the department by express limitations, did not command public attention. Notwithstanding, however, that the constitution of New York has
so far exceeded any other in the precision and comprehensiveness of its restrictions upon the legislature, the veto of the governoris retained. It will probably be retained until exl-ertitmlent
has ascertained all the cases in which exact limitations may
be imposed. When these are exhausted-when all the implied
powers are converted into express powers, it may be dropped.
It would seem then, that the veto is only conferred upon the
executive, in consequence of the imperfect character of the
limitations imposed upon the legislature. If society can be
protected against the predominance of local interests, against
the improper exercise of implied powers by express limitations, these will be much more efficacious than the veto.
Even in the federal government, what an amount of mischief
may have been averted, if precise provisions in relation to a
bank, to the tariff, to internal improvements, &c., had been
inserted. Nothing but experience could disclose where the
weak points of the system lay. But the difficulty of availirng
ourselves of this experience in the federal government, is in



212             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II.
finitely greater than in those of the states; It is exceedingly
difficult to obtain amendments in the former. The veto will
therefore be retained there, after it ceases to be employed in
the latter.
An immense advantage will arise from this scheme of strict
limitations, independently of its dispensing with the veto. It
will, to a great extent, close the door upon party dissensions.
If any one reflects upon the various questions which have agitated the people of the states, and kindled so fierce a spirit of
party, he will find that they are nearly all attributable to the
defect of the state or of the federal constitution, in defining
the attributes of the legislature. If a state constitution merely
creates this department, and is almost entirely silent as to its
powers, the door is imrmediately opened to the most unbounded
discussion, as to the propriety of various acts of legislation.
If the federal constitution does contain an enumeration of its
powers, and this is wanting in the requisite precision, an endless controversy is kept up, not merely as to the expediency,
but as to the constitutionality of various laws. A few words
in the one case, a few lines in the other, would have prevented
the mischief.
It would appear then, that so far from its being true, that
constitutions are sacred, and should never be touched; that
they partake of the character of all human institutions, and
should be open to amendment. It is not in the power of the
finest genius to draw up a constitution which shall be perfect
at the time; much less, which shall be so in all time to come.
Time and experience are indispensable to develop the true
character of the powers which are marked out, and to reveal
the secret flaws which have prevented the exact working of
the system. England was convulsed with civil wars, or ruled
with a rod of iron, until the revolution of 1788, when some
precise limitations were imposed upon the power of government. And yet these limitations do not contain as much as
is contained in the bill of rights of some of the American
states. So far is it from being true, that written constitutions
are of no avail, that the British constitution derives all its
efficacy, all its healthful activity, from those written provisions
which were made about the time of the revolution. It may be
said, that that nation is not yet prepared for an entirely writ



CHAP. I. ]          FREE INSTITUTIONS.               213
ten constitution. But given the fact, that a nation is thus
prepared, and then, the more exact and the more comprehensive are its provisions in relation to the legislative power, the
more securely will the bulwarks of liberty be guarded.
A constitution is open to alteration by the same power
which enacted it. The sovereign authority residing in the
people is necessarily inalienable. It cannot be extinguished,
because there is no human power superior to itself to have
that effect. To assert that a constitution is of so sacred a
character, that it can never again be touched, would be to return to the European notions of government. A constitution,
however, may provide in what way alterations shall be made;
so as to get rid on the one hand of the difficulty which would
arise from one generation attempting to bind all others; and
at the same time, to secure that the future generation which
does make alterations shall be the people themselves, and not
their rulers.
All the American constitutions contain provisions of this
kind. But as it rarely happens that a constitution will require
to be entirely remodeled, a way is provided by which particular amendments maw be made, without the necessity of assembling a convention. In some states the proposed change must
be deliberated upon, and agreed to by two-thirds of two successive legislatures, in others it is after a vote of two-thirds of
two successive legislatures, submitted to the people at their
annual elections. In Pennsylvania a majority of two successive legislatures is sufficient for this purpose. All these
plans are substantially alike. By the first, it is the legislature
which makes the alteration.  But the members have been
chosen by the people, with a direct view to the question of
change or no change. In Ohio, Vermont, and New Hampshire, alterations can only be made by a convention, which in
the former must be authorized by a vote of two-thirds of the
legislature, in the second by a vote of two-thirds of a council
of censors. But this vote cannot be taken oftener than once
in seven years. And in New Hampshire the votes of the people are taken every seven years, by the selectmen, and assessors, as to the expediency of calling a convention.
The design of all these plans is to secure that alterations
shall be made in so solemn and deliberate a manner, that




214              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOO II.
there shall be no question but what they have emanated from
the people.
In France it is a, settled maxim that " the charte" can never
be altered: that there is no power whatever competent to
touch it. This seems to savor strongly of the school of Sir
Robert Filmer. But in reality, it is a disguised departure
from the doctrines of that school. " The charte " has shaken
the power of the king and nobibility. The danger of alteration, therefore, arises from that quarter. The notion of its
inviolability is a check upon them; but it is not a check. when
popular sentiment calls loudly for some additional safeguard
to liberty. Thus, the charte was remodeled in 1830, when
provisions of vital importance to Frenchmen were inserted.
In Great Britain the maxim is that parliament is the sovereign power. But I imagine that no parliament would dare to
meddle with any of those fundamental enactments which secure English liberty. In 1689 it was deemed fit that " the
convention," which seated William on the throne, and passed
the celebrated "act of settlement," should be composed of
the members who had sat in the two preceding parliaments.
Government, like every other human interest, is the subject
of experience, and therefore capable of improvement. We are
bound, therefore, in devising a system of civil policy, to avail
ourselves of the same helps and resources which give strength
and security to every other institution.
Society is not resolved into its original elements, by the call
of a convention to alter the constitution. There is no instant
of time, in the transition from the old to the new state of
things, when there is not a subsisting government. Until a
new constitution is ordained, the citizens are bound by the
old. But a strange imagination exists among some persons,
that whatever the people have power to do, they have also the
right to do. It is not that such persons are at all friendly to
the exercise of licentious power; but they can see no way of
separating right and power, where there is no positive or
organized authority, to limit and control the last. First,
then, a distinction must be made between the power of voting and the power of executing. A convention might declare
all existing marriages null, bastardize the children, confiscate
the property of every one at death, authorize theft and mur



CHAP..]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                215
der, etc.; but it is plain, that it would not have power to carry
these ordinances into effect. This distinction between the
power of declaring and the power of executing, has been
repeatedly illustrated in the history of all the European governments, even those which have possessed the most solidly
established authority. The English parliament, armed with
all the powers of a convention, was not able, in the reign of
Mary, to exterminate the Protestants: it was not able in the
succeeding reign, to abolish either the Catholic or Puritan
religion. The French monarchs, prior and subsequent to the
time of Henry the Great, although they employed every instrument, both physical and moral, were unable to exterminate the Huguenots. That sect survived every effort to subdue them, and are now a powerful and influential body in the
kingdom. No monarch ever possessed more absolute authority than Charles V., and Philip IL. of Spain; yet they were
unable to execute their edicts among the people of' the low
countries. This people annulled their edicts, and became sovereign themselves.
Second. A constitutional convention has not the right to
do everything which it has the power to do. Individuals
every day have the opportunity to kill others, but they have
not the right to do so. That an individual rmay be punished,
and that a nation, or the majority, is dispunishable, makes no
difference; for it will be conceded, that if there were no means
of punishing an individual, as there frequently are not, his
guilt would be precisely the same, and his right without the
shadow of foundation. There is no possible way, therefore,
by which we can make right and power convertible terms. It
is in vain to say, that these are extreme cases, and therefore
prove nothing; for they do, indeed, prove everything which
is proper to be proved. They destroy the notion of universality, as a part of the rule; and they, therefore, destroy the
rule itself. They may also prove, that the same principles
which falsify the rule in some particulars, operate throughout
the whole system of legislation, and may be calculated upon
with precision. But it may be said, that there are many questions, about which there is no such general opinion of right
and justice, as to render the enactments of a convention at all
uniform; that this opens the door to a certain latitude of




216             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
iudgment, and that within this debatable field, it is free to declare what is right, and has power to enforce its decrees.
This is admitted: there must be many questions, about which
a difference of opinion will prevail, among persons of equal
integrity and capacity. It is, however, a great boon gained
to society, when all those questions, which are not debatable
in foro conscientice, are withdrawn from the fieldl of controversy. This happens more certainly in a society democratically constituted than in any other. It is a fine observation of
Mr. Hume, that events which depend upon the will of a great
number, may be calculated upon with much more certainty
than those which depend upon the will of a single individual,
or of a small number of persons. Events which are dependent upon a great number, are governed by general laws, laws
which are common to the species: those which depend upon
one, or a small number, are subjected to the caprice, or momentary disposition of the individual. The reason, then, why
the advantage I have indicated appertains to a society democratically constituted, is that the will of a great number, and
upon that great number public events then depend, is consulted. No one has ever heard of a provision in any American
constitution or law, which did violence to any of the fandamental rules of morality. Individulals may be guilty of a violation of them constantly; and, therefore, while we place no
confidence in any calculation we may make as to what they
will do, we may rely with great certainty upon a calulation,
as to the conduct of a very large body of men. But; when I
speak of a society which is democratically constituted, I do
not intend merely a society which has democratic institutions; it Imay have them to-day, and lose them to-morrow. I
intend a society in which not only the political, but the social
organization is so adlvanced, as to render free institutions the
natural expression of the national will. In such a community,
the greater the number whose opinions are taken, the greater
the probability that those opinions will be reduced to unity;
in other words, that the incoherent views which are entertained by some, will be swallowed up in the opinions of a
great number. For to say that they are incoherent, is to say
that they do not reflect the opinions which are common to the
whole.




CHAP. II. ]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              217
CHAPTER II.
THAT IN A REPUBLIC, THE GOVERNORS AND THE GOVERNED
ARE IDENTICAL, AND.DIFFERENT.
SOME persons find exceeding difficulty in comprehending
how the people who govern should be one and the same with
the people who are governed. The simplest and the most general notion which we ever form of government, is that it is an
institution established to preside over society, to maintain the
supremacy of the laws, and to resist all efforts from wvithout,
to shake and undermine its influence. To accomplish this, it
would seem to be necessary that government should possess
an independent authority; that it should be armed with a
power which could not be wrested from it, at the very time it
was most important to employ it. Self-government, or a democratic republic, which presupposes that the governors and
the governed are one and the same, appears then to be a solecism in politics. It seems to contain an inherent principle of
decay, and on that account to be the least eligible form of
government which can be adopted. The notions which we
frame to ourselves on all subjects, but especially on politics,
are so much determined by the forms of thought which have
previously existed, that it is always a work of difficulty to
break up old associations, and to persuade the mind, that any
remarkable change in the institutions of society can be easily
accomplished, much less, that it would be both safe and advantaigeous.
The actual operation of popular government relieves us
from the difficulty which has been suggested., For there,
parties in the majority and minority immediately rise up.
And as the former is entitled by right and by necessity to the
supremacy, an example is afforded at the outset, of a presiding power in the state which is distinct from that of the
whole of society. Thus, if a small number-of persons, when
compared with the entire population, are disposed to be vi



218             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOI II.
cious, and to violate the private rights of any individual, inasmuch as the administration of the laws is deposited with a
much larger number, a check upon the conduct of the former
is created, which operates with certainty, in ninety-nine cases
in a hundred. And if we suppose, that a still greater proportion-a proportion which constituted nearly or even quite a
majority-were so inclined; still, if the distribution of property is such, that the major part of the citizens have some
allotment, some stake in the hedge: their interests will outweigh the propensity to commit mischief; and the sense of
interest, combining with the operation of the laws, after civil
government is fairly established, redoubles its authority, and
in the course of no very long time, beguiles the understandings of all men-the educated, and the illiterate, the honest,
and the depraved-into the belief that there is indeed an inherent power residing in the government, which can in no way
be confounded with the local and discordant opinions which
prevail without.
Nor, even if the unanimous consent of the people were admitted to be necessary to the first institution of government,
would there be any great difficulty in obtaining it. Even the
most abandoned men shrink from a public exposure of their
hearts. Nor are crimes ever committed from  habitual disposition, but from sudden impulte, or powerful temptation, which
cannot well exist at the time when a popular convention is
deliberating upon the form  of government which shall be
established. Nor, if it were otherwise, would it alter the case,
since the worst men are as deeply interested in the maintenance of the general body of laws, as are the best. They
would not be able to commit any crime, unless their own lives
were protected up to a certain point. Their persons would
not be safe, as soon as they discovered a disposition to commit violence upon others. This is the reason why what is
vulgarly termed'" lynch law," is so abhorrent to offenders, as
well as to all lovers of law and order. Once established as a
rule, and the mere suspicion that a crime was committed, or
about to be committed, would lead to summary punishment;
while the penalty inflicted, might be out of all proportion to
the character of the offense. 16 Give me a fair trial," said a




CHAP. II. ]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               219
miserable creature, whom I once knew summarily dealt with.
"If I have broken the laws, I am entitled to justice."
Instances have. come under my observation, where individuals who freely voted for the establishment of a constitution, afterward rendered themselves amenable to the laws,
which were passed in conformity with that constitution. And
I recollect two instances of individuals, members of a legislative body, who assisted in the enactment of laws, which punished forgery and perjury with great severity, and each of
whom was afterward the victim of one of those laws. Few
men assist in passing sentence upon themselves. But all men
are, some how or other, irresistibly impelled to create the
tribunal Which is destined to punish them, if they are guilty.
So far, we have considered government chiefly in its simplest form: the government of the people in person. But it
is not practicable to conduct the affairs of a large state in this
way. Almost all the ancient commonwealths were of small
size. The Grecian states were none of them larger than an
American county. Attica, the most famous, was of no greater
extent than IRoss county, in Ohio. Indeed, city and state
were synonymous terms with the Grecian lawyers. By the
government of a state, they intended the government of a
city.  Even in the Roman commonwealth, the governing
power was for a long time, in theory, and almost always in
practice, confined to the walls of the city.
But when the elective principle is introduced, the machinery
of the government becomes more complicated. Those administrative officers, who were before appointed by the people, are
invested with additional authority. And the legislative body
becomes at once the most important and the most imposing
of all the institutions of government.
There is no good reason why a popular constitution should
not be established in a simple democracy, as well as in a representative government. In both, the minority require to be
protected against the majority. But the idea of a written
constitution does not readily suggest itself, unless the state is
sufficiently large to occasion the introduction of the elective
principle into general practice. The fundamental ordinances
of the ancient law-givers were of a totally different character,
not merely in their origin, but in their purport, from the




220             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
American constitution. They were like the ordinary acts of
legislation, which are intended to restrain the people; whereas, one great design of a constitution is to restrain the government.
The adoption of such an instrument, then, may appear to
be a source of weakness, but in reality it is a source of great
strength to the government. The individual whose conduct
is marked by most propriety, no matter whether from internal
or external motives, acquires most power in the circle within
which he moves. And a representative government, which
moves within the ample but well defined jurisdiction marked
out for it, acquires unspeakable influence from that circumstance. And although the original intention, in framing a
written constitution, was to supply the grand defect which
existed in all preceding governments, to wit, the absence of a
control upon the governors, yet it operates with equal efficacy
in restraining the rest of society. The existence of such an
instrument, then, is another addition to the apparatus of the
government, giving it an air of greater solemnity, investing
its proceedings with a more regular and decisive authority,
and thus contributing practically to separate, in the minds of
every one, two ideas which are at bottom the same, to wit, the
idea of the people as governors, and of the people who are
governed.
Various reasons have been assigned for the division of the
legislature into two branches. The plan appears to have been
unknown among the republics of antiquity.  Where two
chambers did exist, one possessed powers of a different character from those of the other, and therefore the co-operation
of the two was not necessary; or else, one acted as a deliberative body merely, with at the utmost the power of initiating
measures, while the others possessed the legislative power
proper. Feudal institutions, which gave rise to a baronial
nobility, seated by the side of growing and powerful cities,
introduced the scheme as it exists in modern states. The
population of the towns was of too much importance to be
overlooked, while at the same time, the barons were too
haughty and jealous to permit the representatives of those
towns to have seats among themselves. The legislative body
therefore became separated into two bodies, occupying at first




CHAP. II.        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                221
the same hall, but afterward sitting in two, when the practice
of public debate took the place of the private conferences, and
rendered it impossible to conduct the proceedings at different
eads of even a large apartment. And, although the reason
for this arrangement has ceased to exist, the institution is still
preserved. Perhaps we may be able to assign to it all office
distinct from that which has been ascribed to it, and say that,
although it has the appearance of being more out of place in
a democratic republic, where the subordination of ranks does
not exist, than in any other form of government; yet, inasmuch as two chambers render the machinery of legislation
more complex than one alone, and communicate to the government a more imposing character than it would otherwise
wear, this division of the legislative body may assist, although
indirectly, in upholding the public authority, and in maintaining order and tranquility throughout the state. It is no objection to an institution that it exercises an influence over the
imaginations of men, provided this influence does not interfere with the useful and legitimate purposes which were designed to be answered, but on the contrary, contributes to
carry them out more fully.
A regular system of jurisprudence would appear to be as
essential to a people living under the simplest form of popular
government, as for any other community. The eterrnal principles of justice are not of man's creation; and they ha.ve on
that account an authority which no man is at liberty to deny
or disparage. A code of jurisprudence is nothing mlore than
an exposition of those principles, so far as they app1ly to the
affairs of society. But the exi tence of such an ilnsirument
is hardly known until after the state has passed from the simplest form of democratic rule, and has assumed the clLaracter
of a representative government. The people, when sitting in
judgment personally, cannot with any convenience mat-ke application of those principles of law requiring, as thly do(, the
most concentrated attention, and the exercise of an undisturbed judgment. Iudeei', such principles have the apIpearauce of being out of place, where the form  of goverlnent
presupposes that there is no superior authority belhind the
judicial magistrates. We hear of the Roman or civil law.
But no one has ever heard of Grecian law. The organization




222               NATURE AND TENDENCY                  [BOOK II.
of the Grecian tribunal was exceedingly unfavorable to the
growth of a regular system of civil jurisprudence.  The principal court was composed of six or eight thousand people;
and the decisions of such a tribunal must necessarily be vague
and conjeetural.  Nor did  Roman law  make any progress
until the judicial power passed from the popular assemblies
of the comitia, and became exclusively vested in the representative magistrates termed pritors.  It is not until the
reign of Adrian, in the commencement of the second century,
that jurisprudence began to wear the character of a regular
system, such as it is known at the present day. The division
of labor was then consummated.  The judicial power was
lodged with certain magistrates, set apart for that purpose,
who were obliged to act upon some fixed, general rules. Arnd
the collection of those rules into a body constitutes in great
part.the foundation of the civil law. In the time of the emperors the prTtors were not an elective magistracy: but the
special character of the duties they were assigned to perform,
after a, beginning had been made, was far more favorable to
the growth of a regular system than the tumultuous meetings
of the comitia.  In addition to which an absolute government
in a hignily civilized country, is very willing to purchase an
unlimnit-d political authority, by establishing exact rules of
justice in) what concerns the civil relations of men.  If it
were not fir some prinrciple of virtual representation at least,
neither law nor civilization would ever make any progress.
But whallet the appointing iower (ffects is accomplished still
more fally ty the elective power.  In no country in the world
has jtiistnd!lence acquired a more regular and systematic
chara -cer. tlhan in the Ulnited States.  The perfection which it
has alttailect constitutes its only olbjection.  All the leading
pril(iJ;lJs on which it reposes have been so tlhoroughly ramified, a51(  renldered so flexille with the prefessi:,onal man, in
their' -.tpl1itCa ion to new cases, that the science no longer presents sthe sooiie attraction as formerly to mills of a highly intel.i-et l n:, cc';tC.  We Imny say of the law what hads been said of
maha(r.l bii., that it Las become an exhausted science. But
thin rvcgI.u>i:.r growth of' a. body of  laws, With apt)ropriate tribu'Ils au i n  m",agistrates to a(lnintister it, the naturall result of
the,ti_ wtiu!.CiLo n of representative government, has a wonder



CHAP. II.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 223
ful effect in giving to the institutions an appearance of complexity, and in surrounding them with an air of authority,
which only contributes to carry out the design for which they
were originally created.'These institutions are the workmanshil) of the people. And yet between the people and the government is interposed a vast and complicated machinery, (fficult to break through, and which inculcates and enforces
among the whole population, the notions of right, of obligation, cf justice, more effectually than the decrees of the most
absolute government could do.
The extent of country over which the government', presides,
assists in keeping up the delusion, in persuading peolle, that
there is an authority residing in the government totally independent of the popular will: if that can be called a delusion,
which has its origin in the most settled principles of human
nature, and which only contributes to highten the reverence
for the laws, and to maintain order and tranquillity throughout the land.
Even where the territory is only of tolerable extent, governmenit is called upon to act, through the medium of a host
of functionaries, in a great nunber of particular instances.
And, this acting in detail repeatedly, and on such an intinity
of occasions, without any perceptible interference from without, separates the notion of governmental authority ifromn that
of the popular will, augments the authority of the fotrmer, and
enables it to exercise an easy empire over the minds of men.
And yet it possesses this influence, only in consequence of
being founded upon the popular will, and on the condition of
making itself eminently useful to society.
When men are called upon to act openly in face of the
wodi(t, their actions are naturally more guarded and circumspect, than where they are free from so wholesome a control.
This is the case even though the sense of right should tbe supposed to be no stronger than on other occasions. For when
they come to deliberate in public, each one finds that the interests of others have an intimat- relatlon,ith his own; and
that, do as he will, their opinions will entitle themselves to
equal conlsideration with his. This is the case in the,simplest
form of democratic government., where all the citizens meet
together to consult upon public affairs. But the effect is in



224             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II.
creased where the elective form of government is established.
In the first instance, the whole population constitute the public. The actors and the spectators, the delinquents and the
judges, are indiscriminately mixed. The restraint therefore is
not complete. Hence the tumultuous assemblies in the Grecian republics. In the second case, the legislature, executive,
and judges, together with the whole body of administrative
officers, constitute at any one time only a fraction of the population. The government and the public are separated from
each other, in order that the last may bear with greater weight,
and a more defined authority, upon the first. The keenness
of the observers is hightened, and the conduct of the actors is
more circumspect. Those who are invested with public trusts
of any kind, find that they are no longer able to bury their
motives and disguise their actions amid a vast and hetrogeneous assembly. The circumstances in which they are placed
rouse a feeling of responsibility to other men; and this in
its turn, awakens reflection, and a sense of justice. But, the
circumstances in which men are placed, constitute a very large
part of their education through life. And this sense of justice,
and this habit of reflection, although originally induced by
external causes, may in progress of time become very important springs of action. If all those public functionaries were
accustomed to act as simple members of an immense assemnbly, called together on the spur of the occasion, they would be
carried away by every temporary delusion; and their actions
would seem in their own eyes worthy of condemnation, only
when it was too late to correct them.
This is the reason why what we term  public opinion acquires so much force, and wears so imposing an authority, in
representative government. That portion of the population
which gives being to it, is far more numerous, the public much
more extensive, than in anlly other form of government; while
at the same time, the public officers of every grade stand
apart and distinct from that public, and are therefore subjected to a constant and active supervision from without; and,
if the separation of the two has the effect of Lightening the
sense of responsibilty, and increasing the capacity for reflection in the former, it has the same influence upon the people.
These are also placed in new circumstances, which are emi



CHAP. II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                225
nently calculated to promote thought and inquiry. And although the persons who fill the three great departments of the
government, and all the administrative officers, are but the
agents of the people; yet this people now view the conduct of
the former from a point different from that at which they view
their own. They expect and demand better things than they
would from themselves. And the constant working of this
principle, in spite of all the tendencies to licentiousness of
opinion, ultimately communicates, to both the public and the
government, more calmness and moderation, and a disposition
to view things not merely as they are, but as they should be.
It frequently happens, that on the proposal of an important
public measure, popular feeling seems to run in one direction,
while the representatives of the people are disposed to take a
different course. The discussion which takes place in the
legislative body gives rise to discussion out of doors. The
people and their representatives have time to compare notes;
and instead of a high state of feeling and exasperation, a
greater degree of reflection is produced. So that when the
final vote has been taken in the legislative body, it has received the most cordial approbation from the men of all parties. The settlement of the Oregon controvesy is an instance
of this. It is a memorable proof, that the question of peace
and war is coming to be viewed in a manner totally different
from what it was formerly: and that the American p)eople and
government are deeply impressed with the notion, that to preserve peace is to maintain civilization. The institutions of
goveruijlent in a republic have some office to perform, besides
that of giving occasion to the exercise of political power.
They beget habits of reflection, and disseminate a spirit of inquiry throughout the land.tl   Nor are those protracted debates
which t-lke place in the legislature, and which are so mnuch
the subject, of criticism abroad, without their use. They allow
time tor public opinion to ritpen, and bring the l)eople and
their representatives into harmotny  with each other. Half a century ageo, the treaty negotiated by Mr. Jay, although it was exceedingly advantageous to the United States, created a degree
of agitati!on which shook the confederacy to its very center.
The institutions were then younig; the people had not- grown
into the, new circumstances in which they were placed. Time,
15




226              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOK II.
and the consequent increase of population, which it was predicted would develop in ten-fold strength, the mischiefs then
experienced, has had a contrary effect. A dispute which, in
1795, may have kindled a bloody and unprofitable war, was in
1846, easily adjusted upon the same principles on which sagaciorus men of business act, in settling their private controversies.
In a democratic republic of considerable extent, the electors are so numerous that each feels himself like a drop in the
ocean. So that the more the number of active citizens is increased, the greater is the power of the state, and yet in the
same proportion is the importance of each individual diminished. The governors and the governed are in reality one and
the same; but so exceedingly small is the share of influence
which falls to each person, that everything seems to go on
without any co-operation on his part. The movements of the
political machine seem to be directed by an unseen hand, and
to the conducted with as much regularity and precision as in
the most consolidated governments. The difference between
the two cases is, that in the former it is a mere illusion, while
in the last it is all reality. But the illusion which is practised
upon the imagination, instead of detracting from the weight
which the governed possess in the character of governors,
adds greatly to it. Each one of the ci:izens is of importance;
and yet if it were possible for hima to realize this-to believe
that he was of so much consequence,, that his participation in
the government was necessary to the general weal —public
affairs wolld(l meet with constant hindrances, instead of proceeding with order and regularity. It is because each one
does act, andl yet so acts that his voice appears to be drowned
in that of the public, that so much alertness and energy are
combined with so much prudence and circr mspectiin in the
managemelt of public affairs, and that one of the most difficult problems in government-that of conciliatintg the rights
of each with the interests of all-approaches as near solution
as, humanly speaking, is possible. It is in those countries
where the electors are few, that the government feels most
appr-ehensive, and is in ldanger of the most frequent revolutions. So that so far is the notion, that the governors and
the governed may be one and the same, from being. a paradox




CHAP. II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                227
in politics, the more completely we succeed in practice in carrying it out, the more secure is the government, and the more
prosperous and powerful are the people.
The same sense of feebleness and insignificance which each
citizen feels as an elector, is more or less experienced by him
when he desires to be a candidate for office. Although the
elective form of government has the effect of multiplying the
public employments, yet these are after all so few, when compared with the great number of persons who are eligible to
them, that not one in a thousand dares flatter himself that he
will be the successful candidate, or if he is, that he will be
able to retain his place beyond the short period for which he
is at first elected.  This has one good effect. In spite of
many untoward influences, acting in an opposite direction, it
lessens the self-importance of individuals, and puts every one
on his good behavior.
Thus, in a republic, men demand that the utmost equality
should prevail.  They establish free institutions, and thus
open the way to all the offices and emoluments in the state.
But they have no sooner done so, than they find themselves
crowded and incommoded in every effort to acquire the object
of their ambition. If they lived under a monarchical or aristocratical govertlment, they would have been obliged to contend with those who had the advantages of rank or fortune
on their side. Those advantages are now annulled, but the
number of those who are eligible to offices is multiplied more
than a hundred fold, and the obstacles in the way of acquiring
them, although of a very different kind, are yet fully as great
as in any other form of government. But those institutions
which have raised up so many barriers to the ambition of all
polular candidates, and contracted their hopes and expectations within the narrowest possible dimensions, are the workmanship of the people themselves. They have neither the
right, therefore, nor any the least disposition to quarrel with
its operation. This is one reason why in the United States
the profoundest tranquillity prevails after the elections. Up
to the time when they are held all is excitement and agitation. But they are no sooner closed than the whole population seeks repose. The same institutions which extend liberty
to all, establish the empire of public opinion, which, repre



228             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOI II.
senting the sentiments and interests of all classes, presses
with an irresistible weight upon the whole community, giving
security to the government, and contentment to the people.
All is brought about by the votes of a majority of the citizens, and to this majority all parties are habituated, by a
sense of interest as well as from the necessity of the case, to
pay unlimited deference.
Thus, although the electoral franchise is extended to the
utmost, so that the government is literally wielded by the
people, yet between the people and the organized authority
of the state there is interposed a machinery which, as it is
viewed by each individual, has an air of sanctity and importance which gives additional force to the public will. It
is illusion. The institutions are the direct and legitimate
offpring of the popular vote.  Each citizen contributes to
the formation of public opinion; but once it is formed it represents a whole. and presses with an undivided weight upon
each. So each individual of the majority contributes to make
up the million and a half of votes which decide the election
of the American President. But that majority is then viewed
in the aggregate, and so acquires an easy empire over the
imaginations of all.
But this is not all. As it is only a small number of the
peol)le who can fill the public offices at any one time, as it is a
still smaller number who can ever succeed to the highest, the
government and the people seem to be still more separated
fronmi one another. All the public officers are mere agents of
the people. But they are as one to thousands. They are set
apart for the performance of special duties, and are all clothed
with a greater or less degree of authority. Although chosen
for short periods, and constantly watched by the searching eye
of public opinion, yet the separation is made, and this is sufficient to impress upon the laws an air of authority which commaiids respect from the whole population. Moreover there is
no time when the public offices are vacant. The persons who
conduct public affatirs are continually shifting, and yet the
government seems to be inmmortal. There is nothing more
worthy of admiration than those numberless contrivances
which exist in a society by which a system of compensations
is established, and the irregularities of one part are corrected




CHAP. Ir.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               229
by an unforseen influence in another. The process is noticeable in the individual man, and is equally observable in that
collection of men which we denominate a community.
I do not see why so great difficulty should be felt in conceiving that the people who govern and the people who are
governed may be one and the same, when the principal design
of civil government is to bring out and to represent those
qualities which are common to all. The individual may crave
many gratifications, and pursue a great number of ends which
appertain to his private interests. These may not interfere
with the public weal; they may even contribute directly to
promote it. But wherever there is a conflict, inasmuch as all
have a right, if one has, to run athwart the public interest,
while at the same time the attempt by all to exercise the right
would annul it for each, it becomes a matter of necessity, and
does not altogether depend upon reflection, that all learn to
distinguish more or less carefully between those interests
which are peculiar to each and those which are common to
all.
But although it is not left to reflection to make the distinction in the first instance, yet, as reflection is powerfully awakened by enlarging the sphere of popular rights, it has a great
deal to do with the matter afterward. In the great majority
of mankind the formation of habits of reflection must necessarily depend upon the exercise which their minds receive
from the daily occupations which engage them. The contrivance of means toward the attainment of the ends they are
in pursuit of, the balancing of advantages against disadvantages, and the anxieties of all kinds which are consequent
upon this employment of their faculties, makes them reflective
in spite of themselves. It has been observed that the Americans are the most serious people in the world. And the
remark is undoubtedly just. They are not the gravest, but
the most serious, people. For there is a very wide difference
between gravity and seriousness.  The former may be the
result of vanity, or dullness, or a frigid temperament. The
last always implies thoughtfulness. It is a fine remark of
Schiller, that the serene and the placid are the attributes of
works of art, but that the serious belongs to human life.
But in a democratic republic, the field of human life is more




230             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
thoroun)hly laid open than it is anywhere else. All the ordinary motives to reflection are increased, because the objects,
about which reflection is employed, are multiplied. Individuals are thrown more upon their own resources. Each has
more to do, more to quicken his exertion, more to kindle hope,
and yet to sadden with disappointment. When we look over
the vast agricultural population of the United States, and observe that it is almost entirely composed of proprietors, the
reason why there is so much activity and yet so much reflection, so much stir and yet such perfect tranquillity, is apparent. Proprietors are charged with the entire management
of a business which, in other countries, is divided between
two or three classes. They are rendered thoughtful and circumspect, because they have so much to engross their attention and to tax their exertions. If the slaves of the south did
not belong to a race decidedly inferior to that of the white
man, it would be the highest wisdom to manumit them. The
abolition of slavery would have the same effect as the abolition of the laws of primogeniture. It would melt down large
properties into farms of a reasonable size. The number of
proprietors would be greatly increased, and so would the
number of those who would be trained to habits of independen t exertion.  The agricultural population of the United
States are the conservators of the peace, and the great balance-wheel of the constitution.
In a country where free institutions exist, not only is the
sphere of individual exertion enlarged, the amount of business transacted by private individuals increased, but the interests which are common to all are also increased. If the
eftfect were only t'o animate the cupidity of individuals, to
sharpen the appetite for self gratification, and thus to nourish
an universal egotism, it would run counter to all the ends for
which civil government is established. But we cannot well
enhance the importance of any one's private business, without placing him more in connection with others, compelling
him to co-operate in their exertions, and causing them in their
turn to be instrumental in his. If, in America, the rural population is for the most part composed of proprietors, and in
the towns, the trades are thrown open to all, and not confined
to the colleges of artizans, there must be a constant tendency




CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               231
toward the creation of a system of common interests, since
a great majority of the people have so deep a stake in the
protection of property, and in the maintenance of those laws
which guarantee personal liberty. Governmental regulation,
of one kind or another, becomes more and more necessary.
And this necessity is realized by a very great number of people. So that although men escape from the restraint which
the artificial forms of government impose; they find themselves, when living under free institutions, surrounded by all
sorts of restraints.  The great difference between the two
cases is, that in the last, the restraint is imposed for the common benefit of all, and with the free consent of all.
But this does not prevent the operation of that illusion to
which I have constantly referred. Government has a vast and
complicated business to transact, ever increasing with the increase of the population, so that the management of public
affairs, in the single state of New York, is far more intricate
and weighty than it was in the great empire of Charlemagne.
The intervention of the governors stands out in bold relief,
as something distinct from, and totally independent of, society.
The people of that state created their government, and lend
it a free and unanimous support. And yet, there is hardly
one of them, perhaps, on hearing pronounced the words "people of the state of New York," in a simple indictment, but
what feels as if an immense but undefinable authority was impending over him.
The property which elective government possesses beyond
any other, of representing those interests which are common
to the whole population, has this further effect: it tends to
correct the idiosyncrasy of individuals. So that, contrary to
all expectation, there is more sameness, more uniformity of
character, among the American people than alnong any other.
In other countries the inequality of rank, the inequality in the
distribution of property, together with innumerable influences
springing from these, produce the greatest diversity of character. The Americans enjoy more freedom than any other
people; but if the structure of society is such that all are
obliged to conform to some common standard, this freedom
will simply terminate in rendering the manners and modes of
thinking of all more alike.




232              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
Foreigners, in noticing the commanding authority which
the will of the majority impresses upon American society,
object to it, and even liken it to the awe which is inspired by
monarchical government. But the two things are of an entirely different character.  That majority after all reflects
pretty much the substantial interests and the leading opinions of all. It could not be a majority of the people, if it did
not produce this effect. Parties may afford to magnify their
respective differences, if the only effect is to set in a more
striking light the numerous points of agreement which exist
among them.  Moreover, if the superstitious submission,
which prevails in a monarchy, contributes to fortify monarchical institutions, the authority, which public sentiment exercises in a republic, has a mighty efficacy in giving force and
durability to free institutions. It is very true, that if in the
United States any one is so wicked, or so unwise, as to entertain views favorable to the establishment of monarchical or
aristocratical government, be dare not give utterance to them.
But it is very certain that this species of despotism which is
exercised over the minds of men, by causing public sentiment
to run in one channel, places the institutions and the manners
in harmony with each other, and gives strength and consistenrcy to the first.
Thus, under whatever aspect we may view representative
government, the same idea presents itself of an invisible authority residing in the state; which only represents the will
of the people; and yet, in the imaginations of all, the high
and the low, the rich and the poor, is clothed in a form, which
exacts as unlimited obedience to the laws as any other government. Perhaps this phenomenon is only a manifestation
of that tendency which the human nind constantly discovers,
of figuring to itself some ideal standard of law and justice,
which, although it may never be attained, yet acts as a powerful regulative principle in controlling the actions of man.
This ideal cannot be found in the partial and half-formed
opinions of individuals. It is therefore endeavored to be
obtained from that character of unity, which the collective
authority of all, stamps upon society. We may occasionally
notice something of the kind, even in the artificial forms of
government, where the prince has pushed his authority to




CHAP. Ir.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                233
such an excess as to rouse a general popular sentiment for the
time being. During the celebrated three days in Paris, a
rumor was given out, by the leaders of the popular party, that
a provisional government was formed. Sentinels were stationed before one of the hotels, where Lafayette, Gen. Gerard,
and the Duke de Choiseul met; and when any one came to
the door, these sentinels would say, the government is in session. This idea of a government, the historian says, gave
ten-fold force and energy to the popular cause, and decided
the revolution in its favor. But in the democratic republic of
the United States, this notion of government, this abstract
representation of law and justice, has a legitimate foundation.
It, therefore, takes firmer hold of the imaginations of men,
and prevents the occurrence of those dreadful commotions
which have convulsed France and other countries.  It not
only prevents any rival notion from springing up; it prevents
any rival institution from planting itself in the country.
There is an institution in America which is something new
in the history of the civilized world, and which -proves with
what facility the notion of the governors and the governed
being one and the same, may be carried into practice. The
religious establishments are all supported by the voluntary
contributions of the respective congregations. It was a prevailing idea at one time, even in the United States, that if
the state did not take religion under its own care, the religious sentiment would fall to decay. Entirely the reverse has
been found to be the case. There is no country in the world
where the attention to religion is so marked and so universal
as in the United States. The sum which is voluntarily contributed is greater than is collected in any European government, except Great Britain; and the amount which is paid to
those who perform  the actual duties is larger than in any
other, without any exception whatever. So far from infidelity
overspreading the land, and every one doing what seems right
in his own eyes, the restraint, which religion exercises, is more
manifest than anywhere else. Society is singularly exempt
from the scornful hate and the pestilential breath of the infidel.
In this instance the governors and the governed are the
same; the institution is on an exceedingly large scale, for it




234            NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II1
embraces a great majority of the population. And the interests, with which it has to do, are of unspeakable magnitude,
as they involve all our hopes hereafter, and constitute the
chief ties by which society is held together. For religion lies
at the foundation of all our notions of law, and justice. Nor
is there the least reason to believe that free institutions can
be permanently upheld, among any but a religious people.
It is curious to note the working of this principle, that the
governed may govern themselves, in some of its minute ramifications. There was a custom in Connecticut at one time
(probably still existing), which permitted juries in all cases to
retire to consider their verdicts, unattended by any officer
charged Io keep them together. When the judge of the federal court first visited the state for the purpose of holding a
term, he was startled at this custom, and was so convinced
that the laws could not be impartially administered under it,
that he expressed a determination to banish it from the tribunal over which he presided. But a previous residence in the
state would have satisfied him, that the verdict of juries in no
part of the world were more free from suspicion-more unexceptionable in every respect-than in Connecticut. Too active
an inquisition into the actions of men, frequently puts them
upon doing the very things which were intended to be prevented.
There is a controversy pending in England at the present
day, between the bench and bar on one side, and the press on
the other. The press undertakes to report the proceedings of
the courts in important public trials, while they are in progress; and the bench and bar deny the right to do so, maintaining that such a practice is calculated to forestall the public
mind, and to influence the verdicts of juries. This controversy
commenced, or at any rate assumed a threatening aspect,
in the time of Lord Ellenborough. That eminent judge, anxious, no doubt, to hold the scales of justice with an even hand,
gave it to be understood, that unless the practice was desisted
from, the most severe and exemplary mesures would be adopted. This was repeatedly proclaimed during the trial of some
very important criminal cases: but I believe without effect.
Now I do not pretend to say which side is in the right, relatively to an English population: but I do not believe that any




CHAP. II. ]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              235
harm has resulted in the United States from the freest publication of similar trials, during their progress through the
courts. As all trials are public, in America as well as in England, whatever is transacted within the walls of the court
house is immediately spread abroad by the multitude of listeners who are present. And as, from imperfect apprehension,
want of tact, or a variety of other causes, representations
widely differing from each other will be made of the proceedings, the publication by a journal, which employs a reporter,
for the purpose of taking down the evidence, so far from prejudicing the public mind, and turning the course of justice
aside, may contribute to correct all the erroneous notions
which are afloat. It may be laid down as an invariable
maxim, that the good use of an institution will be in proportion to its constant and familiar use.
It is at a comparatively recent period that the comparison
of hand-writing has been submitted to the jury. The old rule,
which deferred the examination to the court exclusively, has
been changed, and the reason assigned for the change is that
the persons who composed the jury formerly could not write.
As this is no longer the case, the court now derives great assistance from the judgment which is exercised by the jury on
this difficult matter. Juries are able to govern themselves,
although they are no longer subjected to the rigid control of
the court.
The freedom which females enjoy, is another remarkable
trait in American society. In Roman Catholic countries, indeed in Protestant European communities, nothing of the
kind is observed. It may have been supposed, proceeding
lamely from a knowledge of what had been, to the conclusion
what would be, that so much liberty would give rise to great
licentiousness. The reverse is the case. In no country is the
purity of the female character better preserved. In order to
give to the laws of morality a controlling influence upon our
actions, it seems indispensably necessary that we should share
to some degree, even in youth, in the responsibility which attaches to those actions. And this can only be accomplished by
a delicate mingling of the two things, freedom and restraint.
The liberty of the press is another example. It was once
predicted that a press without a licenser would produce in



236             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK I.
finite licentiousness in conduct and opinions, and that the
authority of the government, if not violently overturned, would
be secretly undermined by the incessant action of so powerful
an agent. All such conjectures have been entirely falsified.
In no country is the press so powerful for good, in none is
it so powerless for evil, as in the United States. If it were
strictly guarded, and only circulated opinions by stealth, the
appetite for change would be constantly whetted. The most
startling doctrines would gain credence, simply because they
were forbidden. By abolishing the office of licenser, the monopoly of the press is broken down. Opinions are harmless,
because being free they mutually correct each other. Great
multitudes of persons pride themselves upon holding opinions
the most adverse to the public safety, when it is a privilege
to promulgate them, whether that privilege is conferred by
the laws, or is only obtained by stealth. Take away the
privilege, and the appetite for all sorts of dangerous novelties
gradually wears itself out; for what is novel to-day, becomes
threadbare to-morrow, and juster and more sensible views, on
all subjects, will be more likely to make their way among the
whole population, because the disturbing influence of the passions will be less, instead of greater.
If any one supposes that it has been any part of my design to inculcate the notion, that free institutions are a panacea
for all the evils which are incident to society, he will be greatly
mistaken. No one can be more pressed down with a couviction of the vices and infirmities which cling to human nature,
whatever may be the form in which the institutions are cast.
All I have aimed at, is to show that the democratic form of
government is free from the objections which have been made
to it; that, without pretending to anything like perfection, it
is, on the while, the best form of civil polity which can be
devised; one which is best fitted. to bring out the greatest
amount of good qualities, both in the individual and the citizen.
I have, therefore, endeavored to show that representation,
which in the beginning is an institution by the people, comes,
in process of time, and through the instrumentality of causes
which are immutable in their operation, to be an institution
over as well as by the people. That it is the people who give
being to this whole system, and that thus the governors and
the governed may be identical and yet different.




CHAP. mxI.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                237
CHAPTER  III.
SOVEREIGxNTY OF THE PEOPLE-IMPORT OF THE PHRASE.
IT is certain that free institutions do not render men so perfect but what they may commit great mistakes in the exercise
of the privileges which are committed to them. It is equally
true that in that form of government men are often led away
by the grossest delusions, and are persuaded even to travel
beyond the bounds which the great law of morality has prescribed. The term "' sovereignty of the people" is one of those
which has been subjected to a most fatal misconstruction.
Because, in a republic, the political authority of the state has
been removed from the insecure foundation on which it formerly rested; because the will of the people has been substituted in the place of hereditary rule; it is sometimes supposed
that this new power possessessed unlinited attributes, and that
it was free to make any disposition which it pleased of the
rights of any part of the community. The "juro divino" right
has been repudiated, and yet another mzaxim has risen up in
its place equally terrible to humanity, and destructive of the
very interests which free institutions are designed to protect.
There is no power on earth, the people no more than the priince,
which can be conceived to be absolved from the eternal principles of justice. To assert the contrary would be to deny the
existence of some of the most fundamental laws of our b ing 1,0of those laws which stamp upon all haulan actions a charact:er
of right or wrong. Such laws are not mere arbitrary rules,
without any dependence upon some governing principle, tnd
free at any time to be taken.l up or laid down. They are a
part of our original constitution, as muuch so as any of oar
intellectual faculties or appetites, but with a far higcher authority. There is a rule then which is superior to what is
sometimes called the will of the people, and which obliges
them to the observance of rectitude, with as high, although




238              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II.
with no higher, authority than it binds the consciences of
private individuals.
Right and physical power are not correlative terms. Right
and moral power would be more nearly so. It is supposed,
however, that there is a wide distinction between the conduct
of individuals and of a whole nation; that inasmuch as the
former may be restrained by positive laws, they have neither
the power nor the right to commit injustice; that on the other
hand, as there is no power actively to control the will of the
people, they have from the necessity of the case, both the
power and the right to do as they please. But, some things
are here too hastily taken for granted.  There is, properly
speaking, no way of preventing the actions of individuals,
any more than of a whole people. Actions may be punished
after they are comnmitted, but the most absolute monarch is
obliged to permit his subjects to be free until they have acted.
A physical necessity compels him to do so. All the people
cannot be goalers of all the people.  If, then, because the
state is at liberty to do as it pleases, it has the right also;
for the same reason, private persons have the right to commit
murder, or any other heinous offense. If it should be said,
that as the latter may be punished afterward, this at any i'ate
places an entire distinction between the two cases, the truth
of the proposition might be admitted. But it would nevertheless be a surrender of the whole ground of argument, by
making the distinction an incidental, instead of an intrinsic
and necessary one.
But even here, there is an important step in the reasoning, which is taken too hastily.  Nations may be, and frequeIntly (perhaps I should say unniverall) are, punished for
their misdeeds. Sometimes they are punished by other nations. At others, they are cruelly scourged by intestinee divisions. France, in the reign of Louis XVI, was visited by
the heaviest misfortunes;  and these nlisfortulnes may be
traced directly to the corruption, which had spread like a leprosy over those classes of society which had the mlnaagement of public affairs. These  isfortune  first first fell upon the
royal family, the inobility, and the clergy; because the abuses
com-amitted in those quarters stoodl out in bold relief, and
shocked the common sense of mankind. The people, whom




CHAP. III.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                239
the general progress of knowledge had silently lifted into
some importance, began to feel their own Atrength. But
they put forth this strength by committing all sorts of enormities. And they, in their turn, were visited by the most
frightful calamities: 1st, by foreign wars, occasioned by the
excesses of the revolution; 2d, by furious parties in the bosom
of France, which, after revenging themselves upon each other,
delivered over that fine country to the wildest uproar and
confusion; until at length these parties were themselves extirpated by a military despot. And this new power, having
fulfilled the end for which it was appointed by Providence,
was suddenly overthrown, leaving behind a warning to all
nations, that neither kings nor people can commit crimes with
impunity. Charles I, of England, and his infatuated ministers, were punished by the people; the people were then punished for the violence of which they were guilty, by the reestablishment of the royal power in the full plenitude of its
authority. James LI persuaded himself that this counter revolution had lasted long enough to show that the prerogatives
of the crown were consolidated for all time to come, and he
acted upon this belief. He and his adherents were driven into
exile; and it was not until all orders of men abljured the
ma.xim, that might gives right, that any approach was made
toward the es;ablishament of regulated freedom.
Illustrations might be drawn from the history of the United Staites, though in that country they are not exhibited on
anything like so large a scale, because the American people
have never inmaginedl that they possess the omtnipotent authority attributed to then by slavish deagornogues.  There is a
watchfulness and circumnspection now visible in the conaduct of
nationls, the result of the growing reflection of the afge, which
holdls theml back when they are about to leap too fast, and so
pievents the.ocnrtrence of a world of mischief. But whenever the legislatures of the American States, acting upon the
assumed will of the people, have betrayed the trust confided
to them, and passed laws which infringed the great rules of
justice, misfortunes of one kind or other have been the invari:?ble conisequence. I believe, if any one were to set himself
upon Imaking a searchitng and critical examination into a subject, which at first sight seems to be confused and mystified




240              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOIK II.
by the great variety of agencies which are simultaneously
at work in society, it would be found that nations are even
more certainly punished for their misdeeds than individuals.
But it may be said, in reply to these views, which if true,
are of so great importance, that when calamitiies are the consequence of the unlawful acts of governments or people, great
numbers of innocent persons are involved in the suffering
which overtakes the guilty. But,
First, This is no answer to the argument, which is, that the
guilty are sure to be punished, sooner or later.
Second, The same circumstance occurs in the punishment
of private individuals. We cannot pat to death or imprison
any man, without afflicting more or less numbers of persons
who are dependent upon, or in some way connected with him.
WTe cannot do so without frequently casting a blight over the
reputation and hapipness of family and friends. This is an
invariable dispensation of Providence. And it is doubtless
so ordered, because in every such instance, some shadow of
blame or reproach, although not immediately visible to the
public eye, does in reality fall upon persons who are not
openly guilty, or not guilty of the same identical fault.
The maxim, "the king can do no wrong," has been engrafted into the monarchical constitutions of Europe, because
it has been supposed that such governments were founded
upon opinion. In other words, as the authority of the prince
is a fiction, it is necessary to prop and support it by a fiction. Wherein, then, will a nation be the gainer by the establishment of a democratic form of government, if it shall
be declared that the people can do no wrong? It will be to
maintain that their authority is a fiction, and that it can
only be upheld by a fiction. Human affairs will be a prey
to as much disorder as ever. For as the people can never,
in any country of even tolerable extent, personally take part
in the public administration, society will be ruled by factions.
And the maxim, that right and power are convertible terms,
will be made to defeat itself in practice. by substituting in
place of the will of the people, the will of a mere fraction of
the state. I believe that the greater the amount of power
which is communicated to a whole nation, or to speak with
more precision, the greater the proportion of the population,




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 241
by whom political power is exercised, the greater will be the
probability that the laws will be just and wise, and that their
administration will be impartial; and "' vice versa," the fewer
the number of citizens who possess political rights, the less
the probability that the course of legislation will be. characterized by an observance of the great principles of justice.
WVhen the whole authority which appertains to government
is concentered directly or indirectly in the people, as in the
American commonwealth, the national power is the strongest;
for then, not only is the will which moves the strongest, but
the instruments by which it moves are most readily subservient to a common end. Such a community, if it chooses to
put forth its strength, is equal to almost any achielvement.
If it never dcoes exert its power to anything like the extent of
which it is capable, it is in consequence of the self-limiting
tendency which great popular power invariably has. For,
consider for whom), and upon whom, this power is to be exercised. It is not enough to consider by whom it is exerted,
without taking into account the manner in which it is obliged
to operate, as we would do in the case of any other government, whose character we were desirous of sifting.
Now in a democratic republic, the laws are made by the
people, and for the people, and they act directly upon the people. And when this is the case, it becomes (not impossible
to be sure, but) exceedingly difficult, to consult the interests
of. the few, to the prejudice of the many. The theory of such
a government is, that the common interests of the whole comrn
munity shall be consulted. But what does this phrase, common interests of the whole community, mean. It signifies,
undoubtedly, that the rights of all the citizens shall be equally
guarded and respected. It is where the p.riviliges of A or B
are violated for the benefit of C or D, that we say injustice
is done to individuals. It is when the interests of one body
of men are trampled upon for the advantage of another body,.
that injustice upon a still larger scale is committed.  So that
if the government is so constructed, as not merely to give the
ability, out to render it the interest of the law-giviig power
to protect the rights of all, the probability is great.l i.tcreased,
that the rule of right will be the standard, that the klaws wilL
16




242              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK II.
be in accordance with the eternal principles-of justice. Not
because men, living under such a government, are naturally
more disposed to the observance of rectitude than any other
men; but simply because there is no way by which any considerable number of people can obtain justice for themselves,
but by consenting that justice shall be administered to others
also. It is a circumstance of great importance, however, that
although there may be no original difference between men in
this respect, and that human nature is strictly the same everywhere-the same in Massachusetts and Ohio, as in Italy or
Turkey-yet that the habit of living under such institutions
for any considerable period, and the consequent experience of
the unspeakable benefits which in the long run accrue to every
one, contribute powerfully to fortify men in the pursuit of
the rule of right, to incline them spontaneously, and not
merely upon compulsion, to act correctly.: and thus to raise
the general standard of the manners, as well as that of the
laws.'And although minds which are disposed to look upon
the dark side of everything, or minds which are fretful and
discontented, because they cannot jump immediately to the
fulfillment of all their desires, or realize some preconceived
theory of their own, may make all sorts of objections to such
a constitution of government; yet it is not the least of the
excellencies of such a system, that it possesses the two-fold
property of allowing the fullest latitude to the expression of
private discontent; and yet of controlling it in such a manner that it shall do no harm to any part of the machine.
Thus, the more thorough the establishment'of free institutions, the greater is the chance for the maintenance of just
laws and the preservation of public tranquillity; for the interests of each becomen more nearly identical with the interests
of all, and the rights of each are only a reflection of the rights
of all. fBut we must distinguish between a people who have a
democratic character and democratic institutions, and a people who have democratic opinions only. The last may rush
headlong into all sorts of excesses, and with difficulty escape
the yoke of the most galling tyranny. The first is protected
from such calamities, because it is the capacity for freedom,
and not the possession of it, which is able to effect an advanitageous distribution of the political power of the community.




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               243
The one was the condition of France during the revolution, the
other is that of the United States.
I have spoken of a democratic republic as the form of government in which the greatest amount of power resides. And
persons who are captivated by appearances may suppose that
this is a mistaken view. It may be argued, that the United
States have never put forth anything like the amount of power
which has been wielded by Great Britain or France. But the
possession and command of power are not the same with the
actual exercise of it. I suppose, that if we could imagine the
American republic to be animated and borne along by some
one predominant idea, as was the case with France and England, in the gigantic wars of the French revolution, more
strength, more resources, and a greater degree of enthusiasm
would be called into requisition, than was the case in either of
those instances. MIy argument has been purposely directed to
show that where the greatest amount of power resides in the
nation, it will necessarily be attended with a self-limiting tendency; that the incapacity, or rather the want of inclination,
to exert itself will continue no longer than is proper; that if
the solid interests of the state demand military effort, it will
be made; and that if this species of exertion does not become
the habitual practice of the nation, it is because the greater
the power, the more it is drawn into a direction favorable to
the development of the interior interests of the state, and unfavorable to the concentration of power in the government
alone. In other words, if we would carry niational power in
its genuine sense to the highest possible pitch, we must make
every man a citizen; but by so doing we render the wanton
and useless expenditure of this power inconsistent with the
common welfare, and therefore inconsistent with the maintenance of just and equal laws. If we were to suppose the United States attacked by a confederacy of all the potentates of
Europe, for the express purpose of extripating free institutions (an event, the opportunity for doing which has now
passed over), I imagine that-the amount of both moral and
physical power, which would be put forth by the nation,
would exceed anything of the kind of which history gives an
account.
In the case of Great Britain and France; if the people pos



244              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
sessed a higher degree of power, that is, if the national strength
were intrinsically greater, less outward display would be made
of it; the resources of those states would not be wasted in the
mainrtenance of vast military and naval establishments; the
productive labor of those communities would have taken a
direction less fitted to captivate the imagination, but infinitely
better calculated to promote their solid prosperity. When we
speak of one nation as verypowerful, in contrast with some
others, we ordinarily, but inconsistently enough, mean that
the structure of society is such, as to enable a ruling caste to
comnmand the lives and fortunes of the major part of the population; that is, we view what is in reality a capital defect in
the institutions, as a system of strength; we put a part in place
of the whole, and because this disposition of the national
strength is so imposing in appearance, and bears with such an
enormous weight upon the mass of the population, we conclude that the nation is more powerful. Doubtless, if we were
to imagine the vast resources of the United States placed under the command of a military despot, and the minds of men
to be moved by an irresistible impulse, the national grandeur,
as it is falsely termed, might be carried to the highest conceivable point. But the effective strength of the country would
decline, and the moral energy which now animates the people
would be speedily extinguished. As such a scheme of government would commence in injustice, it could only maintain itself by all sorts of injustice, and the laws would cease to be
guided by the great rule of right, because the nation had become weaker instead of stronger. The formation of written
constitutions, by the people themselves, is an incontestible
proof that they believe that there is such a rule; that it is
superior to the mere commands of men; and that it has authority to govern in all public aflairs, as well as in the private
relations of' society.  Constitutions, which are originally designed to be a restraint upon the government, operate necessarily in a popular commonwealth as a restraint upon the p-opli also. An individual who voluntarily places himself in a
situation which disables him from doing wrong, gives proof of
his snperiority. He only who is strong enough to be wise can
affOid to be j st. And the same is true of a whole nation.
There is this difference between a convention exercising the




CHEP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                245.supreme power of the people, and an ordinary legislative body:
the former enter upon the trust committed to them with a conviction that they are dealing with fundamental principles.
The questions, what is right, what should be declared as rules,
not temporarily, but for all time to come, are less embarrassed
by the fleeting opinions of the day. And the ordinances which
are framed have something of the absolute character of abstract
truths.  Hence no people would insert in their constitution
any provision which was manifestly immoral or unjust though
the same could not be said of a legislative assembly.  All the
things which it may or may not do, cannot be written down in
the constitution. And so a field of limited extent is still left
open to exercise the judgment and discretion of the legislature.
But may not this body transgress the bounds which have
been marked out by the constitution, and pass laws which, to
use a term which is strictly an American one, are unconstitun
tional?  May it not do so, in compliance with the will of its
constituents, the people? And it is very certain that all this
may be done. But in the United States the instances are exceedingly rare where it has actually been done.  In almost
every case, where an alleged violation has occurred, it has
afforded subject matter for fa1ir argument and debate on both
sides, or the legislative act complained of was passed improvidently, and was subsequently repealed. The states of New
Hampshire, INew York, Maryland, Ohio, Kentucky, Illinois,
&c., passed laws which were adjudged by the supreme court of
the union to be unconstitutional, and those states immedictely
retraced their steps, although in one instance that tribunal
went the length of decreeing that a prospective law impaired
the obligation of contracts, and to the extreme length of declaring that, although such laws were not within the scope of
state jurisdiction, it was competent to the federal legislature
to pass them; and yet I confess it is exceedingly difficult for
me to conceive how it can be competent to any legislative body
to violate a fundamental rule of morality.
The admission of Texas might seem to be an exception to
these remarks. It is certain that it was viewed by one party
as an express violation of the federal constitution. But as
that instrument does not contain an enumeration of the cases




246             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II.
in which the treaty-making power may be exercised, the question is necessarily attended with great difficulties. Certainly
it behooves a free people to guard against a too great extension, as well as a too narrow limitation, of the power. The
authority by one government to accept an offer from another
government, of a transfer of itself, so as to be incorporated
with the former, appears at first blush to be too great an one
to be confided to one department of the legislature. And as
the most natural disposition which can be made of this right,
is to deposit it with the entire legislature, we are free to do so,
when the constitution is absolutely silent upon the subject.
It will hardly be supposed that the English people are unreasonably latitudianarian in their notions of legislative power.
The tendency is rather the reverse. The disposition is to
guard scrupulously the prerogatives of the crown. The term
treaty-making power has even a more indefinite meaning in
that country than it has in the United States, and might seem
therefore to swallow up every interest which concerned the
foreign relations of the state, and which was not absolutely
confided to the legislature. We might well suppose that the
cession or exchange of European territory lay fairly within
the scope of the treaty-making power. And yet it is the opinion of the greatest English statesmen, that no such cession or
exchange could be made, unless it was concurred in by both
houses of parliament.
There is no direct warrant for this interposition of the legislative authority. It can only be made out by admitting that
the transfer of European territory, belonging to England, is
theoretically within the treaty-making power; and-yet insisting that it is not within its spirit. Nor does it alter the aspect
of the American question,. that because the treaty-making
power in Great Britain is vested in the king alone, it is therefore necessary to guard against its exercise, in so novel a case,
by subjecting his action to the control of the entire legislature.
The question still turns upon, what is the theory of the British
constitution, and where is the authority for limiting the treatymaking power in one particular case. Nor does it affect the
argument that British statesmen hold, that such a compact
must at least originate with the king. The difficulty still
recurs, by what authority is the treaty-making power curtailed




CHAP III.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                247
in a government where it seems to be least ambiguous, and
least open to construction. The difficulty is similar to another
which occurs under the American constitution. The treatymaking power is conferred without limitation on the president
and senate. Would a treaty, by which the United States were
bound to lay a duty upon certain articles of export, be valid.
The clause which forbids such an impost is contained in the
article which limits the legislative power. There is no limitation whatever in the article which confers the treaty-making
power. The settled construction, however, in America is, that
a duty upon exports would be unauthorized in any shape whatever,-in other words, that in order to give effect to the spirit
of the constitution, we must transfer a limitation from one part
to another part to which it has properly no relation whatever.
And if this construction is well founded, there can be no doubt,
but what the construction put upon the treaty-making power,
in the admission of Texas, is also well founded.
The "' unions" of England and Scotland, and England and
Ireland, were brought about by separate acts of the parliaments of the respective countries. The three governments
acted upon the presumption that it was not enough to appoint
commissioners to treat; in other words, that the measure did
not properly fall within the treaty-making power, and that
therefore the legislative power must be appealed to. The
unions, therefore, were decreed by separate acts of the English
and Scotch, and the English and Irish parliaments, and the
proceeding was by bill, as in all other acts of legislation.
There is a very interesting problem, which the power of
altering constitutions presents in America. When the deputies of the people have assembled for this purpose, and havtr
not been bound by any specific instructions, is society resolved
into its original elements?  can the mass of society be tr(ated
as mere "tabula rosa." so that the whole body of laws and
institutions can be, not only prospectively, but retroactively,
annulled. If, for instance, numerous private associations have
grown up under the protection of the former laws, can they
be swept away without regard to the deep and permanent
injury which would be done to great multitudes of private
persons? This power has been contended for, in one state
convention; but it was instantly rejected, although the popu



248              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
latioil of that state was, at the time, perhaps the most democratic in the union;-a remarkable proof to what an extent
the American people are impressed with the notion, that might
does not give right, and how deeply all orders and parties are
convinced, that the great rules of morality and justice are not
a gift by men, but a gift to men. It is admitted, that the
authority of all public officers may be instantly' abrogated by
a constitutional convention; and the argument, that the analogy should be pursued through every species of private association, which the laws had created, would appear to have
some color. Nevertheless, the distinction has been rigidly
adhered to, and the contrary doctrine has been proclaimed as
both immoral, and anti-republican. If this were not the case,
there would be nothing to prevent a convention from annulling
all marriages; and so introducing a host of mischiefs, which
no tine could cure. I do not pretend to say, that instances
may not occur, of associations which are semi-political and
semi-civil in their character, and which may be abolished by
an " ex post facto" constitutional ordinance. But there must
be a great and overruling necessity to authorize it to be done.
The mischief intended to be remedied must be so glaring as to
shock the common sense of mankind.
What I have been most intent upon showing is, that the
American people have been scrupulously jealous of their own
power; that they have endeavored to guard against the idea
that might gives right; and have thus given to the term
"sovereigrty of the people" an interpretation.which it has
received in no other commonwealth, either of ancient or modern times.




CHAP. IV.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  249
CHAPTER  IV.
POLITICAL TOLERATION —IS IT PRACTICABLE'
RELIGIOUS toleration has produced tranquillity in the Christian world; and if toleration could also be introduce I into the
affairs of government, it could not fail to exercise a similar
influence.  But it does not very readily appear how this can
be done. It is not necessary that religious sects should act;
at least it is not necessary that they should act beyond the
sphere of their own societies. All that is necessary, in order
to render religious toleration complete, is to permit all denominations to enjoy freedom of thought, and to make such regulations within themselves as are conformable to their own
creed and discipline. But the case is very different in the
world of politics. It is made up of political parties, and of
one or other of these parties is the governing power of the
community composed. In other words, the government must
be wielded by the maijority; and this mcajority is not only
obliged to act, but to act beyond itself; to make rules for
others, as well as for itself; to preside, in short, over the interests of the whole community. There is then a wide distinction between religious and political parties, which seems to
place insuperable difficulties in the way of introducing political
toleration,
If it is possible, however, to contract the sphere within which
p-arties, even the party in the majority, are permitted to act;
if, without questioning the authority of this last to go beyond
itself and to make rules for others, the occasions on which it
exercised this right were diminished both in number and importance, it is not impossible that we might succeed in introducing into political affairs, a spirit of toleration, which would
exercise upon governments an influence very similar to that
which religious toleration has exercised upon religious sects.
For that it is not at all necessary for a religious party so to




250              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOO!K II.
act as to impress its authority upon others, is a maxim of very
recent date, and is an effect of the very general progress which
the human mind has made during the last hundred years.
Religion at one time was regarded as one of the chief, if not
the chief, political concerns of the state. Religious parties
did constantly act, and act so effectually, as to affect the life,
liberty, and property of the citizen. The system  of intolerance seemed calculated to perpetuate itself; and so long as it
lasted, the most enlightened understandings were borne down
by the innumerable obstacles, which stood in the way of
religious toleration.
It was easy to frame a plausible argument in defense of
this state of things. It might be said that, from time immemorial, religious and political questions had been so mixed,
that to attempt to separate them would be to do violence to
both religious and political interests; would, at any rate, undermine the authority of government; if for no other reason,
simply because the minds of men had constantly run in that
channel; that when there was a multitude of sects in the
state, their religious tenets would exercise a powerful influence upon their political opinions; that this would lay the
foundation for intestine dissensions, which would rend the
whole community; that the only cure was to give unity to religion, to establish it by law, and to exclude all dissenters
from the privileges which were enjoyed by the favored sect;
that in this way the unity of the government would be preserved, and its authority rendered inviolable. The inference
then would be a necessary one, that government could no
more avoid acting in religious matters, than it could avoid the
duty of defending the state against foreign invasion. Arguments, in some respects similar, might now be employed to
show the impropriety of political toleration.
The Pope, at a very early day, became one of the most considerable potentates of Europe.  Religious dogmas, of one
kind or other, exercised complete dominion over the minds of
men; and other princes, in order to maintain tranquillity
among their own subjects, and to preserve an equilibrium of
power abroad, believed that it was necessary to add to their
political, a very large share of ecclesiastical authority also.
Through all the ramifications of society, in public as well as




CHAP IV.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              251
in private life, religious and political opinions were so interwoven that it seemed impossible to separate them. A war
might be waged by the head of the church for the avowed
purpose of imposing the most absurd and impious rites upon
other nations, and if, as might naturally be expected, numerous adherents of these rites still lingered among those nations,
their governments might persuade themselves that it was
necessary to suppress freedom of religious opinion at home, in
order to deal a successful blow upon the enemy abroad. This
was the first occasion of religion becoming an engine of government in the modern European states, and of the universal
introduction of religious intolerance. And as religion was
thus erected into an affair of state, a further consequence took
place, that ecclesiastics very generally became the statesmen
of Europe.
The destruction of the papal power-the gradual decline of
all the Italian commonwealths, which for centuries composed
the most civilized part ol the European continent —the employment of men in civil life, in all public affairs-and above
all the general progress of knowledge, industry, and freedom,
have contributed to reverse the old order of things. A separation has actually been effected, between the political interests of the state and the religious doctrines which are taught.
The tendency of modern society, then, is to withdraw religion from the arena of politics, to put all sects in the possession of privileges which were formerly usurped by one, so
that it shall no longer be necessary, nor even possible, for
government to extend its legislation over some, in order to
promote the aggrandizement of others.  The freedom  of
thought which has grown up everywhere, at the same time
that it has disarmed the civil magistrate of a most dangerous
authority, has created such a multitude of sects, that it would
sometimes be impossibie to bestow power upon one, without
oppressing a very large majority of the population. It is not
in consequence of any speculative notions, as to the justice
and humanity of the principle of toleration, that it has gained
ground so rapidly: the change has been brought about by a
total alteration in the structure of society. The popular will,
which reflects religious as well as polttical opinions, has gradually insinuated itself into the councils of all governments;




252              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BooI I1.
until it has itself become a power of formidable import. It
has attained this influence, either directly by virtue of the
principle of representation, or indirectly through the instrumentality of public opinion. In the former case, the utmost
freedom of opinion is obliged to be accorded to all religious
sects.
There are two ways of imitating this system in the region
of politics. One is, by extinguishing the cause of political
disagreement; the other, by rendering it the settled interest
of all political parties to tolerate each other's opinions respectively. The first plan would seem to be impracticable;
but it is not so. Both plans are adopted in the United States,
which being the only country where complete religious toleration has been established, it is natural, should also be the one
in which the nearest approach has been made to the assertion
of political toleration.
A written constitution, framed by representatives of the people, locks up, and forever withdraws from the field of party
strife, almost all those questions which have been the fruitful
source of discord among other communities. For almost all
the civil commotions which have occurred in the European
states, have been caused by a disagreement about questions
which are no longer open to debate in America. The constitution, with the approbation of men of all parties, has placed
them beyond the reach of the government. The authority appertaining to the political departments is also strictly limited;
and thus, a large class of powers which ether governments
have been in the habit of dealing with, without alny control,
cannot be exercised at all. In the same way as religion is
withdrawn from the political world, and has given rise to religious toleration, the fundamentals of government are also
withdrawn from all interference with it by party; and all men
agree to think and to act alike with regard to them.
As to those subjects which are left open to controversy, a
great approach has been made, though in another way, toward
the establishment of political toleration. In the first place,
every one is free to think and to speak as he pleases; and in
the second place, the minority, so far from being excluded from
the government, are entitled to representation in exact proportion to their numbers. This is of the greatest importance;




CHaP. Iv.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               253
because this body are thus placed in a situation where they
may not only think and speak for all purposes, but where the
exercise of so enviable a privilege may ultimately enable them
to act for all purposes. It is very easy to construct a legislative body, so as to represent only one interest in the state. It
may be hereditary, or for life; in which case, it would wield
an undivided influence, and there would be no effective influence, and there would be no effective and practical toleration
for other classes; or the electoral franchise may depend upon
so high a qualification, as to produce an effect similar in its
operation. Very different, however, is the case in the United
States. The legislative assemblies are composed of men of all
parties; and although in politics, the governing authority
cannot deliver itself from the necessity of acting, yet so much
freedom is enjoyed by the members Wvho compose those assemblies, that political questions borrow light from all parties. I
believe if we were to take any considerable series of years, it
would be found that the leading measures which have been
adopted in the Junited States have been the fruit of the joint
exertions of all parties; that they have been ultimately so arranged as to reflect in part the opinions of the majority, and
in part those of the minority. And thus, the spectacle is no
longer presented, of one fixed and immovable interest engrossing the whole power of the state.
The introduction of the principle of political equality is
another step toward the establishment of the most complete
toleration. IMen are obliged to recognize the liberty of others,
in order to maintain their own. The same revolution is effected in politics, as was formerly brought about in religion. The
multiplication of sects was so great as to deprive any one of
them of a predominent influence, and so excused government
from investing it with exclusive privileges. This first suggested the notion, that toleration was not only just, but that
it was eminently expedient. The great diversity of opinions,
so far from being an obstacle in the way of religious toleration, was the means of establishing it. But the same causes
which have multiplied religious, have also multiplied political,
opinions, so that there is no possible way by which one party
can be free without permitting all to be free.
The confederate form of the American government adds ad



254              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [nooK IL
ditional force to the principle of political toleration. The
country is divided into a number of separate, and to most
purposes independent, governments. And it is a consequence
of this arrangement, that all political opinions are not subjected to the control of a central legislature. The affairs of
government are divided into two classes: one of which comprehends the federal interests, the other the domestic interests of the states. And this second class may again be divided into as many subordinate ones, as there are states composing the confederacy. If this system were not adopted, the
local interests would be subjected to the jurisdiction of a single legislature, which could not adapt itself to the diversified
wants of so extensive a country, and so the laws might follow
one undistinguishing rule for communities whose pursuits
were ever so different. But now, the governing party in the
national councils may, or may not, be at any one time the
governing party in a majority of the states. The effect, in
other words, is not merely to permit the people of each section of the country to exercise freedom  of thought and
speech, but to carry their opinions into practice-to frame
their laws in conformity with their own wishes, instead of
being governed by the general majority of the whole country.
As all religious sects are tolerated, and placed in the possession of equal rights, because religion is divorced from government, so all local parties, however numerous, are tolerated,
and have an equal share of power, because the administration
of the state governments is wholly disconnected with that of
the confederacy.
Political toleration, then, is not a solecism in politics; it is
actually incorporated into American institutions, though, like
all other great blessings, they who possess it are least sensible
of its existence.
Political toleration is carried to a much greater extent in
the United States, than is religious toleration in many of the
most enlightened European governments. For let us consider
what the term religious toleration imports, even in England.
It does not mean that all sects are placed upon an equal footing. All sects are permitted to enjoy their religious opinions,
and to adopt what forms of worship they please; but only on
condition that they pay the tithe which is collected for the




CHAP. IV.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               255
support of the established clergy. That is to say, all dissenters from the state religion. are punished for the exercise of
the rights of conscience. It is not necessary to recur to the
fact, that certain oaths are still imposed upon all dissenting
ministers, and that one class of dissenters is forbidden to hold
some of the highest offices in the state. The assessment upon
all denominations equally, for the support of an established
hierarchy, makes a wide and important distinction between
religious toleration in England and political toleration in the
United States.'And although all political parties in the latter
are taxed for the support of government, as it is administered
by the majority, yet there is, after all, a wonderful coincidence
in the line of policy which is advocated by both parties. The
points of agreement are a hundred-fold greater than those in
which they differ. The latter acquire importance from standing out as exceptions to the general rule. They only contribute to keep up some animation in society, where otherwise all
would be dull and montonous. Besides, there is no party
established by law. The laws which are passed by the majority are the supreme rule, but tbe majority to-day may be the
minority to-morrow. But in England, a powerful religious
party is established by law, nor is there any way of moderating its influence through the occasional ascendancy of other
opinions. Its privileges are exclusive and permanent, and depend in no'manner upon the exercise of the popular will. The
injustice which is thus done, to a very large and enlightened
portion of the English people, is plain enough. But it is still
more glaring in the case of Ireland, where dissenters from the
established church are an immense majority of the whole
population.




256             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [Bnoo II.
CHAPTEIR V.
MONARCHICAL GOVERNMENT.
WI-IAT is the foundation of that illusion which has caused
such multitudes of people in all ages to yield a willing and
implicit obedience to the rule of a prince? A weak man, or
woman, nay a child, once seated upon the throne, exercises a
dominion over the imaginations of men which the longest
time, the greatest reflection and experience, seem unable to
conquer. This vast and disproportioned influence, of one individual above millions, seems an anomaly in the history of
human nature. It cannot be ascribed to a persuasion among
the community of the eminent advantages which spring from
such a disposition of the political power. A considerable
fraction of the community may have this persuasion in great
strength; but to suppose that the community as a body reasoned in this way, that they proceeded upon any settled arid
deliberate view of the utility of the plan, would argue the
existence of so high a degree of reflection as to give rise instantaneously to representative government.  That fraction
of the community who are so persuaded, are only so in consequence of their observing the operation of some other
very different principles which rule over the mass of mankind. They notice the superstitious feeling which ignorance
engenders; they then notice the idolatrous attachment of
superstition to evTery species of authority, and still more to
the gorgeous ensigns of authority. One may observe the workings of a similar principle in the government of private families. Children very generally believe their parents to be superior to other men and women. It is not until they become
adults (and very often not then) that they are disabused of
this prejudice. Some observation and experience are necessary to this end. But it is obvious how much this feeling contributes to the establishment of parental authority: it is




CHAP. V.]          OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                      257
equally obvious how  nuch a similar and equally mysterious
principle ccntributes to the government of mankind.
The peasant who ascends a lofty  mountain is instantly
struck, no matter howt untutored hIe may be, with the granlldeur
and sublimity of the scea Xe before him.  A vague notion of infinity is irresistibly thrust upon his mind, although bha knows
that the vast surface beneath  him is composed of alternate
patches of wood'an;id cleared land, exactly like tho.se in bis
own neiglhborhood~ So when lae confusedly calls to iis recollection the vast popl!:etion in which he lives, called a state, or
community, h'e dlvinlmles into insignificance in the co:1-1 riison,
although thatit  esl)  boe5 is only made up of men aftndi  omel n,
like those in his n,,,tiborho od.  In the first inst'an ee, being
beyond the -wVorldi i3 in;,uested; in the second, a beai:rI boeyon d
hiimself, and yet n)ot oUtli of society.  In both insl notuces,B the
notion of uait' see.us iecessary, in order to givo s5l>ort to
his vague lnotio-r o- innmensity, and to make telerol fly comprehensible: 1tu"  Nouis'hul- otherwise be beyond the leaIit of his
faculties.  TEhs  co.Tvi:tion of the existence oif a gov,0,'~nor of
the universe very  atuolly takes possession of himl;  the notion of roSyyalty, as thiE impersonation of the state, is thrust
upon him with aniar y equal force.
In a repu.able men ail descend into the plain; thely are no
loDnger  Verpeonvrp owee   - the iindistinct notion of in ) e, Insity.
The undler.starzin:rg?:a~:~ the ascendancy, and they ai'; a- tbled
to form  moire jxlst, lti'ons on all subjects.  WThile, -: ig'ion,
which was at flt; ta- te  oeauture of impulse, and thereifsi' easily
fabricated into.     asome'olr-an of superstition, becomes hti;!, more
rational arnd nmotr      i-t.  In like manner theyare t"'aei:tr able
to saurve  calml y, c.iid one by one, the muen and thi:':."  which
make up th e gorea,,co":l-iunity in which they live. TiiU  feeling
does not leaIe tn -ea iti rely; but it now becomes soL. M:rvient
to very impnorta;:f-t   1 a; nd is made to promote theiL ian interests acs mi aEl Ei a"' s.   Each individual has ti!e' $.cilse of
personali  hi,:" em'*zi.'<i   -ot merely as applied to hi i;:l,  but
as appl ld t o -a!l ot:C-'- i'ndlividuals, more and more -  eji, essed
upon l1ime1, Leuste a t  >.i   int from which he now vi(h:.-' —  everything, is mo-e lavoril,!e to  cool analysis, and to set1-t,';i everything in it 1    roit  r li hl t-.  But the reverberation of i-' a'uthoity from witheot st;ill xeaehes him.  He hears of:illions of
17




258               NATURE AND TENDENCY                  [BOOK o I.
other people who are associated with him under the same government. Of these millions perhaps he never saw a thousand,
perhaps not even an hundred. The existence of those beings9
on that very account, makes a profounder impression upon his
mind.  On an analysis, perhaps, it will be found that it is the
notion of immensity which is gained by the view (the more indistinct the more imposing) of a vast population, which serves
to cherish and to uphold the notion of royalty.  The king is
regarded as the special representative of that vast population.  He becomes the state itself; so that if we can give to
the terms "state," "people," sufficient unity, republican rule
will exercise as potent an influence over the imaginations of
man, as monarchical rule.
Doubtless, it would be as impossible to, create the rule of an
hereditary monarch in the United States, as it would be to
carry physical science back to the condition in which it was
before the time of Bacon; and for precisely the same reason.:?'r want of a rational system of experiment; and observation
~F':enomena the most simple, and the most easily explained
noww, were subjected to the most crur.de and fanciful  speculaticus.,Superstition. reigned over physical, as it tiill does in
manly parts of the worldl. over political science, Actual exp3e- rLment and:observation have dissolved the superstition in
the:first instance; and it is possible that the sturdy good
seans of the nineteenth centujry will go a great way toward
undemnining it in the  a.st.  The doctrine of oecenlt causes
was tpreisely akin to the political illusion of whlich I have.spoke~nA-iXhere Ithe people are im mersed in ignoranse, they feel
themselves incapacitated to take any part, even the most indirect, in public affairs. This feeling cannoH-t No shlaken off;
for; knowledge is powe.r, in every department of  umtan life;
and wherever there is ge.t ignorance, the desir' ard  the
power to will effettually are both wantitg.            sthi  stte of
tjhings, for the time beiiag at least, witehdi.-.as, anl political
powec  freom'the masses, and reposes it in the L'Tdo 1  of those
-who, either by rank or education, are lifted to;a hlhlher condition.  Power is thus transfoerIed easily, aind with:-P-rt ntoise or
-violence, to a very small p'ortion of society'. LBt wh.liever a,set of institutions come to r epresent the opinionus,..oid feelings




CHAP. V.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 259
peculiar to a class, those opinions and feelings will not be understood by those who are out of the class. The modes of
thinking and acting among the former will begin to wear an
air of mystery which time will only increase, until at length
the whole machinery of what are termed great affairs, will be
absolutely unfathomable by the multitude.
The great men will then begin to quarrel among themselves
for the mastery. The most warlike, or the most crafty, will
obtain it. In the event of a vacaney to the succession, he will
possess himself of the crown. A  new revolution will then
take place. Before, the high places in the government, and
the lustre which surrounded them, overpowered the imaginations of the people. They paid a sort of instinctive obedience
to -the prince; which is the same as to say, that a great power
had risen up in support of the throne. Now, also, it is not
agains t the assaults of the people that, he stands in need of
protection, for they are already overawed; it is against the
assaults of the other great men. But the same sentiment of
obedience, so undefined, and yet so enthusiastic, constitutes
an impregnable barrier against those assaults also. The great
men in the state soon discover, that although out of their own
limited circle, nothing is understood concerning state affairs,
yet that this very ignorance has given birth to a power which
none but themselves have to fear. As soon as one of their
number is made chief-as soon as he is fairly seated on: the
throne, the reverence of the multitude is directed toward him,
and withdrawn from all others. The spell even begins to takee
possession of their own ranks. A sentiment of superstition
in one part of society is converted into an universal conviction
of right. The throne is fortified from within and without; it
is' equally guarded against the violence of the multitude, and
the conspiracies of the nobles.
in the progress of time, it may be a very long period, the
mnnliber of those who are placed in independent circnlmstances
wi1i be greatly augmented. Rich landed proprietors, great
meEchaints, and olpulent manufacturers spring up; and this
wvil give birth to a new class, formed out of interatlar1riages
between the famiiies of the nobility and those of rich commoners, and which is denominated the gentry. Still la.ter,
education is extensively diffused; the press, although it should




260              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOK II.
be under some restraint, spreads intelligence; a higher and
wider civilization takes place. A popular branch is added to
the legislature; or if one already exists, greater influence and
authority are conferred upon it. A  remarkable crisis now
occurs. The lustre which surrounds the throne seems to be
more dazzling  than before. Notwithstanding the spread of
intelligence, and the general elevation of the popular mind,
its power appears to be firmer and mnore durable than ever.
The class of the rich and influential have been swelled to a
great magnitude, and this class, for the most part, lends its
support to the throne rather than to the people.
Patronage, which supersedes the rough and irregular exercise of power, gives the monarch great influence among this
elatss. Offices are multiplied in proportion as civilization advances. And in addition to all this, great numbers of people
among the middle class, fearing more from  the turbulence
and licentiousness of popular freedom than from the exercise
of the royal prerogatives in a limited monarchy, array themselves on the side of old institutions. A great party is for
the first time formed, composed of persons whose opinions are
founded upon the most mature and deliberate reflection. They
would have more -freedom imparted to the institutions of government, if they could only see their way clearly through the
process which leads to it.' They do not believe it can be done
without endangering the whole system. Russia,, and Austria,
may be considered as illustrations of the first period; France,
and Great Britain, of the second. Prussia must be regarded
as trembling between the two.
The second period may be of indefinite duration.  The
country is then filled with wealth and intelligence; civil liberty seems to be secured to all conditions of men; a great
Imiddle class has been created, holding the balance of power
in the state, and yet constantly inclined, whether from temperament, habits of reflection, or views of ambition, to throw
the weight of its influence in favor of the superior classes.
But, inasmuch as reflection has been roused, and a disposition
to thiik and ponder upon the men and inlstitutions which surround them has been developed in a great rultitude of minds,
it is plain that the artificial and unnatural principles on which
goverlnment originally hinged, are beginning to be probed and




CHAP. V.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 261
comprehended, and that the great mysteries of governnmaent,
in order to be unveiled, only wait for an opportunity favorable
to calm and deliberate action. And when this is the case, as
all knowledge is progressive, and even contagious, it will be
difficult to predict with anything like certainty how long thle
institutions will be permitted to stand still, or how soon the
hand of a thorough, and yet judicious and temperate reforrn,
may fall upon them.
When this interesting period has arrived, great numbers of
men will unite, in order to obtain important changes in the
government; associations will be formed with this avowed
design, the majority of whose members will perhaps be composed  of citizens who are politically disfranchised, aand yet
consisting of so large a portion of those who are not, as to
give great weight and authority to the opinions of the whole
body. A majority of that part of the middle  class wlho do
possess political privileges will be roused, and will recoil_ at
every attempt of this new party, until at length the spirit of
reflection, which has silently prepared  the, way to every
species of salutary improvement, has effected a reconciliation
between parties, when much will be conceeded, and yet solme
substantial advantages will be obtained by the great movement party. This revolution will be repeated at successive
intervals, until at length the entire body, of what may be
justly termed the middle class, are adnmitted to the electoral
franchise, and rendered eligible to office, when all further
change will cease, not merely because none other will be wis,1e,
but because the moral force of society will be arrayed in defense of what has been gained, and in opposition to 1any
further change. Before this revolution is accomplished, tlhe
notion, that the middle class comprehends noue but persons
who have an interest in landed estate, will naturally be discarded. The citizens who possess personal property will be
placed upon an equally favorable footing; nay, the rule will
perhaps be made still wider, and every one of good ch aracter,
and who contributes to the support of government, will be
admitted to the electoral franchise. For, so long as any one
of those who go to make up the effective strength of the state
is excluded, government not only commits great injustiee to a




262              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOK II.
numerous class of people, but it deprives itself of a powerful
support to the laws.
There is a fourth period which may occur: one deeply interesting to the cause of humanity, and to the final success of
free institutions. The acquisition of so many blessings, the
enjoyment of such delightful tranquillity, both in public and
private life, may lead to too much repose and inactivity. Sloth
and voluptuousness may overspread the land, and the institutions may fall in the midst of the greatest prosperity. It is
true society will be more completely protected against the
disaster, than at any preceding period. As the distribution
of' wealth will be more equal, the moral force of society will
be better balanced, the means of recruiting the superior ranks
from the classes below them will be mlore abundant than ever.
Still all this may not be sufficient. It may be necessary for
society to go backward, in order again to spring forward. For
the dissolution of an old and worn-out society has sometimes
the eflect of breathing a new spirit into the whole population.
All classes and conditions are then confounded together. The
rich and the powerful are tumbled fromn their enviable position; they are brought down to the level of the obscure and
humble, who now begin to run a new race for all the advanta(es of fortune. This is s a provision inherent in the constitutionr of every community which has become effete with lunxury
and corruption.  There tmay be no way of revivifying the
elements of society, and of imparting fresh vigor to the population, but by passing them  through the ordeal of a terrible
adversity. But the experiment will be quite new, when any
nation shall have traveled to the utmost limit of the third
period. As the institutions will then have' a sort of self-preserving faculty, and will contain powerful antidotes to the
evils just indicated, we do not know whether any further
revolution will be necessary. The high probability is that it
will not; and this is the last term-the final consummation of
our hopess




CHAP. VI.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                   2)3
CIHAPTER  VI.
NOTICE OF THE ENGLISt  CONSTITUTION.
ONE of the most remarkable properties of the English govment, is the faculty which it possesses of accommodating
itself to alterations in the structure of society.  The theory
of the constitution is pretty much the same as it was in the
reigns of the Tudors; but its practical working is -totally different. The social organization lhas undergone a great change
during the last seventy years, and this has made a. deep and
lasting impression upon the political institutions.  The king,
the nobility, and&the ecclesiastical hierarchy; occupy the same
relative position to eacl other; but they do not occupy the
same position toward the people.  This power of adapting
itself to the altered condition of society, is one of the most
valuable qualities which a government can posses.  It is next
in importance to positive changes in the composition of the
government.
The revolution I have spoken of has been silent, but progressive.  It has effected an entlire change in the mlodes of
thinking of all public men, and has wrought a correspondiing
change in the systemI  by which public affairs are conducted.
The prerogatives of the king and aristocracy are the same as
formerly, liut the people have been steadily a.dva3cin)g in
strength and importance; and'how is it possible to employ
power against the powerful? As ti e general improveaent of
the population, and the consequelilt amelioration of the manners, has i-mparted  a new charr acte  to the temper amnd disjposiitions of indlividuals; sO the i-Hnability under which public men
find theniselves, oft exerting even  an aeknowledgedd authority,
renders that authTrity in great piart merely nominal; and the
administration of the government in practice no Ion,,ge agrees
with what the theory imports.
There are only two ways of effecting alterations in the political institutions. The one, is by suddlen leaps; the other, by




264               NATURE AND TENDENCY                 [BOOK1 II.
slow and insensible advances. The first is sometimes attended
with so Imuch violence and confusion, as to endan ger the existence of the entire fabric. The second, although it avoids this
evil, has, nevertheless, a tendency to postpone the most wise
and salutary changes, to a period far beyond that when society
is ripe for their introduction.
*Aontesquieu said of the British government, that it was a
republic in disguise; which shows what inadequate notions
this eminent writer had formed of a republic. But it is not at
all improbable, that it will become at sonme future day, not
perhaps very distant, a relublic in reality, and not one merely
in disguise.  When I perceive the great bulk of the people
growing to the full stature of men; and when I observe that,
in every contest between liberty aud power, the advantages
gained have been constantly on the side of the people, and
never on that of the government; I see causes in operation
which are not only sufficient to bring about this result, but
which seem to lead straight forward to its accomplishinent.
But how it is possible, without sudden leaps, to get beyond
the point which has already been reached.  How in other
words, without ~creati)ng  an universal revolution, can the structure of the government be changed fundt-mentally. It is
through tzhe instrumentality  of that invisible but powerful
agent, which we term  public opinion, that a spirit has been
breathed into the institutions.  B3ut public opinion does not
construct, it only influences antd modifies.  It may, step by
step, and without noise and confusion, qlafect the working  of
the mnachine; but this is very different i'om taking the machine to pieces: very different from abolishing the royal power
and the house of lords, and substituting ill twheir place an3 elective chief mnagistrate and senate.
This is an o)bstacle, andl a formidable one, in every attempt
to alter the composition of an ancient govermen t. Society,
in Great Britain, is ripe fbr the introducttiuon of free institutions, if there were no other system already in existence. The
existence of that other systen, with the vast patronage and
influuce appenlded   to it, has a powerful tendency to counteract the force of public opinion, and renders it a work of infinite delicacy to make any radical alteration whatever.
But the process I have described may continue so long as to




CHAP. I.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                265
give rise to further changes of the same character; and, by
molding the minds of men after a different fashion of thinking, may have power sufficient to overbear the influence of
the throne and aristocracy. In this way, what would have
been an abrupt and violent leap at an early period of society,
may become an easy transition at a more advanced stage.
Everything depends upon the shock which the mind receives.
WVe do violence to the political institutions, only when we do
violence to inveterate habits of thinking. But if old associations are broken in upon, there is no room for committing violence in any quarter. I think it cannot be doubted, that the
footing on which the electoral franchise, parliamentary representation, religious toleration, and the freedom of the press,
now stand in GCreat Britain, would, in the reign of Elizabeth,
have been regarded as a much greater movement, than would
at the present day the entire reconstruction of the executive
magistracy, and the house of lords. Although the second
appears to involve a more direct and positive interference
with established institutions, it does not run counter to the
genius and tenduency of the age: it would therefore give much
less shock to the understandings of men.
It is a remark of Mr. Hume, that there was, in his day, a
constant tendency toward a diminution of the personal authority of the king. This fact has been still more observable
since M3r. Huine wrote. And the reason why it is so is very
obvious. The amiount of real business which falls under the
management of the executive, becomes so vast and rmultifarious with tl.he andvance of society, that no one man, much less a
1ing, can attend  to the one-hundredth part of it. The consequence is, that thie whole of this business has been gradually
transferred to a.n executive board.  So long' as it was possible
to conceal the cause of this change from general observation,
the king continued to retain the dazzling influence which the
vulgar apprehension ascribes to him. But now that this cause
is apparent to every one, the royal and the executive authority
have ceased to be even nominally the sarme. For not only is
the king totalily unable to discharge this huge mass of business; but ministers do not even hold their places at his will.
The direction of public affairs was formerly a very simple concernm  The gratification of the king's pleasures and ambition




266             NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOK II.
comprehended the whole. And although somle share of business talent could not well be dispensed with, yet as public
transactions consisted for the most part of war, negotiation
and intrigue; the imaginations of the people very naturally
figured the lking as incomparably the most prominent actor
upon the stage. But the case is very different now. Intellectual ability, extensive information, indefatigable industry,
are all absolutely necessary to any tolerable success in the
management of public affairs. The English statesman now-adays has to deal chiefly with the interior interests of a densely
peopled and highly civilized community.  \1War, which formerly employed the whole attention of the state, is becoming
a mere episode in its history. It is impossible for any monarch, however ignorant or bigoted he may be, to misunderstand the import and bearing of this great revolution in human
affairs. Wtith regard to the lords, I have in another chapter
alluded to the process which seems destined to bring about
the decay of their power and influence. Wealth constitutes
the soul of an aristocracy. Other qualities may add lustre to
the institution; but it is wealth, exclusive wealth, which gives
it a firm hold, and a commanding authority, in society. But
riches are now obtained by such a multitude of individuals,
that they can no longer be the foundatioi of a p-ivilege. What
was once the chief element of an aristocracy, is now a great
element of popular power. The same causes which conspired
to create an hereditary order, are now at work to enfeeble it.
The English nobility are no longer the haughty and powerful
barons who formerly lorded it over the commons. They are
simply among the most polished and affluent gentlemen of the
kingdom: guarded for the present by a sort of conventional
respect, but no longer wielding a formidable authority over
the rest of the population.
The French have very recently made a fiLdamental alteration in the institution. The peerage is ino longer hereditary.
An event which seventy years ago would hlave startled the
public mind throughout Europe, has been brought about with
as much facility, and has created as little sensation, as an act
of ordinary legislation. It is true, the English nobility are a
much wealthier body than the French. But the English commons are wealthier than the French " tiers etat," in a still




CHAP. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  267
greater proportion. The materials for constructing an aristocracy are more near at hand in England than in France; but
the uses of the institution would seem to be more apparent in
the latter than in the former country.
An aristocracy is of two kinds. It may be so numerous,
and engross so large a share of the landed property of the
country, as to form a component and very substantial part of
the whole population. This was at one period the case in
almost every European state. It has ceased to be so everywhere except in Pussia and Poland; or it may consist of so
small a number, that the only way to compensate for its want
of strength, and to preserve it as a distinct order in the state,
will be to make the entire members a constituent part of one
branch of the legislature. This is the case in Great Britain,
exceplt so far as regards Scotch and Irish peers, a certain
number of whom are elected by their own order to seats in the
house of lords. Scotch and Irish peers are not so numerous
as to prevent their sitting in one chamber, along with the
English peers; but political considerations, growing out of
the union of the three countries, have given rise to o the present
arrau gement.
But where a nobility compose so very small a part of the
population, and yet are endowed with such extensive political
authority, the incongruity between the natural influence which
belongs to them, as well-educated gentlemen, and the artificial
privileges heaped upon them, must strike every one of the least
reflection, no matter how familiarized he may have become
with such a state of society. To remodel the institution, therefore, or to dispense with it altogether, would do no violence,
would cause no disturbance to the public tranquillity.  As the
change would be strictly in accordance with the ideas of the
age, a'nd would but second a movement which is in full progress, so it would affect but a mere handful of men. And there
are probably no persons in the British empire more observant
ofthle course of events, more thoroughly convinced that the
day is approaching when it will be impossible to oppose their
authority, even nominally, as a counterpoise to the commons,
than the nobility themselves.
While the active political authority of the king and nobility
has been gradually decreasing, that of the commons has been as




268              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOlK I.
constantly advancingo The same cause, the dispersion of knowledge and property, has produced these opposite effects. But
as the people rise in -the scale of intelligence (even though we
confine the meaning of people, to that powerful body called the
middle class), in proportion as they participate, although indirectly, in the affairs of government, they are brought to a
clearer understanding of everything which appertains to the
machinery of government; and have a closer insight into the
character and motives of all public men. Things which were
before regarded as mysterious in the highest degree, and which
were never approached without a feeling of awe, are now
handled and touched, and become thoroughly familiar to common apprehension. Wealth originally gave privileges to a few
hundreds; but it has now given intelligence to the million,
and this enables the commoner to stand upon something like
an equal footing with the nobleman. Men are never cable to
take exact gauge of each other's dimensions, until they are
made to stand side by side of one another; when those qualities, which were before so much magnified by the mist through
which they were seen, assume their due proportions; and the
individual man is valued more for what he possesses, and less
for what he can make display of. The characters of public
men appear grand and colossal, only in consequence of the illuminated ground on which they are exhibited.
There is one branch of the British legislature in which very
great alterations may be made, conformable with the genius
of the age, without immediately affecting the absolute theory
of the government; although these alterations may ultimately
disturb the whole balance of the constitution, and lead by an
easy transition to fundamental changes in the structure of the
government. The house of commons is elected by the people,
but to what extent it shall be the genuine representative of the
popular will, depends upon the high or low qualifications of
the members, and the restrictions imposed upon the electoral
franchise. If the qualifications in both instances were lowered,
the lpower of the people would rise in proportion. Now there
is an evident tendency in that direction at the present day.
The reform bill, which is one of the most memorable acts of
the Br-itish parliament, has gone a great way toward altering
the relative influence of different parts of the government.




CI-IAP. VI.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                269
But the achievement of one reformation renders the necessity
of others more easily discernible, and very frequently paves
the way for a change of the greatest magnitude, which had not
before been dreamed of. The basis of representation, in all
human probability, will continue to be enlarged, until the
house of commons has acquired such a preponderant weight,
as to make every one see the extreme incongruity of as legislative body, which fairly represents all the substantial interests
of the state, standing in intimate connection with two institutions which have no immediate dependence upon the public
will. It is true the concurrence of the house of commons will
be necessary to any further reform of parliamentary representation. Indeed the laws, which are designed *to effect that
object, must be supposed to originate in the popular branch.
And it may be said, that it will be the evident interest of the
members to oppose every plan by which the field of competition for their own seats shall be widened, or by which the
numbers of their constituents shall be so multiplied as to
render them  less easily manageable, by either intrigue or
bribery. These considerations did not prevent the passage of
the act of 1832. Public opinion, when it has acquired a certain amount of strength, acts upon the mind with as much
force, and as absolute certainty, as the most powerful motives
of self-interest. The temper and dispositions of men become
inflamed, as well as their understandings enlightened. The
new fashion of thinking becomes contagious, and takes possession of society, without any one being aware whither it is
carrying him. Indeed the causes which lead to any great
changes in the structure of society, are never under the immediate control of men. They determine the will, instead of the
will determining them.
It is through the operation of a great many causes the diffusion of knowledge and property, the growth of public opinion,
the creation of a great middle class in society, and the giving
to the representatives of the people a distinct voice and commanding influence in the legislature, that the public mind may
be irresistibly conducted to a change in the fundament al laws,
by which the officers of every department of the government
will be rendered strictly responsible. There is no good reason
why the chief magistrate and the senate should continue to be




270               NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOI II
hereditary, when the popular body has become so numerous
and so powerful, as to swallow up the distinction of classes.
The creation of a king and nobility may be said to have been
originally owing to the inordinate influence which the imagination exercises over the minds of men, at an early stage of society.
But reflection, the most striking characteristic of the Iresent
age, is a wonderful extinguisher of the imhagination, in all
affairs of real life.
It must be admitted that the principle of virtual representation, which is incorporated into British institutions, has been
more successful than in any other government which has existed. But even if it were possible to perpetuate the system,
it has many intrinsic defects. The great advantage of actual
representation consists in its fixinD the attention of all classes
upon the conduct of public men. It thus initiates the people
into an acquaintance with the practical working of the systenm,
and founds their attachment to government upon their interests.  Virtual representation is without these advantages.
However powerful public opinion may be, and although it
may prevent acts of injustice in the gross, yet it cannot reach
them in detail. The system of public measures, and the conduct of public men, are made up of an infinite number of acts,
each of which may be inconsiderable, and yet the aggregate
of incalculable importance.  W\Then the rulers of the state are
not subjected to a strict accountability, they become a, law to
themselves; they create a standard of opinion withil their
own circle, which necessarily weakens the force of that general opinion, whose office it is to watch over the actions of all
the functionaries of government. It is true there is a species
of adventitious authority attached to all human institutions
which, after all, must come in for a very large share in the
government of mankind. But the American experiment has
demonstrated that free institutions possess this qlality,, to as
great exten.t as either monarchy or aristocracy. The popular
mind clothes all the symbols and insignia of a legitiliat e~ atuthority, with the same sort of veneration and respect vhich
contribute to uphold the artificial forms of governrnetm;.
There is one circumstance which might be supposed to
stand in the way of all interference with the fuandamental
laws, and to prevent any alteration in the existing theory of




CHAP. V'.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                    271
the government.  The middle class are, in effect, the governing class in Great Britain.  By them  everything must be
done.  And it may be insisted that, when this class reflect
upon the perfect security which they now  enjoy, they will be
unwilling to exchange it for an untried state of being; that
they will be more strongly impressed, with the advantage
which a system  of institutions, in part artificial, has in producing domestic quiet, and inspiring an instinctive obedience
to the laws.  They may fear that all industrious occupations,
which now confer comfort and independence upon them, may
be interfered with, if they give countenance to any flrther
changes, no matter how just, and how beneficial in many respects, those chanres may be.  In short they nay be con'vinced, t'hat if'royalty and aristocracy are evils, they are at
any rate necessary evils in the government of an ancient society.  There is, no doubt, force in these considerations: but
they presuppose, and rightly too, a high degree of reflection
among that class;  and it is this reflection which, on the one
hand, constitutes a, guarantee against the mischiefs which are
apprehended; and on the other, is a sure presage of very
material chalnges in th-e structure of the government. These
changes will only he postponed to a period when they will
cease to be regarded as a revolutionary movement, and will
appear to be a natural transition of the insttitutions into a
position afulready prepared for them.  They will be preceded
by a very important measure: one which will place all the
members of the middle class upon the same footing, and give
them  all an eqnal voice in the government.  For, although I
have represenaed thIe middle class as holding the balance of
power, yet it is not the entire body, but only a part, which
possesses this infiLe~nee. 3Not all the middle class are comprehended in the list of voters.  The qualifications of electors
might descend dnmIl: i1,`. lower, and take in a very -numerous and
substeatial p —,i;,,;; t; lhe population which is now  left out.
Moreover, tlIh  ),.-i>:;ion of personal, as w:lil  as real and
leasehold  p)ro}-p'i-X;, 9    i eght be made a qmueltifi  tion.  When
these two melt,~:, i-':'~i, s-:) natural and so easy (ef' adoptiol, are
actually acc,i! }:,v   the danger to societiy will no longer
seemU to cont: is -i f tU l-ii-ing down a part of the g',)vernment, in
order to reco::t:.'ttli,; but' rather in permitting it to stand




272              NATURE AND TENDENCY                 [BOOK II
as it is, not representing the popular will, and yet the popular
will possessing all power and authority.
As I have already remarked, there is no class of men who
have a more distinct appreciation of the very general progress
which knowledge, industry, and morals have made among the
English people, than the nobility themselves; none which is
more thoroughly sensible of the goal whither things are tending.
lMixed government, of which the English is the most complete model, proceeds upon the principle, that there are two
permanent classes in society whose interests are opposed to
each other: the higher and lower orders. It proposes, therefore, to secure a distinct representation to each, so that the
two shall act concurrently, and yet each possess a veto upoxn
the acts of the other. The legislature is divided into two
chambers; one composed of an order of nobility, the other of
deputies of the people. In addition to this, an hereditary
monarch is placed at the head of the system.  And it may be
asked, where is the necessity of this arrangement, when the
great bulk of the population are already represented:  It is
in consequence of the mixed character of the population. In
a representative republic, the composition of society is exceedingly uniform: there is no order of nobility; a character of
consistency and homogeneity is impressed upon it fiom the
beginning. But in a state differently constituted, there must
be some additional contrivance, in order to give this character
of unity to the whole government. It is supposed  that an
hereditary monarch, holding his title independently of the
two great classes, will answer this purpose. It may even be
supposed that he will answer it better, in a highly advanced
state of society, than in one which has made little progress in
knowledge and refinement.  In the form er, both classes are
powerful; in the latter, the nobility alone are so. In the first,
he will be not merely disposed, but compne!ed to act as arbiter
between the two orders; in the last, he w1ll endeavor either
to render the nobility subservient to his desigls, or, ftiling in
this, he will be engaged in a perpetual coii-tliet with them. In
either event, the interests of society would be elndangered. It
is not surprising, therefore, that nations wlhich have made
great progress in cultivation, and among wshom knowledge is




CHAP. VI.]        OF FREE INSTiTUTIONS.              273
widely diffused, should obstinately cling to the office of king,
long after the state of society in which it originated has
passed away.
There is an additional reason for the continuance of the
institutions in an advanced state of society. The popular
class itself becomes divided into two great classes, the middle
and the plebeian class. Each of these grows in magnitude as
the society advances; so much so, that the order of nobility
loses its original character as a component part of the society
although it retains its place in the government. The great
object now, is to bridle the unruly and licentious habits of the
plebeian class; and the authority of a king, added to that of
the nobility, is thought to be necessary for that purpose. If
the power of the nobility had not declined, there would be no
danger of their using the plebeian class, in order to curb the
independence of the middle class. But the fact that they
retain their place in the government, while their personal
authority is diminished, enables them, in conjunction with the
commons, to exercise just so much influence as is necessary
to check the encroachments of the plebeian class. An invasion of the rights of the commons, now that these have become formidable from their wealth, would be an invasion of
their own, unless they could make the whole body of plebeians instrumental in designs against the middle class. But
this they are disabled from doing. And as the king was at
first entrusted with the sword, in order to keep peace between
the nobility and the people, he is now entrusted with it, in
order to keep peace between the two orders into which the
people itself is divided. The standing army of Great Britain
is kept up solely for this purpose. It is part of the system of
internal police, only designed for the whole kingdom, as the
constabulary force is designed for a town or county. There is
this difference, however, between the old and new order of
things. In the first, there was danger of encroachments of
the nobility upon the people, and of the people upon the nobility. In the last, the danger apprehended is all on one side;
it is of encroachments of the plebeians upon the middle class.
May there not, then, be danger in the further progress of society, of an oppressive exercise of power as against the lower
classes? If all other orders, king, nobility, and commons, are
18




274              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOK II.
leagued together against them, may they not ultimately be
driven to the wall, and one-half of the population be subjugated to the other half?  But in truth, the change is highly
favoranble to great moderation in all parts of the society. Instead of a powerful patrician class, and a handful of commoners, we have a handful of patricians, and a vast body of
conimmoners. Power has been displaced from  the position it
formerly occupied.  The influence of the middle class has
been prodigiously augmented, and that of the nobles proportionally diminished. Not only has power changed hands, but
the new power which has risen up is of an entirely different
character from that which it has superseded. The commons
are too feeble, singly, to embark in any schemes detrimental to
the public interests; they are too numerous to imake it an object to do so. But their strength in the aggregate, enables
thein to exercise a decisive influence, and authority, over
other parts of the society. The intervention of the nobility
in the disputes between the commons and the proletarians,
has ceased to be necessary. For, lst, there is a stronger bond
of connection between these two classes than between the
nobility and the plebeians. 2d, the exercise of force in the
name of the commons is productive of less exasperation than
its exercise by the nobility. The great use of the commons at
present, is to temper the power which the nobility might be
disposed to exercise against the plebeian class. 3d, as the
popula.tion has become more homogeneous, since the decay of
the personal authority of the nobles, it is a system of general
order which is now sought to be preserved; and that end is
best attained where the authority which presides over the
public welfare, represents the general will of the community,
and not merely the particular interests of a class.   7hen
political: power was very nearly divided between the nobility
and the commons, it was necessary, in addition to the means
which each possessed for protecting its own interests, that a
third power, an hereditary monarch, should be instituted to
prevent any excess of power by either of the conflicting
orders. And when the popular body becaXme divided into
two classes, the intervention of this third power was still
deemed necessary, in order to compose their dissensions. But
when in the further progress of society, the middle class en



CHAP. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                275
tirely overshadows all others, and absorbs all influence, and
all effective power, the personal authority of the monarch is
also enfeebled. It is then that a government in which the
commons are represented by an executive magistrate, and two
chambers in the legislature, becomes abundantly strong to
quell insurrection, and insubordination to the laws. - The experiment of the American government is full of instructon on
this subject. The utmost vigor and decision have been displayed by both the federal and state governments, in suppressing tumult and disorder. A governmeot which knows
that it represents the opinions and interests of the great body
of the people, is necessarily a strong one, and goes straight
forward to its end, without any of those misgivings which
perplex the holders of a less legitimate authority.
Mixed government, then, may be described as the transition
state from pure monarchy to representative government. We
must not consider it as the form in which the institutions are
destined to be permanently cast. The most eminent English
statesmen of both parties are accustomed to pronounce it the
best without any qualification.  But there is a wonderful proclivity even among the most enlightened minds, to believe
each step in the progress of society to be the best, and the
final step. This law of our nature is not without its use.
Each step may be one of indefinite dluration. It is important,
therefore, to render it popular, so that society may not go
back, instead of moving forward. The force of public opinion
is thus arrayed in favor of each successive advance; and when
further change becomes desirable, society is prepared for it, by
reason of the progress it has already made. And this leads to
other and still more important views in relation to this matter.
For a considerable period prior to each step in advance, there
is a general fermentation among the minds of men, New opinions and doctrines are freely discussed, and resolutely proclaimed. A close observer of English society at the present
day, one who has noticed the wide extent to which liberal
opinions are circulated among all classes, will find more cogent
reasons than those suggested by mere theoretical propriet;y,
why the existing form of society is not destined to last forever.
If popular intelligence and power continue to mlake tmuch
further progress, it will be impossible to preserve the senti



276             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II
mtent of monarchy and aristocrcy in its pristine force. It may
be supposed that the commons will be disposed to uphold the
existing frame of government from a conviction that it is the
best on the whole: and undoubtedly in this event it will be
maintained. But what shall we say, if among that very class,
opinions of an opposite character are widely diffused. The
commons may battle against the opinions of any other class,
but they cannot make war upon their own. What is now the
subject of frequent discussion will become matter for familiar
every day conversation. The principles which hold together
the old fabric are already shaken, but the blows will be so constant, that it may ultimately be undermined. An illusion of
the inmagination cannot be kept alive by reasoning upon it,
when the creature of the imagination becomes himself the
reasoner. A close body, like the ancient priesthood of Egypt
and Hindostan, might persuade others to accept their impostures, but they never accepted them themselves. And whenever any error or imposture is thoroughly penetrated by the
popular mind, it is sure to be assailed on all sides, until it
loses its force upon the imagination. When the secret can no
longer be kept, because so many are let into it, there is an end
of its influence upon society. A profound and original writer,*
in exposing the unsoundness of what is termed " the development hypothesis," remarks, that it is impossible to travel by
railroad, or by steamboat, without hearing the freest discussion of this question. If a doctrine so abstruse, and so far
removed from the ordinary pursuits, and speculations of men,
has become the subject of bold and unreserved discussion, it is
not surprising that political questions, which however abstract,
are mingled with all the affairs of men, should be made the
subject of general and familiar conversation.
In that form of society to which I have supposed the present
current of events is tending, it will be unnecessary to disturb
the question of universal suffrage. Every department of government in the United States was representative before universal suffrage was introduced. A moderate qualification for
the exercise of the elective franchise would-be consistent with
the interests of that great body denominated the commons or
* "Footsteps of the Creator."-By H. Miller.




CHAP. VI.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               277
middle class, but the artificial structures of king and nobility
will be entirely inconsistent with those interests.
The system of patronage which has taken such deep root in
the British government, depends for its existence upon the institutions of king and nobility. There is no subject which has
more deeply engaged the attention of enlighted men in that
country, ever since the memorable resolution introduced into
the house of commons in the early part of this century, that
the influence of the crown has increased, is increasing and
ought to be diminished. It has exercised the minds of great
numbers who had hitherto kept aloof from such speculations.
The black book of England, a work of unimpeached authority,
lets us into an acquaintance with the curious machinery by
which this patronage is so wielded, as to enable a small number to domineer over the great body of the people.- I shall
notice a few instances only: 1st. Almost all offices in the
West Indies, both civil and judicial, are discharged by deputy,
the principal residing in England. 2d. Pluralities exist to an
enormous extent, both in state and church. 3d. Nine hundred
and fifty-six pensioners and placemen receive the immense
sum of ~2,788,907. 4th. Sinecures exist for life, with reversions sometimes to persons in the cradle, to the amount of
~1,500,000. 5th. Many offices even in Great Britain, are discharged by deputy. 6th. From the returns of 1833, there
were sixty members of the house of commons, holding offices
and receiving emoluments from civil appointments, sinecures,
etc., exclusive of eighty-three holding naval and military commissions. And there are so many as eighty-five members who
enjoy church patronage.  7th. The vast patronage of the
church, of which the king is head, and to the principal offices
in which he appoints. 8th. The firm and irresponsible tenure
of the whole body of civil officers. The power which this confers, the important agency it has in binding to the crown a
vast organized corps, interested in upholding all sorts of abuses,
is equally evident.
The patronage of the American president is not only small
in comparison with that of the British king, but is of a totally
different character. Real duties are annexed to all the offices,
which are dispensed by the former. If the president appoints
with a view to his re-election, the influence emolument con



278             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
ferred on the persons app6inted is inconsiderable. The tenure
by which he holds his trust is short, so is that of his appointees. Both are placed on their good behavior from a consciousness of the insecurity of their places. But the king has an
army of officers for life; for not one in twenty go out on a
change of administration. The fluctuation of offices in America is a source of security to the institutions, independently of
the good effect it has in introducing so large a part of the population to an acquaintance with public affairs. The displacement of a number of civil officers in the United States is simply an application of the principle of rotation, which takes
place in the election of the president himself. The blind and
arbitrary rule of the choice by lot, is superseded by one which
is clear and intelligible. RIemovals may undoubtedly be made
from improper motives; and I know nothing which would impart to political affairs so lofty a character, as that all the
good which is done to society should be done from perfectly
pure motives. If this cannot be accomplished, the next thing
most desirable, is to make sure that the good should at any
rate be performed. The great principle in the American government is, that power should never be conferred on the best
man, which in the hands of the worst would be liable to abuse.
Hence the rule which establishes a moderate tenure of office
for the executive and members of the legislature; and the same
rule runs through the appointment of all the subordinate administrative officers. If I were asked what is the secret spring
which actuated the leaders of parties in the United States, in
the selection of a president, I should say it was the desire to
elect the man who was most approachable. Men of moderate
talents are much more so than men of superior endowments.
But from the choosing men of moderate talents, and of unexceptionable character, flow a great number of consequences
which are of inestimable advantage. A patrician class is dispersed, as soon as it shows itself, while the power of the middle class is strengthened.and consolidated. And with the frail
materials we have with which to erect government of any kind,
or under any circumstances, we can never do so well as by reposing the political power with that class chiefly.
English writers speak of the ease with which their government sustains an enormous patronage. But it would be more




CHAP. vi.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  279
correct to speak of the ease with which a well org~anized s.v stern of patronage may be made to sustain government.  For
what is it we intend, when we speak of the ability of monarchical government to sustain patronage. It simply means
that the system of patronage is so firmly fenced in —so thoroughly supported by the rich and powerful-that it becomes
a self-perpetuating institution, producing quiet, beca;use it
stifles, without removing discontent.  The feature which  is
most calculated to produce alarm, is the very thing which
hides the Vices ot the system from view.
The corrupting influence of patronage is less in a republic
than in a monarchy.  1st. Because the power aund emoluments bestowed are greatly inferior.  2d. Because t;hLey are
so insecure. 3d. Because real duties-duties which demand
unremitted attention and industry-are attache(l to l3i ofifices.
4th. The candicdates are greatly more numerous in popular
than in nmonarchical governments, so that the people exercise
a perpetual check upon each other. 5th. The list, of pu)blic
offices is exceedingly diminutive when compared w!itht the
number of the electors. 6th. The multitude disappointed,
and interested in voting against the' chief magistrate, when
he-is a candidate a second time, is so much more forunidlable
than that of the appointees.  These circumstances render the
mischiefs of patronage in a representative republic, rmuch less
than the theory of such a government would lead us to suppose. The executive dispenses offices to the people, and to
the people he is indebted for his election. Yet this patronage
is comparatively impotent in securing his re-election. The
number dissatisfi(d, in conjunction with the still greater number who have no expectation of obtaining office, is so immense
that it is doubtful whether one chief magistrate isn iten will
be re-elected. The practice of electing for one term hnas grown
up since executive patronage has been vastly enlarg,,ed.  It
may be supposed that the public interests will be endli-:ngered
by not re-electing an officer who has already acquired a competent knowledge of public affairs. But in proportion as the
institutions of a, country are matured and perfected, le-ss talent is requisite for conducting them.  Public business be.comes organized into a regular system, and little is left for
the incumbent, unless he has the temerity to de)art fro0m that




28&              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK II.
system. To the stability of office is substituted the stability
of a complicated system, easy to administer, and yet difficult
to break in upon.
I have observed that the system  of patronage in Great
Britain contributes mightily to strengthen the power of the
king and aristocracy. But there are some circumstances
which, independently of the growing authority of the commonalty, have a contrary tendency, and not the less so that
they are of a more hidden character, and act silently and imperceptibly upon the government. That the defects of a government should gradually lead to an alteration in its structure, will not appear surprising, but that its excellencies
should have the same effect, is still more surprising, and would
not be apt to strike the mind of any but a close observer. A
very great change has taken place in European society in very
modern times, in the habits and manners of what are called
the superior classes. Formerly crimes, and every species of
disorder, were committed by the men who belonged to those
classes, fully as much as by those who filled the inferior ranks.
In moldern times, and more particularly in Great Britain, outrages against life and property are almost entirely confined
to the lowest walks of life. This change in the manners, is
one reason why society is so much more easily governed than
formerly. Crimes are now strictly personal, and are no part
of the habitual conduct of the governing class. This, to all
appearance, confers a great advantage u,_on that class. It
does so in reality, for a very considerable period. It evidently
gives popularity to the government of that class, and wins
over to it the obedience of all other orders. But it is also
evident that the more the manners of the higher ranks are
likened to those of the middle class, the greater is the authority amd influence which the last acquire. The middle class
in England and Scotland, are more distinguished for energy,
sagacity, and information, than any other class during any
period of European history. That the substantial excellencies of their character should be copied by those who wield
so much political influence, is not so much a compliment (for
with that we have nothing to do) as a recognition that that
class have certain elements of public and private virtue,
Which, when they have full play, make up the whole of pub



CHAP. vi.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               281
lie and private prosperity.  But if these are the qualities
most essential, both in public and private lite, they are the very
ones which are the best fitted to govern mankind. And as
the commonalty are a numerous and powerful body, and the
aristocracy a small one, it may happen that the whole eftective authority of the state may slide, not from any set purpose or preconceived design, but insensibly and quietly, into
the hands of the former; and then it must be admitted, it
would not be a work of great difficulty so to change the institutions, as to make their outward form correspond with the
genius which animated them.  Perhaps it would be more
correct to say, that it would not only not be difficult, but
that it would be the end to which society would straightforward tend, as not only the most natural, but as affording,
in the altered condition of the social organization, the most effectual means of giving strength and stability to the institutions.
There is another circumstance which is calculated to arrest
our attention. A great change has taken place in the manners of the European courts.  The regime, the domestic
police, if I may so express myself, of the princely mansion,
is totally different from what it was formerly. Never were
the manners so thoroughly dissolute, so corrupt, as in the
time of Louis the Fifteenth of France, and Charles the Second of England. Nothing of the kind is witnessed at the
present day. The French revolution of 1789 revolutionized
the manners of the French court, and Napoleon was the
first monarch who introduced something like decency and
propriety in the princely household. The English revolution,
a century earlier, effected the same thing in that country.
The manners which formerly prevailed, and which were supposed to be peculiarly adapted to a court, would not be
tolerated at the present day.
The cause of this great change is evidently to be found
in the power which public opinion has acquired. The prince
and the nobles, who were elevated so high, as to be exempt
from its control, are now made directly responsible to it.
But what has given being to this public opinion?  Evidently
the rise of that great class whom we denominate the commonalty, whose habits of life are for the most part alien
to anything like unbridled licentiousness, and whose num



282              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
bers add great weight and authority to othe new law which is
imposed upon society.  Thus the prince, as well as the
nobleman, finds himself involuntarily copying after the manhers and habits of the middle class. The exterior may be more
refined, but the ground work is the same. This singular
and unexpected consequence, however, follows frome this revolution in the manners. Kingly power, and grandeur, strike
the imagination with infinitely less force than formerly. The
very fact, that the monarch was lifted so high, as to be absolved from all restraint, that he was not only not amenable
to the laws, but not amenable to those conventional rules
which preside over the manners of a civilized society, gave
an imposing air to everything which pertained to his office.
Flow  this should happen, how he who was set so high,
whose conduct should be so just, and his manners so unexceptionable, should be polluted with so many vices, seemed
to be inexplicable; and the fact that it was inexplicable,
imparted additional mystery to the royal authority.  That
so startling a contradiction should exist, and no one be
able to answer why it was permitted, acted like a charm
upon the imagination of the masses.  Kingly power was
not only a great office, but more than that, it was a great
mystery. The heathen mythn ology exercised a sovereign mastery over the popular mind, although the gods iwere tainted
with every species of vice. The human mind could probably
give no other explanation of this anomaly, than that if they
were not lifted so high as to be absolved from all the laws
which govern mankind, they would partake of the character
of men, and would cease to be gods.
Thus, in proportion as princes mend their manners, and
practise those virtues which give dignity to the individual,
in whatever station he is placed, in the same proportion do
they contribute to break the spell which inspired unlimited
obedience among all classes. If to come down to the level of
those homely virtues, which adorn their subjects, has become
the fashion of the day, a fashion not arbitrarily taken up, but
imposed by the irresistible course of events, the notion may
gradually insinuate itself into the minds of those subjects,
that government is not a grand mystery, nor the prince an
impersonation of the deity; that as it is now for the first




CHAP. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 283
time a received maxim in politics that government should be
administered for their advantage, that advantage would be
most certainly attained by the appointment of responsible
agents by themselves. Once a delusion of the imagination is
broken up, men begin to reason; and although I do not undertake to predict what form the institutions will assume an hundred or even fifty years hence, yet there is nothing inconceivable, nothing unreasonable, in the supposition that within
the shortest of those periods, a firm, wise, and vigorous representative government may be established in the British
Isles.
There is, then, a very general conviction that the present
state of things cannet last forever-that royalty and aristocracy cannot stand secure amid the light of the nineteenth
century. When this is the case, the revolution is half accomplished. The middle class at a future day need not say to
the king and his ministers, you may squander the wealth of
the state, provided you will protect us against the assaults
of the lower classes. For they will be able to protect themselves as effectively, and with infinitely less expense; while
at the same time, innumerable abuses and deformities in the
system, which have no other use than to prop up an exceedingly artificial form of government, will be extirpated.




284             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK II.
CHAPTER VII.
THE LEGISLATIVE POWER.
THE great defect of what is termed pure democracy, as distinguished from representative government, consists in this,
that the former is without an established system of laws.
The momentary and fluctuating will of the people constitutes
the law on every occasion; which is the reason why that form
of government is the worst except despotism. Nor does there
at first sight seem to be any reason why there should be any
pre-established ordinances to bind the people, when they assist personally at every public deliberation. Their will constitutes the law, because there is no superior human power
behind them to draw them back when error is about to be
committed.  For error, politically, is out of the question.
Every such assembly is itself a convention of the people. Its
last declaration, as it is the freshest expression of the public
will, is also a full expression of the sovereign power of the
state.
But there is no democratic republic which has existed, in
which the inconveniences, not to say the manifold evils, which
spring from such a scheme of government, have not been felt.
There is not one which has not departed widely from the
theory on which it professed to be founded. Solon drew up a
body of laws for the Athenian state, and Lycurgus one for
Sparta. But this departure from the naked theory of democratic government was not a step taken in favor of representative government. It was the introduction of a capital feature of monarchical government. It was a recognition in disguise of the one man power. Nor was the case very different
with the Roman decelnvirate. Commissioners sent abroad to
make a selection from the laws of other countries, and exercising their own judgment as to what ordinances would be
adapted to the Roman community, is very different from a




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               285
convention assembled among the people for whom the new
code is to be framed, drawing instruction from a deep and
careful survey of the form of society which lay before them,
and suiting the laws exclusively to their domestic interests.
Fortunately for most nations which have been inclined to
establish popular government, the extent of territory has opposed an insurmountable obstacle to carrying out the naked
theory of democratic government, while the extent and diverse character of the population have been equally fatal to
the attainment of a predominant influence by one or two individuals. It becomes impossible for the people to assemble in
mass, and still more so for them to perform the duties which
appertain to an executive and judicial magistracy. This compels the adoption of the principle of representation in every
one of the political departments. Representatives, when convened under this plan as a legislative body, pass laws from
time to time, as the exigencies of society require, until at
length these laws become so numerous, and the chief part of
them so adapted to the leading and permanent interests of
the population, that they lose the character of mere temporary regulations, and are erected into a system of fixed rules
for the government of the community. That is, they acquire
a higher dignity and greater importance than they had before,
notwithstanding they are not passed by the people, but by
the people's deputies. The restrictions imposed upon the lawmaking power increase its solemnity, because they require a
more exact and undivided attention to the duties which appertain to it, than would be possible in an assembly of millions or thousands, convened on one day, and dispersed the
next. For in the first place, in a country of wide extent, and
whose people are fitted for self-government, there will very
naturally, if not necessarily, be a constitutional ordinance,
prescribing the duties of the legislator and the limits of legislation. And in the second place, representatives, acting on
behalf of others, in order to give any intelligible account to
those who have deputed them, are obliged to proceed with
considerable care in the preparation and consideration of bills.
The laws are no longer carried by acclamation, but are conducted through a long and tedious process; aud the language
in which they are expressed is endeavored to be made precise




286             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II.
and perspicuous, in order that the constituent may understand
how the deputy has discharged his duty.
Thus representation, which was at first intended to cure
one defect in democratic government, that is, to facilitate the
transaction of public business, comes in process of time to
cure all defects, by substituting, as nearly as humanly speaking can be done, a government of laws in the place of one of
force. The people are the real law-givers, the members of
the legislative body their agents only; and yet, in consequence of the double machinery which is employed, the laws
are made to reign supreme over the people themselves. For
not only is the passage of all laws attended with certain
solemnities, and published in a form which renders them
accessible to every one; there is another circumstance which
contributes to impress upon them the character of a system.
The greater the number of persons for whom the laws are
made, the greater must be the generality of the rules which
they will contain. It is not difficult to legislate for a small
number of individuals, or for a considerable number collected
in a small space, by particular enactments. But there is no
way of legislating for millions, inhabiting an extensive country, but by very general laws. We then make abstraction of
everything peculiar to the individual, and take account only
of those circumstances in which they all agree.
It is in proportion as the laws acquire this character of abstract general rules, that they are fitted to exercise authority
over the minds of men; and that in proportion as the territory
is enlarged, and the population multiplied, the restraint which
is imposed upon society is augmented. To reconcile a high
degree of freedom with a due authority on the part of government, is one, problem which political philosophers have
proposed to themselves. If we take refuge in monarchical or
aristocratical government, we do indeed arm  the ptublic authority with a mighty power; but it is at the expense of popular liberty. If we have recourse to democratic government,
we do not succeed in introducing a noble and generous f'reedoml into the community, while at the same time we detract
materially from  the authority of the laws. Representative
government, which is then the only alternative, is also the
most natural direction which the institutions can take: the




CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 287
one which promises to answer all the desired ends, as well as
we are permitted to expect.
Government, in order to fulfill the notion of a wise and useful institution, should aimn to connect the private welfare of
individuals with the public good of the state. To lose sight
of the former-to suppose that the proper idea of government
was that it had regard exclusively to public affairs, and took
little account of mnen's private interests, would be to form a
very inadequate conception of it. The political institutions
are an accessary to a great end, rather than tlhe end iteelf. To
permit the various oceuations of individuals to be conducted
with freedom and security, is the final aim to which they
should tend. But. in. the pure form of democratic government,
the legislative, executive, and judicial powers would all be
wielded by the same persons in mass; incumbering every one
with such a multiplicity of public business, that their private
affairs would go to ruin; and the people would cease to be
men, in their efforts to become citizens; when the mlaxim
should be, that iln order to become citizens, it is first necessary
to become mnen. And in such a constitution of society, the
public interests also would fall to decay, as there would be
wanting that concentrated attention which is indispensable to
a skillful management of them. Itepresentation, by applying
the principle of the division of labor to the affairs of government, overcomes these difficulties. By collecting into a general system those rules which are intended to preside over the
common interests, it gives additional authority to the laws;
by abstaining from intermeddling too often aund too minutely
with the actions of individuals, it gives security and contentment to the people.
There is another view equally important. Men, even in the
prosecution of their private business, have separate and selfish interests which they are ever intent upon gratifsing. In
a legislative assembly composed of a vast multitude, public
and priv7av.te interests would be confounded. The elective principle, without in-teinding any such thing, effects a separation of
the two. The ini uber of private ends which are sought to be
gratified,  will be dimniuished as the assembly diminishes; not
only because the nuumber of individuals exposed to the temptation is reduced, but because the power of graticfiation is less.




288             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
With no more wisdom, and fully as much selfishness as the
great majority of mankind, the members of this body are now
placed in a situation where their attention will be more exclusively fastened upon the public inter3sts, and one also which
exposes their conduct more than ever to the scrutiny of other
men. The people say to their deputies, as we are physically precluded from looking after our private ends, we will, in revenge, observe your conduct more strictly. The deputies, on
the other hand, although it may conflict with their private
ends, are obliged to assume a character of earnestness and
of devotion to the public business. They endeavor to place
before themselves a standard of right by which to shape their
conduct. A representative body, in other words, to make use
of a homely phrase, operates as a strainer in separating the
good from the bad qualities of individuals. It brings the
public interests out in bolder relief, and weakens the cupidity
of private person 
An assembly so constituted is eminently favorable to r(flection, not merely among its own members, but among the conmunity at large. The distribution of property and knowledge.
in modern times, has created a wide basis for government to
stand upon. But as it has multiplied the number of persons
who have an interest in public affairs, it has increased the intensity of party spirit. The legislative body has stated times
for convening; it does not meet, like the popular assemblies
of antiquity, on every gust of wind which may blow over the
commonwealth. Between the first ebullition of public feeling
and the time appointed to deliberate, six months or more may
elapse. This interval is eminently favorable to reflection: not
merely because it gives opportunity to so many minds to calculate the consequences of a proposed line of action, -but because
time itself has a sedative influence, and clms the most agitated
passions. Or if we suppose that some event of very exciting
character has occurred, when the legislature is on the eve of
assembling, the set forms of proceeding to which such a body
is addicted, and to which it becomes singularly attached,
enable it easily to postpone the final determination for months,
or even " to the first day of the succeeding session."  The
people willingly acquiesce in this delay on the part of their
deputies, when they would not listen to it in a tumultuous




CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               289
assembly of themselves. The claim to the whole of Oregon
would have been carried by acclamation in a popular meeting,
when first proposed. But as the question had to be deliberated upon in a representative body, whose responsibility was
increased, because they were acting for others, and not merely
for themselves, it was held under consideration for three
years. And the manner in which it was finally adjusted, although so different from what was at first expected, met with
a more hearty and unanimous approval from the American
people, than almost any other public measure which has been
adopted.
Thus representative government is highly favorable, to reflection, both in and out of the legislative body. It no longer
speaks to itself alone, as was formerly the case. So far as
regards the mere form of deliberating, the assembly sits within
the four walls of the capitol. But for all important purposes,
the whole state may be considered as an extension of those
walls. If there is any species of information which is widely
disseminated, it is that which relates to what is transacted in
those walls. This is conveyed not once, and in one form only,
but repeatedly, and in every variety of shape, so as to gratify
the utmost inquisitiveness, and to rouse the attention of the
most censorious observer of public affairs. It has been finely
remarked, that one office which men of high intellectual endowments perform, is to act as instruments of communication
between the intellectual world and society at large. And a
representative body, with all its imperfections, performs a
service of a very similar character.
There is no one circumstance in the history of modern communities, which more strikingly displays the great changes
which have been wrought. in the general structure of society,
than the manner in which business is now conducted in a legislalative body. There was a time, and that not very remote,
when such an assembly did not pretend to deliberate upon, or
in any sense of the word to conduct, the public business in
person, but devolved the whole burden upon a handful of individuals. Thus the Scotch parliament, which was composed of
the three estates of the clergy, nobility, and burgesses, never
sat except on the day of meeting, and the day of adjournment.
On the first, it made choice of a committee, styled " lords, of
1'3




290             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
the articles," which was composed of three persons from each
of the estates. And this committee drew up all the bills, and
transacted the whole business. On the day appointed for the
adjournment, these bills were submitted in mass to the parliament, and were all on that same day either approved or rejected. There was no free, open investigation, no debate, no
account taken either one way or the other, of the serious consequences which might result from the proposed laws. Very
similar was the mode of proceeding in the boasted Italian republics. The law was no sooner proposed, than the votes of
the different orders were immediately taken. It is very easy
to understand, what otherwise seems to be a riddle, how it
came to pass that a legislative body, whether composed of one
or more chambers, sat in one apartment.  As there was no
discussion, none of that bold and inquisitive spirit which now
finds its way into such an assembly; as, in short, everything
was conducted in silence, the several estates or orders might
very conveniently meet in the same hall. The mode of conducting the legislative proceedings in France was even worse
than in Scotland or Italy. Madame de Sevigne, in her letters,
has given a very animated description of the fashion of doing
business. The canvassing the demands of the crown, the inquiry whether any and what taxes should be imposed, was not
made in the legislative halls, but was carried on at the table
of the nobleman who had been commissioned by the king to
preside over the estates, or provincial legislatures; and everything was carried by acclamation.
If there is any danger at the present day, it is of running
into the opposite extreme. But it is better to err on that side.
A superfluity of debate is infinitely better than none at all, or
even than too little. It affords unequivocal evidence of two
things: 1st, that the interests of the great body of the people
have grown to be something; and 2d, that the deputies of the
people are compelled to set themselves earnestly to work, in
order to acquire a competent knowledge of public affairs. In
eveIr  deliberative assembly there are always a few individuals
who stand out prominently above their fellows, and succeed in
fixing public attention. But it would be a great mistake to
suppose, that the speeches of other members, of inferior en-,dowments, were unworthy of notice; that they were to be re



CHAP. VII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                291
garded as empty and prosy harangues. It not unfrequently
happens, that the reputation of a public speaker is not so much
owing to his intellectual power, as to some external advantages. Some men succeed full as much in consequence of
their physical, as of their mental, organization. And one is
often perplexed, on reading the speeches of a leading member,
to account for the fame he has acquired. The speeches of
some other members are as full of good sense, and contain
views as just and as comprehensive. Nevertheless, it is the
fashion to regard these last as intruders into the debate, and
as hampering the public business by their everlasting " longeurs."
It is the population residing beyond the walls of the state
house who in our modern societies constitute the real and
effective audience; and to them a sensible speech is always
interesting, although the voice of the speaker may be unmusical, and his manner ever so ungainly. It was remarked of
one of the most eminent statesmen America has produced,*
that while he sat in the house of representatives, he gave
marked attention to the speech of every member. There was
hardly an instance, he observed, when he did not derive in.
struction, or when new views were not suggested to him, by
the speeches of persons of even inconsiderable reputation.
There was more wisdom in the observation, than would at first
strike the mind. The habit contracted by this eminent statesman, gave him a thorough insight into the workings of other
men's minds, and was one cause of the remarkable intellectual
ability which he himself displayed. Doubtless there is a
reasonable share of egotism to be found in every large assembly of men. But even egotism may sometimes become our
instructor. For as it supposes a desire to obtain the public
approbation, and as that approbation is very insecure, unless
there is substantial merit, the representative, even in his efforts
to attract the notice of his constituents, is obliged to make
himself acquainted with the merits of the questions he undertakes to discuss. And as I have already observed, even if the
speeches are unnecessarily prolix, there is an incidental advantage attending their delivery; they keep the public mind
in abeyance, and contribute by their very defects to cool the
* William Lowndes.




292             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
feelings and mature the judgment. It might be supposed that
the danger would be on the other side; that the country would
be kept in a state of feverish excitement in consequence of the
inflammatory harangues of demagogues. But the day of inflamnatory harangues is gone by, when the competition for
public speaking becomes so great as it necessarily is in a
country of free institutions. Like everything with which we
become abundantly familiar, those harangues pall upon the
appetite, and make us ardently desire to hear something truly
brilliant. In ninety-nine cases in a hundred, the inflammatory
speaker succeeds in inflaming none but himself.
Shall the legislative power be divided? shall it consist of
two or more branches? is one of those questions which the
human mind hardly ventures to debate any longer. Public
opinion everywhere, and in every form of government, except
thbe absolute, has determined it in the affirmative. In the
ancient commonwealths, in the limited monarchies of modern
Europe, and in the United States, the division of the legislature has been regarded as an axiom in politics. An institution
which is founded upon long-established custom, and which has
apparently adapted itself to almost every form of society, has
on that very account a strong claim to respect. This claim,
however, must not be looked upon as absolutely decisive; for
it is a fact of as ancient and as universal notoriety, as any
other which falls under our observation, that the human mind
is wonderfully disposed to accommodate itself to what it finds
to be the established order of things. Here are two principles
set over against each other; a consideration which should
make us exceedingly careful, but which should by no means
dissuade us from a critical examination of the subject.
The distribution of society into classes, was doubtless the
foundation of the division of the legislative body. Where this
classification did not exist, or where the inferior classes occupied an exceedingly insignificant position in the state, the
legislature was seldom a plural body. Thus, in the earlier
stages of English history, the great council was composed of
the wise men, or barons only; holding their seats, not by
virtue of an express authority delegated to them, but by a
tenure as firm, and as independent, as that of the king.
Society, in its rude beginnings is held together chiefly by




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               293
the force of the imagination. Where there is an immense dcisparity in the condition of the upper and lower ranks, where
the first possess nearly all the property, the superstitious reverence which this circumstance inspires, irresistibly invests
them with the legislative authority. But in proportion as
society advances, and a different distribution of property takes
place, whether this is occasioned by the civil wars of the
barons, which crumble their property, or by the growth of
trade and industry, which- raises up an entirely new class, this
superstitious feeling loses its hold upon the mind. The appropriation of nearly all the property by the barons, conferred
upon them  an exhorbitant authority in comparison with the
great majority of the population, and the gradual division of
this property, whether in fee, or in lease, afterward transfers
some portion of that authority to other parts of society. A
class below the nobility makes its appearance, first in the
towns, and afterward in the country, and this class finally succeeds in obtaining a distinct and independent position in the
community. While this new class is imperceptibly growinD
to manhood, the rivalry and disputes between the king and
nobility reveal its importance, and enable it actively to assert
a power which lay dormant before. The people have now got
to be something, because their intervention in the controversies of the day may be turned to account by one or other of
the parties. They now elect their own representatives, and
this gives occasion to another chamber of the legislative body.
But on a further advance of society, the change becomes
more marked and important. The barons dwindle into a mere
handful. They cease to be even virtually the representatives
of the community. Their weight in society is personal, rather
than that of a class. If at an early period their number is
small, this is compensated by their possessing the entire moral
power of the state. -At an intermediate stage their numbers
and wealth are both diminished, but not so sensibly as to deprive them of their claim to constitute a separate branch of
the legislature. At a still later period, their number is not
only reduced, but their wealth becomes insignificant when
compared with that of the aggregate of the population. The
division of the legislative power then loses its'original meaning: it no longer stands upon the same foundation as formerly.




294            NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II.
And it becomes not merely matter for curious, but for strictly
legitimate inquiry, whether the plan shall be preserved. Society may have undergone great alterations, so that, the causes
which led to a particular political arrangement may have
ceased to operate; and yet others may have sprung into existence, which equally demonstrates its utility. Perhaps the
very prejudices which surround an ancient institution, may
help us to ward off some other infirmity to which we will be
exposed in constructing a new system.
In an old and established government there is this difficulty;
the division of the legislature was not the result of any set
design. Society fell into the arrangement at a period when
circumstances controlled men instead of their controlling circumstances. The institution grows into an usage, which incorporates itself with the habits of thinking of every one. This
gives it so firm a hold upon the imagination, that the legislator
hardly feels as if he had power, much less has he the inclination, to interfere with it. In a new society, and new government, the case is different. If there is no regular classification
of society, no subordination of ranks, and the principle of representation is introduced, and yet the division of the legislature
has been copied from older states, its entire want of adaptation
either annuls its influence, or the influence which it has is of
so vague and doubtful an appearance, as to withdraw public
attention altogether from the consideration of it.
De Lalme is almost the only writer who has undertaken to
examine this question.  The reasoning is very ingenious.'i Whatever bars," he says, " a single legislature may make
to restrain itself, can never be relatively to itself;, anything
more than simple resolutions; as those bars which it might
erect to stop its own motions, must then be within it, and rest
upon it, they can be no bars."  This is undoubtedly true, if
the members hold their seats by hereditary right, or where,
being elected, the tenure is long, and the electoral franchise
exceedingly restricted. But where the entire legislative body
is chosen by popular suffrage, and for a limited period, a new
principle rises up and takes the place of those bars, to wit, the
responsibility of the members to their constituents. The condition which De, Lalme was in search of, in order to restrain the
legislature, is then found. The bars are truly without, and




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               295
not within, the body. De Lalme, although investigating a
general principle, confined his attention exclusively to British
society, where, from time immemorial, the distinction of ranks
existed: nor did he frame to himself any just conception of a
commonwealth, where privileged orders had no place, and
where the responsibility of the members shall be so direct and
immediate, as to create an inevitable check upon their conduct.
From this view, it would seem to follow, that the question,
shall the legislature be divided? depends upon the mode of
election, and the tenure of the members; in other words, upon
the provision which is made in the system for giving effect to
the principle of responsibility, and not upon the nature of the
power which is exercised. In most of the European states,
the legislative body is composed of a class of nobles and of
deputies chosen by the people, and as these two orders are
supposed to have contrary interests, each is protected against
the encroachments of the other, by both possessing co-ordinate
authority, and consequently the right to veto the acts of each
other. No such reason exists in a democratic republic. Indeed, one great design of that form of government is to unite
together, as far as is practicable, the different classes of which
society is composed, instead of inventing devices for keeping
them asunder. It is on that very account that the principle
of representation is introduced into every department of the
government. All the members of the legislative assembly are
elected, and the reason is not very apparent why they should
be distributed into two, any more than into three or four
chambers. This incongruity between the institution and a
democratic form of society, may be productive of one or other
of two results. It may give rise to much confusion and inconvenience in the working of the government, or its tendency to
produce that effect, may be neutralized by the otherwise skillful structure of the body: the dead principle may be countervailed by the living one with which it is incorporated. When the
last is the case, the institution degenerates into a mere formal
arrangement, which is preserved simply because it is found to
be part of an old-established system. If no glaring inconvenience is perceived, people very easily persuade themselves that
the institution is not only wise, but that it is an indipensable
part of the machinery of free government.




296              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [nooKI ii.
Other reasons, however, than those I have referred to, may
be assigned for this mode of organizing the legislative body.
It may be argued that, it is calculated to introduce more reflection into the public deliberations than would be the case if the
body were a single one. The United States is the only country
which affobrds much liht upon this part of the subject. So far
as regards the state governments, and I purposely confine myself to them as present, it is by no means certain that experielIce justifies the conclusion. Perhaps, on a very close and
attentive observation, it would be found that the division of
the body has been productive of increased violence and exacerbation, although in ways which are at first calculated to
elude observation; or it may be, that a predominant idea having once taken possession of the mind, its influence is not
easily weakened by all the observation which we have made.
In order to execute this plan of accompanying every legis]ative measure with a greater degree of reflection, it would
seem to be necessary that the mode of electing the two chambers
should be different, or that at least, the terms for which the
members of the two are chosen should be of different duration. In both respects, there is little or no discrimination in
much the greater part of the state governments. In Maryland the senate was formerly elected, like the president of the
United States, by a college of electors. But this feature in
thb, old constitution has been superseded by the ordinary and
more natural plan of direct choice. In Massachusetts, New
Hampshire, North and South Carolina, a property qualification is necessary to entitle to a seat in either house. And the
amount of property necessary for a senator is double that which
is requisite for a representative. But, in the great majority
of the states, no distinction exists. In Virginia a property
qualification is indeed demanded of both senators and representatives, but the qualification is the same in both instances,
and is none other than is required of the electors themselves.
As to the duration of the term; in some states senators
and representatives are elected for the same term. This is the
the case in Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Connecticut, lRhode Island, New Jersey, North Carolina, Georgia, and
Tennessee. In Maryland, senators are elected for six years.
In Delaware, Mississippi, Arkansas, and Illinois, for four; but




CI-IAP. VII.]    OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                297
in these states the sessions of the legislature being biennial,
the four years is equivalent to two terms only. In Virginia,
South Carolina, Kentucky, Louisiana, and Missouri, they are
elected for four years, and the legislature meets annually.
In Pennsylvania, Indiana, and Alabama, they are elected
for three, and in New York, Michigan, and Ohio, for two.
And in these six last states the legislature also sits annually.
The only states in which representatives are chosen for two
terms, are South Carolina, Louisiana, and Missouri.
All this shows an exceeding variety in the mode of composing the two chambers, or at least in the outward form which
they are made to assume; and indicates, morever, that the
notion of giving to senators a more independent tenure than
to representatives, in order to create a balance between the
two bodies, was often entirely lost sight of, and in no two
instances thoroughly, carried into practice. The division of
the legislature was copied from older communities, in which
a regular subordination of ranks existed. But in America,
there was no similar classification of society, and the materials
for constructing an upper house on the European model were
entirely wanting.
In some of the states, candidates for the senate must have
attained a higher age than those for the house. But the distinction in this respect is so small as to create no material difference in the constitution of the two chambers. In no state
does there appear to have been the least design to create a
council of elders. But the scheme of a plural body having
been adopted, it was necessary to give color to it, by dreating
a distinction, however unimportant it might be. Age undoubtedly, in the great majority of men, contributes to extend the
circle of their ideas, and to mature the judgment. It would
be difficult to fall upon any precise rule, applicable to all men,
as there is not only a very great difference in the natural faculties of individuals, but a great difference also in the ripening
of different minds, which possess equal power. Forty-five has
been supposed to be the earliest period at which, in the average
of men, the judgeiment is thoroughly matured, and the knowledge and experience which have been previously acquired,
may be made available to the business of public life. But in
no state, except Kentucky, is a higher age than thirty required,




298             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOKI II.
in order to entitle to a seat in the senate. In most of the
states the candidate need not be more than twenty-five; and
in Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Rhode Island, and
North Carolina, persons who have attained twenty-one years
are eligible to either house. The provisions on this subject
also show how very imperfectly the scheme of balancing one
body against the other has been accomplished. In some respects the age of five and twenty is more unfavorable than
twenty-one. The young man just arrived at majority is apt
to be more diffident, to distrust his own powers more than he
would if four or five years older. At five and twenty we feel
more confidence, a greater degree of self-assurance; even
though there should be less ability to second our efforts. I
am not sure, therefore, but what the constitutions of Rhode
Island, New York, New Jersey, and North Carolina, have
adopted the wisest plan. A man at twenty-one may be both
more discreet, and better informed, than one at twenty-five.
A man at twenty-five is sometimes superior in both respects
to one at forty-five. Instead of establishing an unchangeable
rule, the best plan is to defer the matter to the electors, and
enable them to exercise their judgment in making the selection. Legislation in the United States is not, as in some other
countries, an affair which is exclusively engrossed by the nobility and gentry. It is a matter in which the great bulk of
the population have a deep stake; and in which consequently
they are made to take an active part. Their observation and
experience, although not affording an unerring guide, will
ever prevent them from going very wrong.
There is another feature in which the upper and lower houses
of the American legislatures differ. The last is invariably the
most numerous body. But where the constitution of the two
is in other respects substantially the same, the difference is
little more than arrangement of detail. One can easily conceive of an upper house composed of so few, and of a lower
of so great a number of members, as to create a complete
antagonism  between them. This was the case in the Athenian commonwealth, where the senate consisted of one or two
hundred, and the popular assembly of eight thousand. It was
so, also, in the Roman State, where the senate contained three
hundred, and the comitia of the centuries, or tribes, twenty or




CHAP. VII ]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               299
thirty thousand. But the disparity in point of numbers, as
well as in other respects, is so inconsiderable in the American
states, that if there is any efficacy in an upper house, it is
doubtful whether it is not attributable to the name, rather
than the thing. We call it an upper house; figure it to ourselves as the most dignified body of the two; and thenceforward a firm conviction takes possession of the mind, that it
must perform some office distinct from, and of superior utility
to, that performed by the other house. In the English government, the house of peers is a less numerous body than the
house of commons: the former consisting of four hundred
and thirty-nine, and the last of six hundred and fifty-eight
members. But the different operation of these two bodies,
does not arise in the smallest degree from that circumstance.
It is not the fewness of the number, but the fewness of the
class, which renders the house of peers a totally different body
from the house of commoms. The former represents itself;
the last represents millions. So that if the upper house were
the most numerous body of the two, and yet the constitution
of both was in other respects precisely the same as at present,
the operation of the system would be the same.
Copying after English precedents, the American governments have sometimes sought to establish a difference in the
functions, as well as in the composition, of the two chambers.
Thus, in some of the states, money bills can only originate in
the lower house. This is an arrangement which is obviously
without meaning or utility in the local governments. It has
accordingly been dropped in the constitutions of Connecticut,
Rhode Island, New York, Ohio, Illinois, Michigan, and Arkansas. The members of both chambers are equally representatives of the people, and no very solid reason can be assigned, why any bill should not be permitted to originate in
either. One thing is certain, that notwithstanding the efforts
which have been made to create an artificial distinction between the two bodies, they remain essentially the same. This it
is which constitutes a distinguishing feature of American institutions; that we may vary the paraphernalia of government as much as we please, but it still obstinately persists, in
every one of its qepartments, to be a government based upon
the popular will. In other countries, the different structure




300             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOIK II.
of these departments is occasioned by great diversities in the
organization of society. The difficulty is how to retain these,
and yet to obtain so much unformity in the character of the
population, as to dispense just and equal rules to all men. In
America, this substantial requisite is already obtained, and
American legislators can therefore afford to make experiments as to the mere outward form which their institutions
shall wear. America may copy after Europe; but the great
problem is, can Europe copy after America?
The materials then for constructing an upper house, such as
they exist in Europe, are entirely wanting in America, and I
have doubted (for it is perhaps impossible to pronounce an
opinion absolutely decisive when the question is of taking
down an old, not of erecting a new institution) whether it was
worth while to adhere to the principle of a division of the legislature in the state governments.  The difference, however
slight, in the tenure by which the members of the two chambers hold their seats, causes them sometimes to represent
different parties; and this reflection of opposite opinions lays
the foundation of a spirit of rivalry and animosity, which impedes the progress of business during a whole session. A single body having the public eye intently fixed upon it, and not distracted by the shuffling and the maneuvering of two chambers,
would feel a more thorough, because a more undivided, responsibility to its constituents.  The true office of a minority consists in its influencing, not governing. If tLe legislature consisted of a single chamber,.the predominant party would abstain from those extreme measures which it is now driven to
vindicate, in consequence of the equally extreme measures
which are defended by the chamber of the minority. Each
dares the other to do as it says; each obstinately clings to its
own opinions, because each knows that neither can possibly
be carried, and in this way, both have in repeated instances
endeavored to fly from the responsibility which they owed to
society.
This is the reason why the veto of the governor, on bills
passed by the legislature, has been abolished in nearly all the
American states. That power was at one time supposed to
answer the same purpose as the division of the legislature: to
maintain a salutary check upon that assembly. But experience has demonstrated that it is as well, if not better, to place




CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               301
the legislative body in a situation where it will feel the undivided weight of the responsibility imposed upon it.
It sometimes happens, that although the duration of the
term for which senators and representatives are chosen is the
same, that the two chambers still reflect the opinions of different parties. This circumstance is ascribable to various causes.
Sometimes it is in consequence of the mere difference of the
number of members which compose the two chambers. The
districts in which senators are elected will naturally be larger
than for representatives. And although the qualifications of
the electors may be the same in both, yet where parties in the
state are pretty evenly balanced, a different territorial division will give rise to different results in the selection of the
members. This was recently the case in Tennessee, where
senators and representatives are elected for the same term.
The melancholy spectacle was presented of one house obstinately refusing to go into an election, because, on joint ballot,
the vote would be unfavorable to the predominant party in the
house. It is a striking proof of the soundness of public opinion in America, that where a course of conduct of this character has been pursued, one so alien of the genius of free institutiors, it has terminated in the overthrow of the refractory
party. The ballot box at the succeeding election has converted
the majority into the minority. But in nome of the other nine
states, where the term of senators and representatives is the
same, do I recollect to have heard of such unjustifiable proceedings. This conduct, and other of a similar character, has
been confined to those states where the duration of the "term is
different.
There is one of the American states in which, until recently,
the legislature was composed of a single chamber. This is
Vermont. And it is certain, that in no state has the course
of legislation been more uniformly marked by good sense and
propriety; in none has there been a more watchful attention
to the interests of the people. At an early period, the legislature of Pennsylvania was also a single body. This arrangement was altered before there had been sufficient time to test
the experiment. The brilliant repartee of Mr. Adams in answer to Dr. Franklin, who was in favor of a single chatmber,
captivated the minds of men, and was decisive of the question,




302             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK II.
at a period when the fashion of thinking in America was so
much molded upon European institutions.
De Lalme attributes the wise and circumspect conduct of
the English parliament to its division into two chambers.
But the theory of the constitution was precisely the same in
the times of the Tudors, and Stuarts, as when De Lalme
wrote. At the latter period, England enjoyed a considerable
share of internal tranquillity, because the people, having risen
in importance, had become a sort of make-weight in the government. During the two former periods, the government
was little better than a despotism, and the laws were frequently the most iniquitous imaginable. So great a revolution, the theory of the constitution remaining the same, can
only be accounted for, by supposing that some equally important change had taken place in the structure of society,
and consequently, in the practical working of the government. And this change consists in nothing less than the
gradual elevation of the popular body, and the creation of a
well defined tribunal of public opinion which, impressing its
authority powerfully upon the whole. system, has maintained
each department in its proper place. These are the bars
which have been erected to fence off the encroachments of
the legislative power. The condition which De Lalme demanded is obtained. The bars are not merely without the
chambers; they are without the entire body; and are much
more effectual than any curious adjustment of the interior
mechanicism of the government.
I have, in a preceding chapter, alluded to the very important
balance which is maintained between the government and the
power out of the government; and the British constitution, at
the time De Lalme wrote, and still more at the present day,
affords an instructive example of it. Construct government
as you will, if it is afterward left to itself, and permitted to
command its own motions, the power it wields may be distorted
to any purpose. But if there is a corresponding power-a presiding influence without —which subjects it unceasingly to the
action of public opinion, even a faulty arrangement of the parts
will be corrected. The English chambers no longer encroach
as they formerly did on each other's rights, nor on the rights
of the people; because the popular body has become the first




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                303
estate in the realm, and holds in check, both the king and the
nobility, as well as the commons. This is the simple explanation of the difficulty: and if one born under the Henrys could
rise from his grave, he would be struck with amazement, at
finding that British councils were conducted with so much
more skill and wisdom than formerly; and that public men,
in spite of the selfish interests which fill their bosoms, are
placed under a restraint, from which the most powerful standing army could not deliver them.
In the times of the Tudors and Stuarts, not to go back to a
still earlier period, the legislative power was divided as it now
is. But under those princes, the country was either ruled by
a stern and rigorous despotism, or it was a scene of incessant
broils. At the present day, a species of virtual representation
has been established in both houses of parliament, which, although it falls far short of an actual representation, has had
power sufficient to work a most striking alteration in the
conduct of public affairs.
De Lalme also attributes the remarkable solidity of the
crown in Great Britain, in part, to the division of the legislature. But this is a circumstance which is not peculiar to that
country. The same thing is observable of all the kingdoms
and principalities of northern and central Europe, in some of
which there is no proper legislative body; in some the legislative body consists of a single chamber, and in others of more
than two chambers. The compact and vigorous authority of
the royal power in Russia, Austria, Prussia, Sweden and Denmark, is quite as remarkable as it is in Great Britain, and
affords a strong contrast to the feeble condition of the crown
in Spain and Portugal, in both of which there are two chambers, modeled after the English system.
This singular stability of the royal power throughout the
greater part of the kingdoms of Europe, a circumstance of apparently evil omen to the growth of popular power, but in
reality favorable to it, is mainly ascribable to the fact that the
most absolute monarchs are insensibly accommodating themselves to the new ideas of the age. They are more restrained,
and are therefore permitted to be more secure. A king is
compelled not so much to truck and huckster to the great men
who surround the throne, as to cultivate the good will of the




304              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK II.
people. The close intercourse which now exists between all
the European communities, has created a sort of informal
league between them; and one member, although far behind
some of the others in civilization, is powerfully acted upon by
the institutions which exist in those others. Although the
condition of society is such, that no powerful middle class exists, as in Great Britain, to control the government, yet public opinion in Great Britain, in France, Belgium, Holland, and
throughout nearly all Germany, exercises a potent extra territorial influence, and is insensibly begetting habits of thinking
and acting among princes, totally different from what they
were accustomed to formerly. This influence has even penetrated the Turkish empire, and the sovereign is accordingly a
wiser and a more discreet ruler, than were most of the English
Henrys. He has consented to do what they never dreamed
of-to draw up an instrument imposing limitations upon his
own authority, to appoint a commission to digest a code of
jurisprudence, after the plan of the celebrated code civil of
France, and to establish a system of public schools for the
education of the people. The influence has obviously come
from abroad; and without indulging in any idle notions concerning the progress of society, we may reasonably figure to
ourselves a day when each of the European states will bear a
resemblance to the various districts or provinces of one great
commonwealth, and when the fashion of copying after those
which have attained the higlest civilization, will be even
stronger and more general than it is at the present day. I
know that when the most absolute sovereign of the north of
Europe is concerting measures to introduce jury trial into his
kingdom, that there is a power at work which belongs to the
age, not to the individual.
I would not be understood as maintaining that there are
not good reasons for the division of the legislature in the European states, nor that this arrangement may not have been
productive of advantage. Given, a constitution of society in
which a regular subordination of ranks exists, and is firmly
upheld by the laws, and it may be wise for a time, the duration of which it is difficult to calculate, to place the privileged
order in a separate chamber. But there are other causes which
have contributed to the wisdom of English councils, and the




CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              305
general security of civil liberty, which are absolutely overwhelming in comparison of the division of the legislature.
And perhaps the period is approaching, when it will be advantageous for both government and people, that some different
disposition should be made of that department, so that even
if the plan of dividing it is adhered to, it may at any rate be
placed upon a wider foundation.
I have also, in treating of American institutions, confined
myself to the domestic government of the states. And there
does not appear to be any convincing reason why the division
of the legislative power should be retained in them, other than
that the institution has been incorporated in the general habits
of thinking, and that an institution which is upheld by the
imagination is sometimes as formidable and as difficult to be
removed as any other.
But the national government presents an entirely different
case. It is a federal, and not a consolidated, republic; and
the most obvious way of executing this plan, and maintaining
the separate existence of the states, was to establish two chambers of legislation; in one of which the people of the states
should be treated as co-equal sovereignties, and therefore
entitled to the same number of representatives. An upper
house was thus constructed, which instead of being composed
of a body of nobles, consisted, like the lower house of representatives, of the people. But the apportionment of these
representatives is different from what it is in the lower house.
This plan of constructing a senatorial body is entirely new.
The chamber of nobles in the German diet bears no resemblance to it, as the members hold their seats "de jure," and
not by election. The American system, in this respect, may
be said to constitute the transition state, from the artificial
structure of the upper house in all the European states, to
the more simple and direct plan of founding it like the other
house upon an equal representation of the people. The system may exert an unspeakable influence upon other communities as it demonstrates the practicability of composing a senatorial body of other materials than an order of nobility, and
shows that a house so composed may possess as great stability.,
and display as mnch wisdom and firmness, as any privileged
body which has ever existed. The plan may suggest new views
20




306            NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II.
to the enlightened minds which help to control the destinies
of other countries.
But I am treating of free institutions generally, and not
merely of the particular form in which they have been cast in
the American union. The separate and independent existence
of the members of the American confederation, was an accidental circumstance. The republican form of government cannot be maintatained, in a country of considerable extent, without the establishment of local or domestic jurisdictions; but
it may well exist, although those jurisdictions should not possess the extensive powers which belong to them in the United
States.
The question then presents itself directly-is there any solid
reason for distributing the legislative power in a simple republic into two chambers? and I am of the opinion that there is,
so far as regards the national assembly only. As, in such a
form of government, the local jurisdiction would emanate from
the aggregate authority of the state, instead of the central
government emanating from them, the parts would neither
be sovereign states, nor would they contain an equal population. As a census is now taken in the United States, for the
purpose of apportioning the representation in the lower house
to the population; so in a simple republic, a census would have
the double effect of varying' the limits of the several compartments, and adjusting the representation equally among all.
There would then be no reason for constructing an upper
house upon the principle which governs the composition of the
American senate. There would be no reason for so doing, even
-f the territorial divisions were ever so unequal; but as these
divisions would not contain sovereign states, there would be
no motive for making them unequal at the commencement,
and of course none for permitting them to become so after the
government had gone into operation. They would be created
for the purpose of administering the local interests, pretty
much on the same plan as these interests are administered by
the state governments of America; because in an extensive
country, a single legislature, whether its character be national
or federal, cannot, either easily or advantageously, superintend the vast amount of business which properly falls under
the cognizance of government. I have in another chapter de



CHAP. vII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                307
dared, that it would be a mistake to suppose, because the
republic was a simple, and not a confederate one, that therefore domestic jurisdictions could be dispensed with.  Their
use would be the same as that of the local governments in
America; but the mode of constructing them would be different. In the United States, not only are the domestic legislatures a necessary part of the machinery of the government,
but it would be impossible to get along without a great number of still lesser jurisdictions, subordinate to, and inclosed
within the state governments, such as county and township
jurisdictions. And the same would be the case in any other
community, provided the form of government were republican.
We cannot expect that all the republics which may hereafter
exist will be composed of independent states.  Sorne may
spring up in Europe out of the consolidated governments
which now exist. At any rate the question cannot be avoided,
shall the legislative power in a simple republic be divided?
I have said that I incline to the opinion that, so far as regards the national legislature alone, it should be. But my
reasons are directly opposite to those which are assigned by
De Lallme. He would divide the legislature in order to make
one chamber control the other. This is the exterior bar to
which he refers; not a bar exterior to the whole body, and residing in the society, but a bar exterior to each chamber, and
therefore imposed by each upon the other. In a democratic
republic this principle of control is superseded by another of
far more efficacy, because of more comprehensive influence:
the responsibility of the entire body to the people who elect it.
The bars are then not merely exterior to each chamber, but
they are exterior to the whole body, and act with a force which
is in constant activity.  The defect now is the reverse of,
that of whiech De Lalme complains. The bars are too strong,
instead of too weak. The control is too stringent, instead of
being too easy. In other words, as the legislators are the mere,
agents of the people, and elected for a short period, not merely
will they be constantly subjected to the influence of public,
opinion in all their deliberations, which is a most happy circumstance; but there will be a constant tendency to the for-.
mation of a counterfeit public opinion also, which, in times of
great party excitement, it may be difficult to distinguish fronm




308             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II.
the other. This will unavoidably be the case in a country of
wide extent. In order to condense public opinion, as it is
termed, caucuses and cliques will be formed, and these may
very imperfectly represent the opinions of the people. Public
associations are the genuine offspring of free institutions; but
it is not all associations which are entitled to this character.
A knot of busy, active politicians will sometimes succeed in
robbing other people of their opinions, instead of representing
them. It becomes very important, therefore, to place the legislative body in a situation where it will be enabled to distinguish the real from the constructive majority, and to protect
the community from the machinations of the last. By dividing the body the proceedings are attended with a greater number of forms, and with more solemnity. The discussions will
be more thorough: the time consumed will be longer: add to.which, dividing the body is like creating two bodies. The authority and influence attributed to it will be doubled, and all
these circumstances will not only contribute to a clear perception of what is the genuine public sentiment, but will give to
the body, or to one chamber at least, ability to resist the influence of the counterfeit representation without. It is, therefore, not with the view of detracting from the authority of the
legislature, but of adding to it, and atoning for its weakness,
that I would divide it. Doubtless it seems to be too strong,
when it is carried away by the misguided passions of a palrt of
the population, who cause their voices to be heard above hozse
of a majority of the people. But this is a symptom of weakness, not of strength,; since it exhibits the body as a prey to
the artifices of those who are not its real constituents.
I have said that there are two essential properties of good
government: first, a susceptibility of receiving an iitlience
from without, of being acted upon by society; and second, a
corresponding power of reacting upon that society. It, is in
order to conciliate these two opposite ends, that I wouml1, in a
country of wide extent, where it is difficult to collect,:ud mature public opinion, divide the legislative body.
But it does not follow that it is necessary to pii:L-:,ae the
same plan in constructing the legislative power of thlb- doh)mestic governments. The great principle of responsibii]-ity has
superseded the check'which one chamber formerui'-t:..xerted




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                309
upon the other. And that principle should never be modified, unless it is necessary in order to render the responsibility
more strict. Money bills could only originate in the lower
house, because the constituents of the lower house were the
persons upon whom the weight of taxation fell most heavily.
The possession of the privilege was an effectual check upon
the proceedings of the upper house. But where both chambers are composed of representatives of the people, and the
territory is of no greater extent than the American states,
there does not appear to be any good reason for distributing
the members into two chambers, unless it is that the plan is
already identified with all the notions which have been formed
of regular government; and that it is sometimes as difficult to
root up an idea, as it is to build up an institution. Vermont
had a single chamber until 1836; and the business of legislation was conducted with the greatest wisdom and prudence.
The see-saw legislation, the refractory conduct pursued by the
legislatures of other states, were unknown, because the simple character of the body took away the temptation and the
ability so to act.
The allusion to the plan of local governments suggests another view of great importance. There is a division of the
legislature, which proceeds upon a totally different plan from
that contemplated by De Lalme, and Moutesquieu,. and which
is much more efficacious than the old scheme. It consists in
a division of the power, and not merely of the body. American institutions afford the only fair example of this plan.
The legislative power, in this great commonwealth, is not devolved upon one body; it is divided between the national assembly and the thirty legislatures of the states. The powers
which appertain to the domestic interests of the states are
separated from those which relate to their exterior interests,
and thus an arrangement, which was originally intended to
answer one purpose, has the effect of answering another
equally important. The care of the national interests is intrusted with the congress; that of the local interests with
local assemblies; so that whatever might be the constitution
of these thirty-one bodies, whether they were each composed
of a single or a double chamber, the legislative power would
be effectually divided. This arrangement is productive of far




310              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK IT.
more important results than a mere division of the body. It
is true, we may call it a division of the body. We may say that
the whole legislative power of the union is confided to sixtytwo chambers. But we should then lose sight of the principle
on which the division is made, as well as of the manner in
which it operates. It would be correct to say, that in Sweden,
the legislative body was distributed between four chambers.
But in America, it is the power which is distributed. And
although there are sixty-two chambers, yet these do not act coordinately, but each of the 31 legislative bodies exercises powears which are distinct, and independent of those of the others.
This disposition of the legislative power in America constitutes a deduction from the power which would otherwise be
exercised by the national assembly. It erects still stronger
and more numerous bars against the enterprises of the legislature, and these bars are all without, and not within the
body. It does not merely balance power, it absolutely with-;holds it. If the whole mass of authority which is wielded by
the national and state legislatures were delegated to one assembly, all the other bulwarks of freedom would be underminedl. The political power of the- community would be completely centralized. The minds of men would be distracted
by the vast amount and the complex character of the business
which would be transacted at a distance so far removed from
their observation. Public affairs would become a great mystery, and whenever that is the case, government is in a fair
way of acquiring inordinate power. But under the present
a.dmirable arrangement, public business, like all other knowledge., is classified and distributed, so as on the one hand to
protect usurpation., and on the other, to secure an orderly administration in every part of society.
A republic has been defined to be a government of laws;
but as Rousseau has well remarked, a government may be
one of laws, and yet be exceedingly imperfect in its construction. It must b2 one of equal laws, in order to fulfill the plan
of republican government. Society has undoubtedly secured
one great advantage, when public affairs are conducted upon
some fixed and regular scheme, and where general rules are
laid down for the government of individuals. This is better
than to have everything dependent upon the arbitrary will




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                311
and caprice of a handful of public rulers. Moreover, when
this first step is taken, better things are in prospect, and only
wait a favorable opportunity to be introduced. But there may
be the most orderly arrangement in a system of government;
and yet the system  may act very unequally upon different
parts of society. The laws may set out, without taking it for
granted that there is a radical and permanent distinction
between different classes of society; and when this is the
case, the whole course of the subsequent legislation will be
directed to uphold this distinction. In nearly all the European states, the executive is a hereditary magistrate, and tile
legislative body, or one chamber at least, is composed of the
nobility. That this should be so, is in those communities, regarded as among the most settled principles of wise govertnment. If the laws did not originate the system, they everywhere confirm  and support it. These communities may be
said to be governments of laws. All public business is conducted with great precision and regularity. But this does
not prevent the system from bearing with immense inequality
upon different parts of society. The influence which such a
scheme of government exerts, is not always direct; it may
operate circuitously through many subordinate channels; but
still affecting materially the manners, and consequently the
character, of the legislation. Thus in Great Britain, where
the nobility are a small fraction of the population, when compared with the middle class, parliament, in no act of ordinary
legislation, ever avows the design of making a formal distinction between the two. But the influence and power of
the former are upheld in a great variety of ways, by an overgrown church establishment, by the creation of monopolies,
by the structure even of the house of commons, which admits
persons principally who belong to the class of-gentry, and who
are therefore more or less connected with the aristocracy
proper. All this inspires a general taste for aristocratic distinctions, long after the nobility have ceased to appropriate
to themselves one-half of the power and property of the conmunity. The government of France is one of laws, but the
house of deputies only possess one-third of the legislative
power, and represents only two hundred thousand persons, in
a population of thirty-five millions.




312            NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II
There is another difficulty which meets us: although the
laws do not accord any fixed immunities to one class, there
will still exist great inequality in the conditions of the citizens. The same laws, applied to all, will operate unequally
upon some. A. tax proportioned to the income of individuals,
may reduce some to poverty, while it leaves others in affluence. The state invites all the citizens to enter the halls of
legislation, or to fill other important posts. Accidental circumstances, natural infirmity of mind or body, or some other
of the disadvantages of fortune, may prevent numbers from
profiting of the invitation, while it will conduct others to
wealth and distinction. We may alleviate, if we cannot cure,
the defects of the first kind; we may take care that taxation
shall never bear with inordinate weight upon the poor. But
there is no wvay of rectifying the last species of imperfection,
if an inequality which is stamped upon all created beings can
be called an imperfection. But government has no right to
exaggerate the inequalities which actually exist among men,
and to create distinctions which would not otherwise take
place. All men are not born equal, but all men are born with
an equal title to become so; and government has no right to
throw impediments in the way of making that title good.
The high standard of popular intelligence in the United
States is not owing to education alone. It is in great part
ascribable to the absence of that mighty weight which presses
upon the faculties of men in the middle walks of life, when
they live in a state in which aristocratic distinctions lie at the
foundation of the government.
The government of the United States comes as near the
idea of a government of equal laws, as any we dare expect to
see. The laws are made by the people, and they are consequently made for the people. There may be great difference
in the legislation of two countries, although the laws are the
same in both. For instance: laws which are designed to protect property, affect but a small proportion of the population
where property is monopolized by a few, as is the case in Russia and Poland, as was the case in France before the revolution, when nearly three-fourths of the land was appropriated
by the clergy and nobility. Something of the same kind may
be observed in countries much more enlightened than Russia




CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              313
or Poland. For instance: the law of perpetual entail exists
in Scotland and Germany; so that in the former much more
than one-third of the land is tied up for ever; the wholesome
restraint which the English courts have imposed upon English
estatesbeing unknown. Scotland is under a government of laws,
but those who are protected by the laws, are a privileged
class.
This constitutes a leading distinction between the legislation of the United States and other countries. The Americans
commenced where other communities will probably leave off.
Property is more equally distributed than anywhere else. The
laws, from the necessity of the case, are obliged to be more
equal than anywhere else. But this lays the foundation, for
more important changes in their character. They will become
more enlightened, less incumbered with subtle and unmeaning fictions, because they will acquire a greater degree of simplicity; and they will have this simplicity, because being enacted by the people, they will be more thoroughly adapted
both to their wants and their comprehension.
Thus, although America derived the elements of its jurisprudence from England, material changes have been made,
especially daring the last thirty or forty years. And when, in
1828, the British parliament entered upon the great work of
reforming the civil code, the laws of the American states furnished the pattern after which it was obliged to copy. In the
laws of one or other of the American states, are to be found
almost every material improvement which has been made, and
a still greater number which may have been advantageously
inserted in the new code.
The criminal codes of the American states are stamped with
the same distinguishing feature as the civil. The two go
hand in hand, because the subject-matter of both is closely
connected. The temptations to violate the rights of property
are increased, in proportion as property is confined to a few.
And thus this new result will take place, that in a country
where nearly every one is interested in the acquisition and
secure possession of property, the laws will be more humane
than in those where property is distributed to a few.
As to the mode of proposing the laws to the legislative
body for its adoption, this has been very different in differ



314            NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II.
ent countries, and in the same country, at different times.
In the European states, formerly, the executive possessed the
exclusive privilege of propounding what laws were proper to
be enacted. The manner in which the initiatory step is now
taken in some of those states, indicates a very great change
in the relative authority of the two departments. The power
of proposing the laws, when vested exclusively in the executive, gives him complete command over the motions of the
legislature. This body was at one time regarded as a mere appendage to the executive. The last was in reality the supreme legislative tribunal. In course of time this apparently
slight change took place. The legislature addressed the king
in the form of petition, as to what law they wished to be
passed. This gave the former a more active part in their formation; but still fell very short of the appropriate office of a
legislative assembly. The executive was still regarded as the
ultimate arbiter of all public measures. In England, a further
change took place. Bills were drawn up in general terms, and
the judges performed the task of framing them into laws. But
this was not done until the session of parliament was closed;
a strange practice, it we did not know that all human institutions, in their immature state, wear a strange and uncouth
character. The judges at that period were dependent on the
king, and the shape given to the laws was not always what
was intended. This practice indicated very clearly, however,
that something like system and regularity was beginning to
be introduced into the transaction of business. It was the
forerunner of still more salutary changes. Accordingly, in no
very long time, parliament asserted the exclusive right of
originating and framing the laws. The legislature then began
to assume the character of an independent body. The prerogative of the king was transformed into a negative upon
the laws, after they had passed through the two houses, instead of being exercised at the first stage of the proceedings.
A similar change has been brought about in the French govornment. The rightof the king to propose the laws, which was
retained in the " charte" of 1814, is abolished by that of 1830,
and the power may be exercised indifferently by the king, the
chamber of peers, or the chamber of deputies. But it is not
so in the constitution of Holland, or Belgium, though in so




CHAP. VII.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               315
many respects they are copied after the English model, and
ulderwent a revolution in the same year that the new provision was inserted in the French constituton.
In the United States this power of initiating the laws could
at no period be exercised by the executive: for the legislative
power, both in the national and state governments, is vested
solely in the general assembly of each. The privilege which
is conferred upon the president and governors, of suggesting
such changes as they may deem beneficial, is of a totally different character from the power of propounding the laws as it
is understood in European language.
There are two customs which exist in the French and English governments, which may be regarded as relics of the ancient prerogatives of the executive. The one is the speech
made from the throne, at the annual meeting of the legislature; the other consists of the right which ministers have to
seats in that body, either "' de jure," as ministers, as in France,
or by virtue of an election, as in Great Britain. Wherever
the executive is a hereditary magistrate, the last is an exceedingly advantageous arrangement, because it brings him within
the reach of the legislature, and subjects him to the immediate
action of public opinion. The theory of the constitution places
him beyond it; the practice draws him insensibly within the
circle of its influence. But the speech which is made at the
opening of the legislative body is a wise regulation, whether
the executive is an hereditary, or an elective magistrate.
When we read the instructive and business-like communications of the president to congress, and of the governors to the
state legislatures, the observation that they are the broken
relies of a formidable prerogative of kingly power may appear
to be new; yet such is undoubtedly the case. The American custom, however, is of unmixed benefit to the community. Some
centuries hence, another 3Montesquieu, or Millar, will set about
exploring American institutions, which will then acquire additional interest, from being covered with the rust of antiquity,
and in poring over the history of the country, will fasten upon
very many things as worthy of deep attention and study,
which, in consequence of their familiarity, elude the observation of Americans at the present day. Existing institutions
are often more difficult to decipher and thoroughly understand,




316             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
than those of a remote age. They are mixed up with so much
which is apparantly familiar, and with so much which is really
extraneous, that it demands a severe and comprehensive analysis, to disentangle the last, and to give to the former their
just place. But when institutions grow old, things which
were once familiar become striking facts, and whatever was
extraneous has dropped off and fallen into oblivion; so
that time operates the same analysis with regard to an ancient
system of government, which it requires the utmost thought
and reflection to effect in relation to an existing one.
The custom of sending to the legislature a communication,
containing a clear account of the state of public affairs, not
only maintains friendly relations between the two departments; it tests the capacity of the chief magistrate, and
makes it his ambition to obtain exact information of everything which affects the condition and future prospects of the
community over which he presides. The more the minds of
public men are turned in this direction, the less the danger of
their meditating schemes hnfavorable to the general weal.
And doubtless one reason why America has enjoyed such unexampled tranquillity, is that the administration of public
affairs has assumed a thoroughly business-like character.
Men of the finest understanding have been repeatedly governors of the states: Jefferson and M'Kean, Griswold and
Clinton, M'Duffie and Everett, without mentioning many
others who belong to the same class. If these men had been
nurtured under a Spanish, or a Portuguese government, or in
an Italian republic, their minds would have been subjected to
a discipline the most unfavorable imaginable, and their public conduct would have taken a totally different direction.
VWhen in reading American history, one comes across such a
character as Aaron Burr, it seems as if we had encountered a
being who properly belonged to another sphere. He also possessed faculties of a high order, but he stands alone in one
respect: he appears never to have realized, what all other
Americans find it impossible to forget, that he was born and
educated in a country of free institutions. He seems to be a
man of Venice, or Genoa, rather than one of New York.
The communities in which the executive messages are most
full and comprehensive, are the very ones which posses most




CHAP. VII.       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                317
liberty, so much has the custom deviated from the institution out of which it sprung. In monarchical states, where we
might expect the executive to dictate minutely what should be
done, he says little or nothing. And in a republic, where from
his authority being exceeding limited, we might expect him
to say very little, he traverses the whole field of inquiry,
and appears to feel as deep an interest as if the state were
his property, and the people his subjects. Nothing can be
more jejune than a king's message, while few documents
are more instructive and satisfactory, than the messages of
the American president and governors. The king fears to
show himself upon an arena where he would find so many private citizens his superiors. A few words are sometimes understood to be a sign of wisdom, and with kings it becomes
an universal maxim that they are so.
The establishment of a written constitution necessarily introduces a great change in'the character and functions of
the legislative body. The effect is to create a division of the
legislative power between the people and the ordinary legislative assembly: another contrivance much more efficacious
than the distribulion of the last into two chambers. The
people exercise their share of authority when assembled in
convention; they ordain fundamental rules for the government of all the departments; or when collected at the polls,
they ratify or reject proposed alterations in the existing constitution. Sometimes a constitutional charter adds to the powers
of the legislative body, but in a great majority of instances,
it dimrinishes them. In the former case, it would perhaps be
correct to say, that there was a displacement, or new arrangement, of the powers of the ordinary legislative body. Thus,
in a, retlublic, the authority to declare war is delegated to this
asselIbly, but it has been taken from  the executive. The
same aMotut of legislative power as before may be delegated,
buet a very important part is wrested from one department,
in ro::uder to be deposited with another.
Bot it it il more important at present to notice those powers
wLruie  are entirely withdrawn from the legislative assembly,
na:~<,i~::1;-:tlued by the people. The freedom of religion and of
th.e.':-,Ss_ t:he organization of the political departments, trial
B'~y ur1y1, the qualifications of electors, and of candidates for




318             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II.
office, are a few of them. The legislature can no longer intermeddle with these matters, though the people in convention
may make what disposition they please in regard to them.
The noblest efforts have been made in France to introduce
constitutional liberty. But the liberties of no people can rest
upon a solid foundation, unless the constitution is the work of
their own hands. The revolution of 1830, was occasioned by
the daring interference of the king with the freedom of the
press, and the law of elections: matter which should be carefully locked up by the constitution. The most exciting controversies, those which have caused nearly all the insurrections
which have taken place, are precisely those which a popular
constitution withdraws from the cognizance of a legislative
assembly. A constitutional ordinance severs, if I may so say,
the conventional from the legislative power. It marks out
a limited field for the exercise of the last. The temptation and
the ability to usurp power are not absolutely diminished, but
they are greatly repressed.
There is another division of the laws, into those which relate to the manners, and those which have a direct reference
to the rights of persons and property. In the first rudiments
of society, a code of jurisprudence is very apt to touch extensively upon manners. The community then bears a strong
resemblance to the family, and the government to the government of a family. The progress of society produces the same
change in the laws, which a knowledge of the world produces
in the character of individuals. It enlarges the field of observation and inquiry, and places in an insignificant light many
actions to which the utmost importance was attached. All
laws are the result of a process of generalization. But when
the community has grown from a city, or an inconsiderable
territory, to an extensive and populous state, it becomes impossible to regulate private manners minutely, and yet to preserve the system of generalization. The codes of some of the
Germanic tribes, the Franks, and the Bungundians, interfered
extensively with the manners. The blue laws of Connecticut
are also a remarkable example of the same species of legislation, though it is a great mistake to suppose that laws of that
character were confined to that province. Similar regulations,
only not so numerous, nor carried to so great an extent, were
adopted in others. They were not even confined to the north



CHAP. VIL.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 319
ern provinces, but were in force in some of the southern also.
Sumptuary laws were very common among the ancient colmmonwealths. They even lay at the foundation of the government of Sparta. But Sparta was smaller than a moderate
sized American county, and this system of legislation gradually gave way, after intercouse with the other Grecian states
had produced a higher civilization, and given rise to more liberal modes of thinking.
The Oppian law enacted at Rome was one of the most remarkable of this class of laws. It imposed severe restrictions
upon the dress of females, forbade ornamental apparel; and
the legislature, which convened for the purpose of deliberating whether it should be continued in force, drew around the
IRoman forum a mob of women, as formidable as the band of
men which in 1780, collected under the banner of Lord George
Gorgon, to intimidate the British parliament. The city of
Rome, however, was the real lRoman commonwealth: the
Italian provinces occupied the place of dependencies, rather
than integral parts of one state.
But the'list of such laws after all was not very extensive.
It would have been an endless task to legislate for the manners and morals of the people. As positive regulations could
not reach them, the matter was left to the discretion of the
censor. But what the laws have not power to do, it is plain
no individual will attempt, and this part of the duty of the
censor was not very strictly performed.
It is sometimes difficult to draw a distinct line between the
two classes of actions to which I have referred. Life, liberty,
and property, are the subjects which the laws principally deal
with. Yet in some highly civilized countries, duellitig has not
always been punished; the reason of which is, that the manners have been too strong for the laws. In some countries
men fight in obedience to the manners; in others, they abstain
from fighting, also in obedience to the manners. As the punishment of death has no terror for the man, who in order to escape
death, seizes the last plank in a shipwreck from  a weaker
man, so it has no terror for the man who pursuades himself
that even an imaginary disgrace is more intolerable than
death. But duelling is a relic of aristocratic institutions. It
follows, therefore, that in proportion as the principle of equal



320              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOIK II.
ity gains ground, and becomes thoroughly incorporated with
the fashion of thinking, the custom will disappear. The manners are then made to correct the manners. Equality has a
wonderful influence in laughing out of countenance all fanciful notions. It is absurd to expose our own lives, when a
grievous injury has been done to us. It is worse than absurd,
when we have only been affronted. I observe that in the
southeastern states, where the principle of'equality has gained
ground so fast, and where in consequence the minds of men
have been driven to reflection, the custom is falling into disrepute.
Some governments permit theatrical entertainments, while
others prohibit them altogether. The legislature of Connecticut has resisted every effort to introduce them. Although
these exhibitions, in some repects afford an innocent and even
noble recreation, yet the sum of their influence is deemed as
pernicious as any of those actions which immediately affect
the persons or reputation of others. New Haven is as large
as New York was in 1776, when the latter had a regular
theatrical corps. But if it were as large as New York now is,
or as large as Boston, it may be doubted whether the legislature would be enabled to persevere in its excellent intentions.
The creation of domestic governments in the United States
has this advantage: it enables particular sections of the country to adapt the laws to the manners, instead of being involved in the consequences of one general and sweeping system of legislation.
If the inquiry should still be pressed: why do legislators,
for the most part, confine their attentions to those actions
which immediately affect life, liberty, and jproperty, and leave
untouched a very large class of others, which have a very important, although it may be an indirect, bearing upon the
public happiness? the following observations may be made, in
addition to those which have been already sugofested:
If there were no laws, actions which are rcow visited with a
penalty would not go unpunished. The great benefit arising
from  a regular code of laws, and a correspo:urding systemi of
procedure, consists in the restraint which t-he~se impose upon
private revenge. For this would then:,tss hall bounds, and
punish too much. The influence of the lar.v is such, that it




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               321
substitutes reflection in the place of passion. And with regard to those actions which affect others indirectly, but do not
assume any tangible shape, although the laws do abstain fromn
punishing them, yet they are most certainly punished. But
inasmuch as the punishment is applied to a different class of
actions, it assumes a different character. Acts of violence
were before followed with violence; and vices in the manners
are followed by a countervailing influence of the manners.
Hatred, envy, and ingratitude, are exceedingly prejudicial to
public as well as to private happiness; and they are visited in
private life with a penalty as certain as that which the law
inflicts upon delinquencies of a graver kind. The state undertakes to punish these, because individuals would exceed all
bounds, if punishment were left to them. And it abstains
from noticing the former, because it could neither punish so
generally, nor so judiciously, as when the punishment is left
to the silent, but searching operation of opinion. Murder and
robbery are very far from being driven from society by the
severest laws, but they are rendered much less frequent than
they would otherwise be. So, although the worst passions
still infest society, yet without the punishment which; now
constantly attends them, the most civilized community would
be turned into a pandemonium.
I cannot leave this subject without noticing a species of
legislation which has lately made its appearance in some of
the American states, and which has in a remarkable manner
arrested public attention, both at home and abroad. I allude
to the license laws; laws which are intended, if possible, to
extirpate the use of intoxicating liquors. These seem to partake of the character of sumptuary regulations, and therefore
to be an interference with subjects which are properly withdrawn from the care of the civil magistrate. But I hold that
they constitute an exception to the rule.
It was not until public attention was particularly drawn to,
this matter, that any one was aware to how great an extent
the commi. sion of crimes was to be traced to the use of spirit —
ous liquors. Still less did persons of even considerable reflection form any conception of the inafuence which the practice
of moderate drinking, as it is termed, has in confusing the
judgment, blunting the moral sense, and souring the temper;.
21




322             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IL.
But it is evident, that a vast portion of misconduct, want of
judgment, feeble, irresolute, and contradictory actions, which
were supposed to be unaccountable, and were not regarded as
of great importance, are attributable to this cause, and have
shed a most baneful influence upon society. This is a matter,
therefore, which, even if it wholly concerned the manners, has
an importance which belongs to no other of a similar class.
And the efforts which have been made by the people of New
England, Tennessee, and New York, are symptoms of an exceedingly sound state of public opinion. It is because the
people have themselves taken this matter into consideration,
that it possesses so much importance. In some countries,
legislation by the people suggests the notion of licentiousness,
of a predatory spirit. Here is a remarkable example, the most
remarkable I am aware of, to the contrary. Without the cooperation of the people, it would be a herculean task to lift
the popular mind; but with their co-operation everything
good and useful mlay be accomplished. If the laws whfich
have been passed in some of these states should remain unrepealed, they will be a lasting monument of the wisdom and,virtue of the people. I am inclined to think that they will
constitute the most memorable example of legislation of which
we have any record, not so much in consequence of their
widely salutary influence, as because they argue a degree of
self-denial and reflection which no one before supposed to belong to the masses. Let no European after this indulge in the
fanciful notion, that the people are incapable of self-government. As a single act, it is the most marked proof of a capacity for self-goverDnment of which I have any knowledge.
Nor would it materially weaken the force of the reasoning,
if these laws were repealed. That they have been proposed
by the popular mind, that they have enlisted a powerful and
numerous class in their favor, is decisive of the soundness of
public opinion. If two millions and a half of people hold opin
ions which are eminently favorable to morality and good government, and three millions hold opposite ones, the influence
of the first will be felt beyond all comparison, before that of
the last. It would afford matter for curious and instructive
inquiry, if we could ascertain the exact influence which government and the laws on the one hand, and the manners and




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               323
habits of a people on the other, exercise respectively on society.
The laws are the offspring of the manners, and yet when the
former are fairly established, and have acquired authority from
long usage, they exert a distinct and additional influence upon
society.
st-. If there were no government and laws, there would be
a voluntary association, or associations, similar to those voluntary conventions and societies which now spring up in the
community, and which are employed in diffusing information
relative to public affairs. But admitting that a large proportion of the population would be disposed to fall in with every
measure which reason and good sense suggested, there would
always be a number who would not be so disposed. Even if
all assented at first, there would be numerous instances of disobedience, when those measures were to be carried into execution. The disturber of the public peace, the flagrant violator
of private rights, would claim an exemption, on the ground
that the resolves of the association were not laws, had no
authoritative sanction, and the exercise of private judgment
on the part of some would be as effectual in annulling, as tire
exercise of the same judgment on the part of others in maintaining them. So far, then, as one, and that a considerable
portion of society was concerned, laws, that is coercive enactments, would be indispensable to the peace of society.
2d. But there are an infinity of other questions which would
arise in every extensive community, besides those which bear
directly upon the public tranquillity. Dissent, with regard to
these, would be very common, even among those who were
agreed as to the necessity of fixed rules in respect to the last.
There would then be no system of measures; everything would
be thrown into confusion; the sense of a common interest,
which might be sufficient to uphold the former, would operate
in a contrary direction with regard to the latter. The total
want of authority in carrying into effect the civil regulations
of the association, would undermine its authority in executing
the criminal resolves, Infractors of public and private rights,
perceiving the-confusion which existed in one part of society,
would acquire boldness and activity in the perpetration of their
deeds. The other part of society would lose confidence in their
authority, simply because they were conscious of a disobedi



324             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BnOI II.
ence on their own part, to measures, not of the same sort, but
originating in precisely the same species of authority. Civil
government, then, has a two-fold influence —st, in controlling
the population; and, 2d, in controlling those who undertake to
govern. Society could not exist without coercive enactments
to prevent crimes, and the authority which the laws acquire
in restraining these, is very naturally transferred to all the
political and civil regulations of the community, and thus
carries one principle of obedience through all ranks of society.
We see frequent opposition to every species of civil enactment,
and very little to the laws which punish crimes. The first are
intended to guard the rights of the highest, as well as the
lowest classes; the second are made especially to restrain the
lowest. But the society is compelled to arm the first with the
same authority as accompanies the last; otherwise the principle of obedience would be weakened at its source. The manners, the rules of conventional conduct, would be sufficient to
prompt to the prohibition of very many acts, but they would
be powerless in executing the wishes of the society, and
equally powerless in commanding, or forbidding others to be
done. Men are thus irresistibly led from society to government: the manners and -the laws act reciprocally upon each
other, and in the progress of time, the two are so intimately
blended, that it is impossible to distinguish the exact influence
which each exercises in molding the habits and conduct of individuals.
3d. It is in this way that the rule of the majority, a rule indispensable to the existence and well-being of society, comes
to be firmly established. The majority cannot win the minority to obedience to the laws, unless they also obey them. In
numberless instances, individuals among the majority would
desire to escape from the operation of the laws, but they cannot do so without breaking the bond which runs through the
whole of society. They are compelled to adhere to the great
principle of obedience, in order to maintain their own authority.
They might command the physical force of society, but physical force is impotent when it is not accompanied with the
opinion of right. This opinion, or sense of right, is like the
self-possession and resolution of a small man, which make him
an overmatch for a strong man who does not possess those




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               325
qualities. Moreover, so many among the majority would be
inclined to escape from the enactment of the laws (the poor,
for instance, from the payment of taxes), that the majority
would dwindle into a minority: universal disobedience to a
great part of the civil enactment would take place, and the
criminal laws, having no sanction, would also be trampled
under foot. The manners and the laws again act mutually,
the one upon the other; the maintenance of great principles
is discovered to be identical with self-interest. The first, as being better defined and more easily appreciated, is laid hold of as
of immutable obligation, and the sense of interest is ultimately
swallowed up in the sense of justice. Every law carries with
it a title to be obeyed, because one law contains as full an annunciation of a great principle, as all the laws combined, and
to deny the authority of one, is to deny the authority of all.
By multiplying the laws, we only multiply the application of
a principle, but we cannot multiply a principle, for that is irndivisible.
4th. The laws are a reflection of the manners. The manners
give birth to the laws, but when the manners are incorporated
in the laws, they acquire great additional authority. Legal
enactments reduce to unity the great diversity of opinions
which exist, and relieve the mind from the irksome task of
perpetually inquiring into the reason of the laws. The value
of the principle consists in this, that a great majority of the
citizens are instinctively and habitually led to regard the law
as the supreme rule of conduct. After a system of laws is
established, the manners cannot be preserved, unless there is
an adherence to the laws: the manners then become the powerful ally of the civil magistrate, and public order and tranquillity are ensured.
5th. The wider the influence of the manners, the wider will
be the influence of the laws: that is, the greater the number
of people who will contribute to the formation of what we
term public opinion, the stronger will be the authority of the
government. Whenever, then, it is in our power to mold the
institutions on the democratic model, the standard of both
laws and manners will be elevated. In a democratic republic,
the manners have necessarily a more extensive influence than
in any other form of government. Public opinion, therefore,




326              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK II.
has a more direct influence upon the execution as well as upon
the formation of the laws. In most countries, the laws are
devised by the few. The opinions of the many and few are
thus placed in an antagonist relation to each other. In England, and Scotland, the manners have infinitely more influence
in shaping the laws than in Spain and Portugal. English institutions contain a stronger infusion of republican notions,
and the laws are infinitely better obeyed than in Spain and
Portugal. In the United States, the spirit of obedience is
still stronger, as is shown by the fact that no standing military force has ever been kept up.  But, as a general rule, the
laws are somewhat in advance of public opinion. The wider
the sphere of their influence, therefore, the more powerfully
will they act upon their manners, and the manners will be rendered more and more auxiliary to the execution of the laws.
6th. Constitutions and laws, then, are not mere parchment
barriers. The instances in which they are violated, are to
those in which they are obeyed, as one to ten thousand. But
the reason why this is so deserves particular consideration.
As a general rule, the constitution and laws are obeyed, because it is felt to be right that they should be. But this opinion of right derives great strength from the fact that each
law, and each clause in a constitution, is the result of a mental analysis which has already been gone through with. He
who can give us an analysis of his ideas, is listened to with
more respect than he who can give us only his loose thoughts.
But singular as it may appear, the great majority of mankind
are even more affected with the result of an analysis, than
with the analysis itself. It wears a more imposing character,
1st, because it presents them with the idea in a form too large
for their apprehension. They are unable to comprehend the
analysis, while at the same time they possess sufficient discernment to perceive that the end it leads to, is the result of a
mental operation. 2d. A constitution and code of laws, are
each a system of rules, and all men, the learned as well as the
unlearned, are wonderfully affected with this notion of system.
Each article in the one, and each enactment in the other, flows
from some common principle; each part lends a sanction to
every part, so that the sum total of authority which is possessed by the whole, is greater than that of the parts. The




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               327
constitution and the laws are, for the most part, an impersonation of the manners, and yet they acquire an authority so
totally distinct from the manners, that to speak of the two as
identical, would appear to the common mind a violation of the
rules of good sense.
7th. The co operation of the laws and the manners is, thGn,
evident. But there are a great number of instances in which
the laws have a peculiar efficacy in giving a direction to the
manners. It is sometimes even necessary to force a law, in
order to bring about a given result. The first law which laid
the foundation of the system of internal improvement in New
York, the grand canal, was carried through the legislature by
storm. The enactment ot some laws is vehemently resisted
for a long time, although the public opinion is in favor of
them. The manifestation of public opinion is not clear and
decisive, until they are actually passed: they then show a title
to obedience, as well as to respect. The desired reform becomes
more instead of less popular. It then represents a definite
number of people who derive support from a mutual sympathy, and who, through the medium of the same principle of
sympathy, gradually impart their opinions to a still wider
number. If any of the American states succeed in abolishing
the traffic in spirituous liquors, it will be on this principle.
At first public opinion is only half muttered; its expression is
only found in detached masses of mei, although the aggregate
of opinions of these masses would represent a decided majority. The law combines them, gives unity to the opinions of
all, and the authoritative sanction thus affbrded to them secures the triumph of the reform. At a first step toward bringing the Russians within the pale of civilized Europe, Peter I.
made an ordinance prohibiting them from wearing their beards.
In no very long time the disuse of the custom becanme not only
popular but fashion able. There was great opposition in France,
and many of the American states to the repeal of the law of
primogeniture. In the last, the law has so entirely molded the
manners and set the fashion, that even devises which are ui1restrained follow the rule of equal partibility. In France the
same effect would follow, if the law had not controlled devises
as well as regulated the course of descent.
8th. The institutions of a country not only ought to be, but




328             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II.
they necessarily are in advance of the popular intelligence.
1st. They must be so, because they are the work of the
more intelligent class of the community, even where intelligence is widely diffused. A constitution of government, a
code of jurisprudence, institutions for the education of the
people, etc., all demand information, together with powers of
analysis and, generalization, to which the common mind is incompetent. 2d. They ought to be lifted above the cornmmon
run of opinions for the same reason. The intelligence displayed in those various institutions, taking advantage of the
capacity foir improvement among the common people, and presenting constantly to the view some permanent standard of
action, pushes them forward, stimulates them to thought and
reflection, and induces habits of conduct every way superior
to what they would otherwise have attained.
The civil and political institutions, nevertheless, represent
all classes. They represent the more enlightened, because they
are the work of their hands; they represent all other classes,
because they are designed to regulate their conduct toward
each other and toward the government. They contain what
they desire they should contain, although they are unable to
give account to themselves of the manner in which the task
has been performed. And if a fraction only of the three millions entertain different opinions, the majority agreeing with
the two millions and a half, and only hesitating as to the expediency of positive legislation, we make sure of one of two
things, that such laws will be passed at some future day, or
that public opinion will be so searching and so powerful in its
operation, that they will be unnecessary.
There are a multitude of subjects on which the legislative
power may be exercised, which it would be unprofitable to
recount in detail. Some of these will be more particularly
inoticed under distinct heads.  The important modification
which this department undergoes, in consequence of the existence of a written constitution, the abolition of a chamber of
nobility, and the distribution ot the power between a national
and local legislatures, are things which it is of most consequence to keep in view. When the operation and influence of
these- are fairly grasped, it will be easy to understand the character and functions of the legislature in a country of free in



CHAP. VII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                329
stitutions, whether the form of government is that of a simple,
or a confederate, republic.
For instance: what a variety of subjects are withdrawn
from the national legislature in America, in consequence of
the existence of the state governments. This plan is attended
with two important advantages. It alters the whole character
of legislation. The domestic affairs of the population, which
outweigh in number and importance all others, become the
subject of chief importanee, while at the same time more judgment and skill are devoted to those interests than could be
the case, if they were all superintended by a central government. In the second place, the immense deduction which is
made from the power of the national legislature, prevents its
being brought in perpetual collision with popular rights. As
the whole amount of public business, which is transacted in a
country of free institutions, is incomparably greater than in
any other, the danger of introducing a complete system of
centralization would also be greater, if the legislative authority were not distributed among two classes of government.
At one time it was believed in America, that  the power to
make internal improvements, not merely military and post
roads, but every other kind of roads and canals, might well
be exercised by congress. The power was regarded as a- sort
of paternal authority which would be engaged in dispensing
benefits to the whole population, and from which therefore no
political evil need be apprehended. But reflecting and clearsighted statesmen thought they could discern, behind this paternal authority, the germ of a power which, if it were permitted to take root and spread, would give rise to a system of
centralization which would fritter away the authority of the
states, and therefore be detrimental to popular freedom. They
therefore opposed the exercise of the power, even where the
state consented; and very consistently, for consent cannot
give jurisdiction. A state cannot surrender a power to the
federal government which the constitution has withheld. To
do so would be to disarrange the whole system, and to alter
the balance between the national and state governments. The
school whence those opinions emanated was at one time derisively termed the Virginia school of politics; but with great
injustice, for these opinions have been productive of unspeak



330             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOSK II.
able blessings to the American people. It should rather be
denominated the American school of politics, as it is a genuine representation of the mode of thinking, which should be
familiar to every one in a country of free institutions. All
experience shows that there is more danger from a too lax,
than from a too strict, construction of the constitution.
Every one may have read the interesting and graphic description of the solemn mission which was deputed by New
York to Washington City, for the purpose of engaging the
general government to embark in those public improvements
which the state has itself executed in much less time, and
with so much more skill and judgment, than if they had been
left to a central government. The state distrusted its own
ability to construct these works. This was one motive. An-.
other probably was, that it would avoid the responsibility of
laying the taxes necessary to defray the expense. But the
mission to Washington met with an insurmountable obstacle.
The federal government at that time was administered under
the auspices of that Virginia school of politics to which I
have referred: and for the first time in the history of nations,
a government was found which openly avowed that it was unwilling to augment its own power. Fortunate result, in every
aspect in which it can be viewed. The states have escaped a
system of centralization, which would inevitably have impaired their just authority; and the great state, which first
projected the plan-of internal improvements on a broad scale,
has succeeded beyond all expectation, in the execution of its
gigantic works. The series of years of unparalleled activity
in every department of industry which followed, has gradually enlisted every other state in the same scheme; and dificulties, which seemed too great for the resources of any single
state, have been easily overcome by all.
This is one among many instances, of the advantages resultino from a division of the legislative power, between a
national and local legislatures.
A striking example of the effect which a popular constitution has in altering the character of the legislation, is afforded
by the disposition which has been made of the war-making
power in the American government. It has been taken from
the executive, and confided to the legislature alone.  It is




CHAP. VII.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.             331
true that this arrangement may be adopted in a government
where such a constitution is unknown. In Sweden, at one
time, the states or diet had the exclusive power of declaring
war. And at present they possess a veto upon the resolution
of the king.  But a popular constitution makes sure of
abridging the power of the executive, and what is of still
more consequence, it provides for the creation of a legislative
body, which shall really, not nominally, represent the public
will. The legislative power is the power to make laws, and
the law which gives rise to a state of war is one of the most
important which can be enacted. War was formerly made
without any solemn declaration, and on this account, perhaps,
the power was supposed to fall within the appropriate sphere
of executive jurisdiction. Devolving the power upon representatives of the people is a step taken in favor of civilization, not merely in one nation, but among all nations. The
power will be used with infinitely more caution.'6 War,"
says AMr. Burke, "never left a nation where it found it."  It
not only alters the relations between the belligerents; it produces the most serious changes in the internal condition of
each. It annuls "'ipso facto" some of the laws which were
before of force; it renders necessary the passage of new ones,
affecting immediately the pursuits of private individuals, and
very frequently entails the heaviest calamities upon all classes
of society. The law of war, therefore, has been attributed to
the executive, in consequence of that confusion between the
fiunctions of the different departments which always takes
place in the early history of governments, and which, once
established, it is so difficult to remove.
It is true that in Great Britain and France the supplies are
voted by the legislature, and the bill must originate in the
chamber in which the deputies of the people sit. But this
sometimes is a very inadequate security against the prosecution
of wars of ambition. The structure of the government must
conspire with the social organization to throw discredit upon
such wars, and to put them entirely out of fashion. If the
manners exercise a powerful influence upon government, so
also does government exert a like influence upon the manners.
A hereditary monarch and an order of nobility, necessarily possess an amount of influence which eannot be measured by the




332             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II.
mere formal authority with which they are invested. This influence too generally begets tastes and habits incompatible
with the maintenance of peace, as the permanent policy of
the country. These will extend more or less over every part
of society, and give tone to the deliberations of the popular
branch. Although, therefore, the two states I have named,
as well as Belgium  and Holland, are better protected than
other European communities against unjust and impolitic
wars, in consequence of the steady and vigorous growth of a
middle class, the protection is very far from being complete.
The crown and aristocracy still wield a disproportioned influence, and overshadow the deliberations of the more popular
body, by contributing to prevent it from containing a genuine
representation of that middle class.  The only wise plan
therefore, is to confide the war-making power to the legislature, and to compose this body of representatives of the people. If this disposition of the power will not prevent republics from waging uiijust wars, it will at any rate render such
wars much less frequent.
In those governments where the popular representation is
very slender, the right of petition is regarded by the people
as one of the dearest they possess. In those where there is
no popular branch of the legislature, it is the only means by
which the people can cause themselves to be heard. In the
democratic republic of the United States, this right has not
the same use. The people have no need to petition a body
which is created by themselves, and reflects their own opinions. Nevertheless, it is there considered more sacred, and is
more extensively employed than in all other governments put
together. And I am  persuaded, that its importance is increased, instead of being diminished, in proportion as the
institutions assume a popular character. In absolute monarchies, such as Turkey and Russia, the right is almost entirely confined to the redress of individual grievances. An
obscure individual is permitted to carry his complaint to the
foot of the throne, for this does not at all affect the solidlyestablished authority of the monarch. It only plaaes that authority in bolder relief. But in a republic the right acquires
a far more comprehensive character: it becomes an affair of
large masses of men, who desire, in an authoritative but




CHAP. VIL.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              333
peaceable manner, to impress their opinions upon the governing authority. The opinions of an individual may sometimes
be treated lightly; the opinions of whole classes are always
entitled to notice. They are often indications of the propriety
of some change in the legislation, for which the majority will
not be prepared until public opinion has been thoroughly
sounded; or they may denote some new movement in society
which, whether for good or for evil, should have the fullest
publicity, in order to be appreciated at its real worth. The
great current of thought, which is constantly beariing the
mind forward, is quickened, or interrupted, by a great number of lesser currents, whose depth and velocity must be
measured, in order that we may determine our reckoning.
Petitions in the United States are of various kinds. Sometimes they contain the private claim of an individual upon
the government. Sometimes they relate to the interests of
agriculture, manufactures, and commerce. And in a few instances, they have been made to bear upon the political institutions themselves. The memorials accompanying the second
class of petitions have often displayed consummate research
and ability, and have shed a flood of light upon the subjects
they have handled. It would be endless to refer to all the instances in which these compositions have sustained this high
character. Two may be mentioned as samples: the memorial
of the chamber of commerce of Baltimore, on "the rule of
1756," and the report accompanying the memorial of the
merchants of Boston, in relation to the tariff; the first from
the pen of William Pinckney, the second from that of Henry
Lee. These papers are profound and elaborate disquisitions
upon subjects which have greatly perplexed both American
and European statesmen.
As the legislature is immediately-responsible to the people,
it is of the utmost consequence that every channel of communication should be opened between the two. In this way,
public opinion will exert a steady and salutary control upon
public men; and public men will endeavor to make themselves
worthy of the trust confided to them, by the display of eminent ability, and the acquisition of information relative to the
condition and interests of their state and country. In absolute government, the right of petition is an affair of individu



334              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOI IL.
als only; in a democratic republic, it is one means by which
the government and the people are more closely bound together, and the responsibility of the representatives rendered
more strict. The views and opinions which prevail in different parts of an extensive community, are necessarily very various; and the true way to reduce them to anything like uniformity, is to give free vent to the opinions of all. Notwithstanding the exceeding diversity in the modes of thinking of
individuals, we may lay it down as a safe general maxim, that
they are all in search of one thing, truth: and the mutual action of mind upon mind, although it at first increases the
sharp points in each one's character, ultimately brings all to a
better agreement. It is one distinguishing feature of American institutions, that the robust frame of the government permits it to wait the slow process through which opinions pass,
without being at all incommoded; whereas, most other governments too easily persuade themselves that opinion is noxious because it is new, and strive, therefore, by force or by influence, to stifle it in its birth.  As to the stated meeting
of the legislative body, I am of opinion, that as a general
rule, it should be annual. In seven of the American states,
the session is biennial; but an annual meeting, accompanied with the limitation of the time during which it should
sit, would be preferable.  The indirect advantages which
accrue from a political institution, are sometimes as important
as the immediate end which is intended to be accomplished.
Thus the appropriate office of a legislative assembly is to pass
laws for the government of the community; but there are
certain incidental benefits, growing out of the meeting of the
body, which are of inestimable value. We stand in need of
every help and device by which to promote the intellectual
communication of different parts of the country or state. As
is the general standard of intelligence, so will be the character of the assembly which emanates from. the people. To
frame enlightened laws, experience, judgment, and information, are all necessary. It is the necessity of exercising the
understanding about the material interests of this world,
which raises men so much above the condition of the brutes.
-I will therefore employ every means in my power to advance
the standard of popular intelligence. The capital where the




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                335
legislature sits, constitutes the center of information of the
whole state. It may be a very imperfect contrivance, after
all, for collecting the scattered rays of thought from abroad.
The assembly may contain a great deal of ignorance, and a
great deal of presumptuousness, but it very often contains a
considerable amount of sterling ability and good sense. I
think it will not be doubted, that if congress had been the
sole legislative body in America, civilization and intellectual
improvement of every kind, would not have made anything
like the progress which they have during the/last sixty years;
so true is it, that an institution, which was originally designed
to perform one office, often succeeds in performing many others equally important.
The capital is the focus of general information. It is the
place where the most important courts sit. Great numbers
are attracted there from various motives. But I observe that
the men who can impart knowledge, who can stir the faculties
of other men, invariably command most attention in the private assemblages which take place there. Individuals of very
superior minds, and who think they feel a sufficiently powerful stimulus from within to the attainment of mental distinction, may underrate the benefits which indirectly flow from
the assembling of thirty legislative bodies.  They are not
aware of the influences which have given their own minds a
firm ground to stand upon, and a wide field for observation
and inquiry. They are still more insensible to the advantages which the general mind receives in this way. Yet, it is
most certain, that the high standard of popular intelligence in
the United States is in great part attributable to the annual
meeting of the legislative assemblies.
In those states where the legislature sits biennially, there
are doubtless some good reasons for the arrangement. The
business to be transacted may be so small as not to require
annual meetings, or the state may be burdened with debt,
and may nobly resolve to adopt every practicable plan of
retrenchment, rather than be unfaithful to its engagements.
As to the basis of representation, that is, the principle on
which the legislative body should be elected, the rule in America differs greatly in different states. But notwithstanding
this variety, it may be affirmed, that the United States have




336             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOKI. II.
made a much nearer approach to a regular plan than is observable in any other country. In Great Britain, the apportionment of the representatives has always been arbitrary.
It is less so now, than before the act of 1832. There are not
so many flagrant discrepancies as formlerly, not so mnany populous cities unrepresented, nor so great a number of unpeopled
boroughs represented. But there are immense inequalities,
notwithstanding. Not only is a majority of the house of commons elected by a part only of the substantial population,
but it is elected by a minority of the legal electors. In Fran ce,
the rule is attended with more regularity. The chamber of
deputies is composed of four hundred and fifty-nine members,
who are elected by so many electoral colleges. These colleges are nothing more than assemblages of the qualified
electors, for the purpose of making the choice. They bear
that name, instead of the simpler one of the polls, so well
understood in England and the United States, because the
election is not conducted in public, but has much the charter of a secret meeting.
The number of " arrondissements," or territorial divisions,
next in size to those of the departments, is four hundred and
fifty-nine, also. The colleges are composed of the voters in
each of-rthese, so that each "arrondissement" sends one
member to the chamber of deputies. There is great inequality in the population of these territorial divisions. But notwithstanding this, there is less inequality in the apportionment of representatives than in Great Britain. The principal difference between the two countries, as regards the
composition of the popular chamber, consists in this: in
France, the basis of representation is less arbitrary; but in
Great Britain, the number of persons who possess the electoral franchise is much greater in proportion to the whole
population, than it is in France; so that the house of commons is a more popular body than the house of deputies. The
population of Great Britain and Ireland is not as large as that
of France by five or six millions; but the electors are four
times mote numerous in the former. In order to found a
popular body, both principles should be combined.  The
apportionment of the representation should be as equal as




CHAP. v:II]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               337
is practicable, and there should be a liberal rule for the exercise of the right of suffrage.
Representation may be proportioned to the gross amount
of the population, to the number of electors, to the number
of taxable inhabitants. or the basis may be a compound one,
of taxation and population; for these various rules have all
been followed in the different American states. In addition
to which there is a fifth plan, which has been adopted in
the federal government, and in a few of the southern states.
The representation in Congress, and in the lower houses of
Maryland, North Carolina, and Georgia, is determined by
adding to the whole number of free persons three-fifths of
the slaves.  In the composition of the federal senate, the
rule, as I have already remarked, is necessarily different from
all these.  But so far as regards the state governments,
the same reason doesmnot exist for making the rule of apportionment different in the one house from what it is in the
other.  Yet there is considerable diversity in this respect.
For instance: in Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and NTorth
Carolina, representation in the senate is based upon taxation;
while in the lower house it is in the two former based upon
the number of electors. In Rhode Island, South Carolina,
and Georgia, senators are distributed by a fixed rule among
different districts, without making allowance for a variation
in the population or taxation; while in the second, representatives are according to a mixed ratio of taxation and
population; and in the first, in proportion to the population,
with this exception, however, that each town or city shall
always be entitled to one member at least. In one respect,
the rule in Connecticut and Virginia is different from what
it is in the other states. The representation in both houses
proceeds upon an arbitrary, or at least conjectural, rule. In
the former, the senate is composed of twelve members, chosen
by general district, and the number of representatives from
each town is declared to be the same as it was prior to the
formation of the constitution, with this exception, that a town
afterward incorporated shall be entitled to one representative
only. In Virginia, so many senators and representatives are
distributed among different sections of the state, without
any power in the legislature to alter the apportionment. In a
22




338             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK HI.
majority of the states, the composition of the two houses
is the same, being based in both either upon the gross amount
of the population, or the number of the electors.
But notwithstanding the great variety of plans which are
adopted in the several states, the basis of representation,
either for the senate or the house, is in every one of them
far more equitable than it is in any other country.
The plan which appears to be most conformable to the
genius of free institutions, is to make population the basis
of representation. 1st. The most populous will, as a general
rule, be the most wealthy districts also. 2d. Where this is
not the case, a representation of property interferes with the
great principle of equality, as much as if we were to give to
some men a quarter or half a vote, and to others a whole
vote. If of two districts containing an equal population,
one sends a single member, and the other, in consequence of
its superior wealth, sends two members; the men of the last
have what is equivalent to two votes, when compared with
the first.
But the existence of slavery raises up a new rule in the
southern states of America, and one which contributes greatly
to complicate the question. The most wealthy will never
be the most populous districts, where slaves are not counted
as persons. If they are counted as property, there is nothing
to correspond with them  as persons. In other words, the
-very thing which is regarded as property is itself population.
Shall these half persons, half things, form the basis of representation for freemen, although they have no representation
themselves? It must be recollected, however, that this species of iDequality will exist to some extent wherever the gross
amount of the population affords the rule, whether that population is wholly free, or in part composed of freemen, and
in part of slaves. There is no way of avoiding it altogether,
but by making the number of electors the basis of representation. There are only five states, however, in which this
rule is adopted. But the number of electors and the number of the people are of course very different. The former
are male adults only; the latter include both sexes and all
ages. Is there, then, more injustice in a representation of
slaves than in one of infants'?  It may be said, that whether




CHAP T'II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               339
we make the electors or the whole free population the basis,
the distribution of representatives will be the same for all
parts of the country; that is, that the electors are every
where in the same proportion to the population. It is not the
less true, however, that some persons are made the basis of
representation, who are not themselves entitled to vote. INow
the thing which forbids their voting, to-wit: want of capacity, is the very thing which has induced all wise legislators
to inderdict the right to slaves. Moreover, the proportion of
adult males to the whole population may not be the same in
all the non-slaveholding states. This proportion is different
in an old, from what it is in a new country. And it is, for the
same reason, different in one of the new and growing states
of the American confederacy from what it is in older ones;
different in Indiana and Illinois from what it is in Massachusetts and Connecticut. And when we consider that it is not
the whole number of slaves, but three-fifths, which ever enter
as an element into the basis of representation, the rule adopted
by the federal government and three of the states has neither
the character of novelty, or of harshness. The same remarks
may be made in reference to the plan of basing representation
in one house upon taxation, to that of basing it generally upon
the number of taxable inhabitants, and to that of assigning
one senator to each town in the state. The first is the case in
New Hampshire, the second in Pennsylvania, and the third in
Rhode Island. Neither the amount of taxation, nor the number of taxable inhabitants, correspond with the number of
the electors. Minors and females will frequently be sublject
to taxation. And the Rhode Island, as well as the Virginia
plan, designedly rejects both the rules of population, and that
of the number of electors.
But I am of the opinion,, that the rule of federal numbers.
will ultimately be abolished in the three states I have named,,
although probably never in the federal goverment. I observe
that in all the new states which have been formed to the.
south, the ratio of federal numbers has been rejected. This is
the case even in Louisiana, the only state except one, where
the slaves outnumber the whites.  As the old states have
exercised a great and salutary influence upon the new, the
new will probably, in their turn, exercise a like influence upon,




340              NATURE ATND TENDENCY             [BOOK II.
the old. Their experience will be a sort of double experience;
that which their ancestors who emigrated from the. older
states handed down to them, and that which they themselves
have acquired.
But there is a stronger reason. The tendency every where
manifest, to incorporate thoroughly the principle of equality
into the political institutions, will operate to produce this
effect. The democratic principle will not lead to the emanci-pation of the blacks, for this would be to place the most demo-.cratic part of society in immediate association with them.
But it will lead to the abolition of a representation of slaves,
in the state governments, since that places different parts of
the white population on an unequal footing.
The English government, says LDe Lalme, will be no more
-when the representatives of the people begin to share in the
executive authority. But when we consider how the executive
authority in that government is constituted; that the king
possesses numerous attributes which properly belong to the,legislature, and that without any direct responsibility to the
1people; it would be much more correct to say, that the constitution will always be in jeopardy, unless the representatives
of the people succeed in appropriating to themselves some of,his vast prerogatives. The tendency of the legislature to become the predominate power in the state is visible in all the
constitutional governments of the present day. But far from
rousing apprehension, it is an unequivocal ssmptomr of the
progress of regular government. This tendency in Great Britain is more marked at the present time than when De Lalme
wrote: fit was much more so in his day than during the reign
of the Stuarts, or during those of William, or Anne. The same
changes have occurred in France. No monarch now dare go
to the legislative hall to pronounce, as Louis XV did, the dissolution of the only body which served as a counterpoise to
the throne. The whole kingdom quaked and was petrified by
that memorable discourse, because the body to whom it was
delivered had not been lifted up by the people, and was therefore unable to assert the rights of the people. The changes
which have taken place, both in Great Britain and France, so
far from endangering the executive authority, have given it




CHAP. vrI.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               341
strength; so far from filling those countries with confusion,
have promoted public tranquillity.
The preponderance of the legislative over the executive department, is the natural consequence of the system of representation. In a highly civilized community, in which the sys
tem is sure to make its appearance in one form or another, a
larger amount of legitimate business falls to the legislature
than to the executive; and that department which transacts
the greatest amount of effective business for society, is sure to
acquire the largest share of authority. We must quarrel with
the principles of representation therefore, or admit that when
the people have risen in importance, kings must part with very
many of the prerogatives which have been attributed to them.
But if the legislature is destined to become the most influential body in the state, will not the balance of every constitution be overthrown. The balance of no constitution is upheld
at all times by precisely the same means. On the contrary,
an adjustment, which may have been skillful and judicious at
one period, may afterward become very faulty, because illy
adapted to the structure of society. If this has undergone
material changes, it is most likely that the machinery by which
we propose to maintain the constitutional balance will undergo
a corresponding change. If at the present day the only way
by which an equlibrium of authority in the British government is preserved, is by denying in practice powers which are
theoretically ascribed to the king, it is plain that the day is
not very distant when the theory of the constitution will be
brought into a much nearer conformity with the practice.
For the disguised and silent transference of power from the
executive to the legislative is, in a highly advanced society,
the certain forerunner of a formal and legalized appropriation
of it by the latter.
In a representative government the legislature gains strength,
while the powers of the executive either fall into disuse, or are
distributed among a great number of administrative officers.
But the responsibility of the legislature to the whole community is also increased. We cannot then adopt the opinion of
De Lalme, but should rather insist upon it as an undeniable
truth, that when all efforts to diminish the power of the king
have become unavailing, the British constitution will be no




342              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BrOK II.
more. Every scheme for widening the basis of representation,
is a step in disguise toward lessening the real authority. The
reform act of 1832 strengthened the legislature, and saved the
constitution; and other reform acts will certainly be passed
which will humble the powerful, but add strength and security
to the government.
The preponderance of the legislative power, is the striking
fact in the history of the American governments both national
and state. No communities, to say the least, have been better
governed. And it is but-the other day, that one of the greatest
English statesmen declared that "there was no reason why
this system should not endure for ages."  It is true, all human
institutions are after all very imperfect. All fall infinitely
short, not only of what is conceivable, but very far short of
what is practicable. Let us cherish what we have, as the
only means of extending the limits of the practicable. Some
future generation may be able to do what now seems impossible: to resolve the great problem of the social, as the
present have resolved that of the political equality of men.
All that is necessary to this end is to cause all men to obey
the precepts of virtue, and to become educated. It is clear'that there is no absolute impracticability in the first; and
although the last, in the extended sense in which I use the
term -educated, is now totally inconsistent with the multiform,
subordinate, and laborious employments of society, yet I am.persuaded, that if the first is ever accomplished, the second
will be made to follow, through instrumentalities of which we
canoonly obtain an indistinct glance.
The opinion of Montesquieu is more plausible, because it is
nore vague and ambiguous, than than that of De Laline. The'
English constitution, says Montesquieu, will be no more, when
the legislative becomes more corrupt than the executive. But
to this term, corrupt, we are entitled to give a more extended
meaning than is generally attributed to it. A legislative body
is corrupt, when its members procure their seats by bribery
and other sinister practices. This was the case when Montes
quieu wrote, and it is to be feared that it is too much the case
now.  But a legislative body is still more corrupt, when exercising not merely the ordinary legislative power, but representing the sovereignty of the state, it permits, century after cen



CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               343
tury, the grossest inequalities in the representation, without
adopting some plan of remedying therm. A legislative body
is corrupt when, holding the relation of guardian to a sister
island, it permits the most wanton oppression to be practiced
upon large bodies of men, because their religious creed was
not the same as its own. All these things, and many more,
were practiced, and undertaken to be justified, when "the
spirit of laws" was written. And yet the English constitution, as it then existed, was the beau ideal of government with
Montesquieu. It is one advantage of free institutions, that
they discountenance certain political vices, by putting them
out of fashion. Time out of mind, there has been a constant
tendency to exaggerate the vices of the weak, and to extenuate those of the powerful, because the powerful lead the fashion. And if the British parliament has relaxed its severities
toward Ireland, has opened its doors to catholics, and placed
the representation in other respects, on a more equal footing,
we must not conclude that it has become more corrupt; that
it has usurped power, although these things do in reality increase the power of the legislature, and render it more than
ever a counterpoise to the executive.








BOOK III.
CHAPTER  I.
RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS.
THERE is an argument in favor of an established church,
contained in Mr. Hume's History of England, which, on account of its extreme ingenuity, is entitled to great considera
tion. He admits that almost all the arts and sciences, which
administer to the instruction of mankind, may be safely left
to the voluntary efforts of those who undertake to teach them;
but he contends that religious doctrines constitute an exception to the rule. This eminent writer supposes that the violent
and immoderate zeal of different sects, each striving by every
art and device to gain proselytes to its cause, will be productive of interminable contention, and that in this way the tranquility and good order of the state will be deeply affected.
He proposes, therefore, as the only cure for the evil, to give
one sect the supremacy; in other words, to create an established church. But the mischief which Mr. Hume was desirous of curing, lies much deeper than in the mere number or
the discordant opinions of different sects. It is to be traced
solely to the mixture of politics and religion. It is the officious interference of the civil magistrate with religion, and the
unbecoming interference of religious sects with state affairs,
which whets the spirit of proselytism, and furnishes incentives
additional to, and foreign to, those which the spirit of Christianity suggests to enslave the minds of men. By giving one
sect a religious establishment, religion is converted into an
engine of government, and instead of curing, we only give a




346             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOIK II.
different direction, to the mischief. The zeal of religious
parties is more inflamed by withholding from them privileges
which are bestowed upon the established church, than would
be the case if all were placed upon an equal footing. To be
placed under the ban of public opinion, to be subjected to
some disability or disadvantage which'does not attach to
other men, is a powerful and not always a commendable motive for making unusual exertions to diminish the influence of
the last. There is no effectual plan, therefore, of doing justice
to all sects and reconciling the great interests of religion with
those of the community, but dissolving the connection between
church and state, and so administering civil affairs that no
sect, in the propagation of its doctrines, shall draw to itself
any part of the authority which appertains to government.
Our speculations of any sort hardly ever rise much higher
than the age in which we live. The use of all our knowledge
is to be employed about the actual phenomena which are submitted to us; and it is the phenomena which surround us
which rouse in us all our aptitude for thinking, and supply all
the information which we are able to attain. Books give us
the history of the past, while all philosophical speculation has
reference to the present. But to be successful in our inquiries
we must witness the development, up to a certain point, of
the events which are submitted to us. In no other way can
we make any sure calculation of the results. The superiority
of some minds to others, often consists in the opportunity
afforded to take advantage of the favorable point of view.
When Mr. Hume wrote, religious establishments had existed from time immemorial, and yet religious quarrels and religious conspiracies had constantly disturbed the peace of
society. Neither the edict of Nantz, nor the English act of
toleration, extinguished them. If he had lived at the present
day, and witnessed the great advantages which have attended
the abolition of a state religion in America, his views would
have been more just, because more comprehensive, and he
would have been led to a different conclusion.. Warburton
would not even then have been convinced.
The late Dr. Arnold, however, a most able and estimable
man, in an appendix to his lectures on history, has insisted
upon the right and the duty of the state to take the affairs of




CHAP. i. ]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               347
religion under its superintendence.  His notions of the office
and functions of the civil magistrate are such, that he would
have government ordain the maxims of religion as laws, on
the same principle that it makes any other enactments for the
regulation of the citizens.  If the public weal requires the
imposition of taxes by a legislative body, for the same reason
is it supposed that the public weal demands that the cardinal
rules of religion should have the same authoritative sanction
affixed to them.
These are the views of a man who hated every species of
oppression, and who was sincerely and thoroughly devoted to
the good of his fellow creatures. But although he can in no
sense be said to have been wedded to a sacerdotal caste, yet
it is evident that the institutions under which he lived exercised a powerful influence upon him, and communicated a
tincture to all his opinions upon this subject. The plan of
which he has given a sketch (for it is attended with such inherent difficulties that it will only admit of a sketch), is met by
two arguments which it is difficult to answer, because they
are both deduced from experience, and from experience on a
very broad scale. And first, it is an undoubted fact, that
there is as strong a sentiment of religion and morality pervading the American people, as exists among any other, and
much stronger than among the great majority of nations who
have had a state religion. In the second place, it will be admitted that if people would voluntary consent to pay their taxes, or
if they would faithfully comply with all their private contracts,
and abstain from the commission of personal injuries, there
would be no necessity for the intervention of government, by
the appointment of tax gatherers, and the establishment of
courts of justice. This is not the case however in matters of
this kind; but it is so in all religious concerns. Men do actually discharge their religious duties, not as well as could be
desired, but infinitely better than when the state interferes to
exact the performance of them. The very reasons therefore
which render it incumbent on the state to interpose for the
protection of one set of interests lest they should fall to decay,
prompt it to abstain from intermeddling with another set lest
they also should fall to decay. It is immaterial whether we




348             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK III.
call one class secular, and the other religious interests: we
may call both secular, or both religious; but it will not follow
that the actions which fall within these two classes should be
subjected to the same discipline. The true theory then is,
that in as much as religion creates a relation between God
and man, the religious sentiment is necessarily disturbed by
the intervention of the civil magistrate.
It is not necessary to notice the intrinsic difficulties which
would attend the scheme of Dr. Arnold, if it were attempted
to be put in practice. Shall the maxims of religion, which
are proclaimed by the civil magistrate as laws, be subjected
to the interpretation of catholics, or episcopalians, of presbyterians, or unitarians? Every attempt to prop up religion,
by such a feeble instrumentality, would end in covering religion
with dishonor.
There is another view which may be taken in reference to
Mr. Hlume's plan. The clergy of an established church, from
their position in society, and their acquaintance with much of
the literature and philosophy of the day, have much to do
with the education of youths. Now, it is an undoubted fact,
that the progress of religious inquiry is closely connected with
that of philosophical inquiry; that freedom of thought in the
one, contributes to enlightened views in the other; and that
the true way to promote knowledge, is to extend the utmost
latitude to all kindred pursuits. If it were only a question
with regard to the progress of knowledge among the clergy
themselves, this view would be of importance; but when it is
recollected that they stand at the head of the schools of education, and thus assist in training to thought and speculation
all the minds which are destined to figure in society in any
way, the question becomes one of still greater magnitude.
For although an ecclesiastical establishment, with freedom of
worship to dissenters, is greatly preferable, to the supreme
dominion of one sect; yet the evil is only mitigated, not cured,
in that way. In place of the authority of the law giver, the
influence of the law giver is substituted. And no one need be
told, that the influence of government has a wonderful efficacy
in repressing the efforts of the human mind, as well among
those whom it takes under its patronage, as among those
whom it discards from its countenance and favor.




CHAP. I.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 349
The plan of curing the dissensions of religious sects, by
giving monarchical rule to one of them, is a kin to the error
which prevails in politics, that it is necessary to confer supreme authority on a prince, or body of nobles, in order to
extinguish civil dissensions.  Whereas, the true maxim  is,
that the peace of society is never in so much danger, as when
authority of any sort is consolidated, and never so well
guarded as when it is dispersed. Power may be condensed in
ecclesiastical as well as in political institutions; and the
scheme on which the American people have proceeded in religious affairs, is only an amplification of the great principle
of the distribution of power. It is a mistake to suppose,'that
if some sects are disfranchised, they are therefore deprived of
the ability to do mischief. On the contrary, their zeal and
activity are increased, and their efforts are sure to take a
direction prejudicial to the public tranquility. We seek to
shut them out from all interference with political questions by
endowing one denomination with extraordinary privileges,
and they are thereby more completely drawn within the vortex of politics. In other words, oecause religious parties are
disconnected with the state, it does not therefore follow that
they are disconnected with the political world. The sect
between which and the state art alliance is formed, or which
stands in the relation of dependent to the state, as its head,
will naturally exercise its influence in favor of the government, and the dissenting sects will throw their influence in the
opposite direction. These behold their own government as
the author of the disabilities under which they labor, and
only wait for a favorable opportunity to crush an authority so
unnatural and so revolting to all persons of good sense. Ireland is an example on a great scale, and the American commonwealth, before the thorough dissolution of the connection
between church and state, is an example on a small one. And
even in England, from the commencement of the French revct
lution to the present day, political disputes have derived much
of their acerbity from the same source. It is easy to see that
all questions of parliamentary refobrm receive a complexion
from the views and influence of the dissenting sects. It is
equally easy to perceive, that many other projects, of a still




350             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK III.
more sweeping character, and which are only smothered, not
destroyed, are engendered by the same cause.
It is now proved that the greatest interest which can occupy
the mind of man-that which is fitted above all others to engage his attention from the age of puberty to the grave-may
be entirely withdrawn from the care of the civil magistrate,
and that both religious and secular interests will be thereby
subserved. The plan of an established church was at one
time adopted in all the American states, except Pennsylvania
and IRhode Island. The nature of the establishment was, to
be sure, not the same in all. In Massachusetts, Connecticut,
New York, Maryland, Virginia, and South Carolina, the connection between church and state was as strict as in Great
Britain. In the others it existed in a modified form. Iu all of
them  this connection has been entirely dissolved; in the
greater part, soon after the revolution. But it was not until
the year 1816, that it was thoroughly put an end to in Connecticut; and not until the year 1833, that the finishing blow
was given to it in Massachusetts.*  Men of all denominations
in every one of these states-those who were most opposed to
the introduction of the new system-now acknowledge that it
has been productive of great benefit to both church and state.
There is more religious harmony, and consequently a greater
degree of political tranquility, because simply there is nothing
to pamper the power of one sect, and to provokle the hostility
of others  As the connection, wherever it exists, is established by the laws, the sects who feel themselves aggrieved
will take an active part in all political elections, for the purpose of delivering themselves from the burden of which they
complain.  Thus, in Connecticut, where the congregational
sect was the favored one, all other denominations, episcopalians, baptists, methodists, and universalists, united themselves closely together in order to uproot the laws; and after
years of struggle, which occasioned painful heartburnings in
every part of society, they at last succeeded in gaining a majority in the legislature, and acquiring that Christian liberty
to which all men are entitled. So in Virginia, after the revolution: all the dissenting sects combined to influence the
f Religion in America, by R. Baird, pp. 115, 116.




CHAP. I.         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               351
elections, as it was only in that way that the episcopal, which
was the established church, could be deprived of the authority and privileges which had been conferred upon it. The debate, which resulted in the dissolution of church and state,
was one of the most stormy which has occurred in the Virginia legislature.
This great question, as to the political constitution of the
church, agitated the German reformers at the commencement
of the reformation. They were exceedingly anxious to get rid
of the supremacy of princes in everything which related to
the interests of religion. But they could conceive no way of
doing this but by placing themselves under the dominion of an
ecclesiastical hierarchy. Vain and fruitless expedient; for an
ecclesiastical hierarchy will ever terminate in an alliance between church and state. It was reserved for the American
states to solve this difficult problem. And the religious institutions of this country may be said to be the last and most
important effort which has been made in completing that great
revolution which commenced in the sixteenth century.
I have alluded to the unfavorable influence which an ecclesiastical establishment has upon the progress of knowledge
and the general freedom of thought. This influence is very
striking in everything which concerns the political interests
of the state. The ministers of an established church look
with singular complacency upon the abuses which have crept
into the state; since to question or discountenance them
would be to impair materially the authority which assists in
upholding themselves.  Civil government is as much the
creature of improvement as any other human interest; and
whatever operates as a restraint upon inquiry, raises up
obstacles to this end; the more formidable, as those who create them are insensible of their influence. The alliance between the government and a powerful and influential priesthood, enables secular princes to defy public opinion. The
minds of men, pressed by the combined weight of superstition and authority, are slow to fiend out anything wrong in a
system to which they and their ancestors have been habituated: and people soon persuade themselves that the king has
the same right to govern the state which God has to govern
the world.




352            NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BnooK II.
Many causes may contribute to counteract this influence.
No nation is permitted in the nineteenth century to sit securely locked up in its own institutions, without receiving
numerous influences from  abroad. The communication between the people of different countries is more constant now
than it was between the people of the same country a century
ago. In Great Britain it is in spite of, not in consequence of,
the connection between church and state, that the general
mind has been borne onward in the march of improvement.
The existence of an established church has produced what
Mr. Hume was desirous of avoiding: it has multiplied the
number of dissenters from the church of England; so that
instead of being an inconsiderable body, as formerly, they
now stand, in England and Wales, in something like the proportion of six millions to nine millions. And it is not improbable that the growth of their numbers, joined to the
superior energy which they possess, may at some not very
distant day, bring about the same revolution, and by the
same means, as was accomplished in Connecticut and Virginia.
The clergy of the established church in England were at
the head of the party which first stimulated the American
and then the French war. There was but one of the English
prelates who voted against the first; the Bishop of Llandaff
was the only one who declared himself in opposition to the
second. The African slave trade-the barbarities of which
are so shocking to every mind of humanity-was vindicated
in parliament by nearly the whole body of prelates; so that
Lord Eldon was heard to declare that a traffic, which he had
learned to believe was the most infamous in which human
beings could engage, could hardly be so inconsistent with the
principles of Christianity.* It was the bench of bishops who
opposed most vehemently the reform bill, an act demanded
by every consideration of prudence, not to say, of justice and
equity; and the only possible objection to which is, that it
did not go far enough. If we inquire what body of men have
been most lukewarm  in the cause of popular instruction,
who most hostile to the noble efforts of lRomilly and MacBlack Book, pp. 6 and 7.




fIIAP. I.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                    353
kintosh, to ameliorate the provisions of the criminal code;
the answer is the same; it was the clergy of the established
church, who exerted themselves directly or indirectly to
thwart these improvements.
It is clear, then, that the clergy of an established church,
in consequence of their close connection with the crown, the
elevated position which they occupy in the state, and their
power of influencing the people, may become an engine in the
hands of government, capable of being wielded as effectually
as the army or navy.
That the principle of religion is absolutely necessary to
hold together the elements of civil society, is a proposition
which will be doubted by few. It is so, not merely as has
been supposed, because it presides over a large class of actions
of which the civil magistrate cannot take cognizance, but because it lies at the foundation of all our notions of right, and
prevents, in innumerable instances, the commission of crimes
which are punishable by the civil magistrate.  Indeed it is
doubtful, if huLnan affairs were delivered over to the conduct
of beings in whom the religious sentiment was not the miaster
pritciple, whether the terms civil magistrate and laws would
have any signification, anrd whether the universal licenthiousness which would )revail, involving, as it must, both mlgistrate and citizen, would not disable any cornrmiuity fromtL upholdling institutions which  were calculated  to redress anud
punish crime.
It may be supposed, that if the religious p)irnciple is of so
great importance to the well beitlg of society, that it shlould
in some way or other eniter as ant elemetrt inlto the,general
legislation; arid adlmittilg that an established c}hurch is as inconsistent with the spirit of Chri tianity as it is wuith the
genius of free institutions;. et that there! are a  nnllther of
ways in which the laws might inlterf'ere, ill order to sen(ute the
observance of religious (duties.  Bolt it, is not in the po)we of
human legislation to reach all the actiots of mell,, arld alt hlugh
this might be thought to be a great (eltfct, ill the cinstitrltion.
of hiuman nature, yet ini realit3, it is a, awi6se [)rovi.mio,, c;n lculated to streigthen the religious se}timhnent., ad to cultixv;ate a
pure and geniuiiie norality.  F'or it the, Iawvs weree to o-vershadlow the whole circle of humanL actions, mten wo)uld lte con23




354              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IMI.
verted into mere automata, religion into an empty ceremonial,
and nothing'being left to the natural impulse of the heart,
the fountain from which the laws derive their chief strength
would be dried up.
It is, to be sure, difficult to determine always what are the
exact limits of legislation-to distinguish between those actions with which government should interfere, and those which
it should let alone. But although the precise boundary between the two is invisible, yet in practice it is easy to find it.
Something must go behind the laws, which cannot therefore
be itself the subject of legislation.
A very eminent writer, and one of the greatest statesmen
France has produced, Benjamin Constant, is opposed to an
established church; but he believes it to be necessary that the
clergy should be salaried by the government. This is one
step in advance of the other European states, for it is not the
clergy of one, but of all, denominations who are intended to
be provided for. Great ideas seldom spring up in the mind
more than half-formed.  The understandings of the wisest
men are in a state of continual pupilage. And here is one of
the most powerful and enlightened advocates of civil and religious freedom, who desires in the mildest manner possible,
to cement the religious interest of the people with their political institutions. He who is master of my income, possesses
an influence over my actions, and if he is clothed with political power, he possesses something more than influence —he possesses authority. Benjamin Constant supposes, that the clergy
will not be adequately rewarded, unless the state interposes to
provide for them. And yet in America, where the voluntary
principle is universally introduced, the ministers of religion
are much more liberally paid than in France. The amount
raised for this purpose in the United States, with a population
of twenty millions, is nearly eleven millions of dollars. In
France, the population of which is thirty-two or three millions, it is not much more than nine millions of dollars. The
compensation which the American clergy receive is larger than
is paid in any state of continental Europe. It is double what
it is in Austria, or Russia, and quadruple what it is in Prussia.
The plan proposed by BeDjamin Constant has been incorporated into the constitutional "charte " of 14th August, 1830.




CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 355
In some respects, it resembles the system which formerly prevailed in two of the New England states. Both plans may be
characterized as a species of modified connection between.
church and state. In Massachusetts, the parish or township
imposed the tax necessary to the support of the clergy. In
one respect, this is infinitely preferable to the French system;
for in the first, the duty of defraying the expense was devolved
upon the local jurisdiction where the church was situated;
while in the last, being collected by the government, a system
of universal centralization is established, both in church and
state. But in another respect, the French system is most entitled to approbation; for it distributes the reward among all
Christian sects; —while in Massachusetts, it was reserved for
ministers of the Prostestant faith exclusively. The Massachusetts scheme was a relic of those institutions which were
planted during the early settlement of the colony when the
Presbyterian church was the established religion. The constitution of 1780 effected a great change in this respect. The
funds collected, instead of being appropriated to the support
of one denomination, were reserved for that sect to which the
majority of voters in the township belonged. But the minority,
however large, were thus compelled to support a clergyman of
a different faith than their own; ard were frequently deprived
of the building which they had themselves erected. Like the
English system the people were obliged to maintain a clergyman to whose creed they were conscientiously opposed. It was
not until 1833 that this last remnant of superstition was obliterated, and the union of church and state finally terminated in
America.
An established church is in no way subservient to the interests of religion, or the good government of the state. It does
not allay the feuds between rival sects; it only inflames their
zeal. It is surprising when Mr. iHume had advanced so far as
to admit of toleration to all dissenters, that the same process
of reasoning had not conducted him to the end, and persuaded
him that if such happy consequences were the fruit of removing some part of the unnatural restraint imposed by the civil.
magistrate, that still more salutary effects would follow fromn
removing it altogether.
An ecclesiastical hierarchy does not contribute to the promos




356                NATURE AND TENDENCY                   [BOOIK III.
tion of religion, among either people or clergy.  Its tendency
is directly the reverse.  It lays the foundation for wide-spread
irreligion and immorality.  The cost of the church establishment in England is as great as in all the states of continental
Europe put together.  But a large proportion of the clergy
have no more connection with their congregations, than if they
resided in America.  They receive the stipend, and employ
deputies for a pitiful sum to perform the duty.  Nor can it be
otherwise, when the abominable system of pluralities prevails
so extensively, and when the minister is entirely independent
of bis congregation for his salary, and may not even be the
mnan of their choice.  The church establishment costs abo(ut
forty millions of dollars, and out of this en)ormo)us sum  not
half a million is paid to the four thousand two hunudred aind
fifty-four curates, who are for the most part enpl)loyed to do
the real and effective duty.  Not only have the con)gregaltion
of the cstablished church no voice in the choice of their iminister; the right of presentation is as much the sublject of traffic:as the public stocks, or any other comInodity in the market.'The consequence is that immorality and liclntiousness p revail'to a fearful  extent, among a large,proportion of the Enlglish,clergy.  The mere ceremonial of religion is substituted in the:place of religion itself; and may be saidl to constitute the sys-'tem of modern indulgences, by which men lpurc'tiase for themselves an exempt1tion from. reproach;-a system   which does not
differ essentially from that preached in the sixteenth century;
but simp)15 conformable to the fa,shion of this (lay, as the other
was to the age of Leo the tenth: so thait unlless Ca secomld
Luther ap)pears, the day may not be distant when persons in
whom  t-he religious sentiment is not extict, nIay set themuselves about inquiring whether, in ordler to be rehligicous, it 1may
not be IIecessary to abstain froin gointg' to (luiich.  In the
UTlnited States, although there is mnuc.h conlll'ected vwith this,matter whic.h is calculated to lmake a thouightfuil mindl pontder,
yet it cannot be doubted (since we have tlhe test illly 0of impar-;tial Euroleatls) that the observanr(ce f reli-gious (liuties is Imore
-Striet, a,1(1 thle,cond() ct of the, clergy  Jore free'frna  rte)roach,;than in t)he great majority of the Europ,)eanl states.  Inldeed it
may be do~ubted whlether, if tlhere, were no viaitlus clergymuen,,there would be any infidels.




CH.AP. I ]       OF FREE INSTiTUTIONS.                357
The ecclesiastical establishments of Europe and the United
States, then, present this difference: that in the former, the
clergyman is independent of his congregation for his place
and salary, while in the latter he is entirely dependent upon
it for both. The American system is productive of one mischief. The minister is sometimes obliged to wink at many
improprieties among his congregation, in order to retain his
popularity. But there is no way of avoiding this, but by encountering still greater difficulties. Any scheme is preferable
to one which would give us a fox-hunting, card-playing clergy,
or a clergy which could afford to be slothful and idle because
they were opulent. In the European system, corruption commences at the fountain head. MAlen cannot deliver themselves
from it, if they were so disposed; and the new habits of thinking, which are inculcated by the example of those in high
places, render them indifferent about doing so even if they
were able.
In an American congregation, I can always discern some
persons who are sincerely religious. But the minister is
equally dependent upon all the members of his congregation:
upon those who desire to see him true to the faith, as well as
upon those who would have him countenance a lax and fashonable morality. Some compromise must take place between
these two different classes. Those who are indifferent, do not
wish to separate themselves from the rest of the congregation
in order to choose a minister more to their taste. This is
(most generally) the very last thing they would desire. Independently of the increascd expense they would incnur, and independently of the odium which would follow from an open
rupture, there is that sense of justice among the great majority of mankind, that they respect virtue wherever it is to
be found, and admire nothing so much as a fearless and unwavering performance of duty, even though it may interfere
with their own practice. I observe, among an American congregation, a very general willingness, on the part of those
who are indifferent to religion, to defer to the opinion of those
who are sincere. They distrust their own judgment and feel
as if they had no right to command, where they had never
learned to obey. The influence which is exercised in these
ways is highly salutary,. The clergyman feels that his moral




358             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK III.
power after all depends upon the religious part of his congregation; and those of his hearers who would have had things
conducted after a different manner-who perhaps joined the
congregation to promote their worldly interests —are at last
pursuaded, that if religion be true, religion must be preached.
All parties are in this way made better than they would otherwise be. The sagacious clergyman, with his eye ever intent
upon the action of so many apparently contradictory motives,
and not wishing to dash the prospect of doing good, but
rather to make everything turn up for the best, does not relax
the strictness of his preaching, but dismisses that tone of
authority which is so prevalent among the clergy of an established church. -He uses the most straight-forward, and yet the
most gentle means to accomplish his object. He renders the
good, better; and wins over many who would be irritated,
perhaps forever alienated, by a contrary course. So true is
it, that a fashionable clergyman is not, therefore, a. popular
one, that I have known many instances in the United States,
of pastors dismissed by their congregations for levity and unbecoming manners, and very few where they were dismissed
in consequence of a fearless and upright discharge of their
duties.
In France, not only are the clergy dependent for their salary upon the government; they are dependent upon it for
their places. The league between church and state is even
closer than in Great Britain. In the last the minister collects
his own tithes; in the first, government receives and disburses
the taxes which are imnposed for this purpose. The king of
France nominates the archbishops, thirteen in number; he
also nominates all the bishops. Both these orders of ecclesiastics receive canonical investiture from the pope, and make
solemn oath to the king, as a condition precedent to entering
upon the discharge of their functions. The bishops, on the
other hand, nominate all the inferior clergy; but these nominations, with some exceptions, are submitted to the king, who
may either reject or ratify them.
Another remarkable feature in this system consists in the
control which the crown exercises over the clergy of the protestant church. This church is presided over by the ministers,
by consistorial assemblies, and by synods. But the election




CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                359
of a pastor, although it is made by the consistory, must receive the approbation of the king in order to be valid; and
although the synods may make regulations relative to church
discipline and doctrine, yet their decisions are obliged to be
submitted to the king for his approval. Nor have the syntlods
liberty to assemble without the permission of the government.
The state is not satisfied with being the head of one church;
it is the head of all. It reigns supreme, not merely over the
predominant sect, but over all sects. Like the Grecian and
Roman commonwealths, it takes all denominations under its
guardianship, and establishes all by law. Doubtless this
state of things is greatly to be preferred to that which formerly existed, when this fine country was as much distracted
by religious strife as it was by political dissensions. The step
which has been taken toward the promotion of religious freedom is immense. And if government does interpose at all in
ecclesiastical matters, it may be said with a good deal of justice,
that inasmuch as the clergy of all denominations are provided
for by law, all denominations should come under the supervision of the law.
But the introduction of the voluntary principle, which now
prevails universally in America, is a prodigious step in advance of what any other government has attempted. It is a
system "sui generis," and has grown up silently and steadily,
without attracting much observation from abroad. Nevertheless, I regard this complete severance of church and state as
the "'chef d'ieuvre " in ecclesiastical government, and as redounding more to the political tranquillity of the state than
any single civil regulation which has ever been -made. The
connection between all secular and religious interests is
strengthened, just in proportion as the connection between
government and church is weakened.
The rise of a sacerdotal caste in the United States seems to
be forbidden by the great multiplication of sects. Religious
and civil liberty are both protected by the same means. The
unbounded freedom of thought which pervades every class of
society creates the greatest diversity of opinions; and the
influence which is possessed by any one sect is modified and
controlled by the influence of all others. Each wants to be




360             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [TBOOK III
free; but none can succeed in obtaining freedom, unless all
are permitted to enjoy it.
When one surveys the vast establishments of our bible,
missionary, and other societies; when one considers the
princely revenues which are received by some of the churches
-in one instance almost vieing with those of an eastern
prince —the thought may very naturally cross the mind of one
who is least disposed to take exception to anything, because
it is not in conformity with his preconceived notions, whether
all these things may not ultimately terminate in raising up an
ecclesiastical hierarchy similar to what exists in most other
countries. Religion was everywhere first preached in simplicity; but wealth and prosperity, in numerous instances,
corrupted the clergy, who sought to conceal this deplorable
change from the multitude, by assuming more pomp, arrogating more authority, and causing the unintelligibleness of their
doctrines to keep even pace with the degeneracy of their
manners. It is in this way that a sacerdotal caste, as distinguished from an independent religion, has been established in
so many countries. Nor do I pretend to assert that there is
any absolute certainty the United States will be saved from
this destiny; nor that the approach to it may not even be
more gradual and more concealed from public observation
than it has been anywhere else. One way to guard against a
public evil is to persuade every one that its existence is possible. The watchfulness and circumspection which are thus
created, present innumerable obstacles in the way of those
who might be disposed to abandon the simplicity of religious
worship in order to build up a gorgeous fabric of superstition.
When we consider that not only are powerful religious associations constantly springing up in the United States, but
that government and religious sects do not stand upon the
same vantage ground, there might seem to be an additional
reason for feeling alarm. The state is forbidden by all the
American constitutions from intermeddling with religion; but
the clergy are not forbidden to interfere with the affairs of
state. They are not only at liberty to inculcate political doctrines from the pulpit, but under the federal, and most of the
state constitutions, they are eligible to seats in the legislative
body, and may hold other important offices. An immunity,




CHAP..]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                361
however, is not of equal advantage to all, unless all are
equally able to turn it to account. The clergy and the laity
may be placed on the same footing, so far as regards the mere
possession of a privilege, but they may not be able to exercise
it with the same facility. Now I observe among the people
generally, a marked disapprobation of everything like political harangues from the pulpit. I observe an equally general
disinclination to elect ministers of the gospel to civil offices.
The constitutional ordinance, which prohibits the government
from interfering with religion, is founded upon the notion that
religion is something beyond and above human legislation,
and that to mix the two incongruously together would be to
do violence to both. No class is more sensible of this than
the clergy themselves. They feel that to mingle in the disputes of political parties, is to desert a strong for a weak
position; that although an inflammatory harangue from the
pulpit, or a seat inr the legislature, may give them a temporary
or local popularity, yet they lose in the same proportion, in
point of weight and iifluence, as clergymen.  The consequence is, that no class of men are so unambitious of political
preferment, and (with very few exceptions) it is with exceeding caution and distrust that they venture to touch upon the
political questions which divide the community.
But it is the great multiplicity of sects in the United States
which constitutes the chief security against the growth of an
ecclesiastical hierarchy. The same causes which act upon political parties, act upon religious sects. Whenever one party
in the state is disposed to carry things with a high hand, and
to arrogate to itself an exclusive authority, the alarm is instantly given, and hostile opinions grow up, which tend to
counterbalance its authority. And as soon as one religious
sect gives promise of becoming an aristocratic body, other
denominations vie with each other in calling back the minds
of men to the pure doctrines and manners which originally
distingnished the christian community.  It even happens
sometimes that two or more sects are formed out of one. An
incompatibility of views, arising out of causes similar to those
I have mentioned, produces a schism in a whole denomination,
and leads to a still greater multiplicity of sects. We have
seen a remarkable example of this in the United States within




362             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK III.
a few years. The three most numerous sects, the presbyterians, baptists and methodists, have been rent in twain, in consequence of dissensions among themselves. And although
the interpretation given to some doctrines, or a desire to
effect a change in some form or other of church government
and discipline, have been put forward as the causes of these
disagreements, I think I can discern behind them some other
more powerfully operating motives. Thus to take a single example: although the new-school separated from the old-school
presbyterians chiefly in consequence of objections to the doctrine of the necessity of the will, which the latter maintained,
a doctrine which probably no argument will ever shake, yet it
is possible for a religious sect to build up a well-compacted
system of doctrines, and then, forgetting that this after all
constitutes but the skeleton of religion, to fall down and worship it, instead of worshiping religion. I think I observed a
strong desire on the part of those who seceded, to introduce
more warmth into religious exercises, and a more practical
manner of teaching and expounding the truths of christianity.
If I could fasten upon any causes which will arrest this
multiplication of sects, I might then be able to discern the
existence at some future day of a sacerdotal caste in America.
Extreme indifference to religion, if it pervaded all classes,
would undoubtedly have this effect. The institution would
degenerate into a mere form, and then a pompous ceremonial.
The priesthood would acquire power in proportion to the little
interest which the general population felt in religion. And
the manners of men would be molded into the form best calculated to fortify the worldly authority of the clergy. Where
an universal indifference prevailed, there could be no incentive
to diversity of opinion, and the distinction of sects would
cease.
Will the same causes which threaten every where to demolish the idea of kingly rule, be equally fatal to the notion of a
single ruler of the universe? Is the unity of the Governor of
the universe so allied with that of a human governor, that if
all traces of the last should be obliterated, religion would be
in danger of being undermined? If it be true, that in other
countries what are termed the enlightened classes are infidels
at heart, and only profess religion because they believe it is a




CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                363
check upon the masses, what will be the consequence when
the thorough dissemination of instruction renders the great
majority of the people well informed? I predict, that if ever
the spread of equality is fatal to the notion of unity in religion, it will not give rise to a plurality of gods; it will sweep
all religion from the face of the earth, and satan will be literally unchained, to turn earth into hell. I cannot but believe,
that when the North American continent contains a population of one or two hundred millions, all speaking the same
language and impelled by an irresistible curiosity to make inquiry into everything; that when the sameness of manners and
sameness of dialect have opened free access to every one's
thoughts and schemes, it will exert an influence such as has
never been witnessed upon the progress of knowledge, the
social organization, and the religious institutions. But I am
of opinion that the diffusion of equality will be fatal to the
worldly authority of priests, and that the right modeling the
authority ot civil magistrates will add wonderfully to the reverence for God. I find that the greater the range of inquiry
of a single mind, the more diverse the objects which it takes
in the more certain it is of arriving at some general and presiding truths. There is. nothing, therefore, in the diversified
views of religious or political sects, which is hostile to the notion of a Supreme Governor of the universe.
It is true, until very modern times, the popular mind was
unaccustomed to meddle with the subject of religion. Now, it
approaches that as well as every other interest belonging to
man, and grapples with religious creeds with the same freedom which it employs in attacking political opinions. The
unlimited range of inquiry, subjects every institution to the
most fearless and unscrupulous examination.  Is there not
danger, then, not that a passive indifference, but an universal
unbelief, may seize upon the minds of men, and succeed in
thoroughly rooting out the principle of religion?
There are some things which it is not in the power of man
to accomplish, although these things have to do with his own
interests exclusively. He cannot alter the structure of the
human understanding, nor extirpate the affections of Vhe heart.
In every estimate or conjecture which we may form of the destiny of our race, we are safe in reposing upon these as unde




364              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [OOKf III.
niable truths. We can make no certain calculation in regard
to individuals, so as to say what their conduct will be under
particular circumstances; but with regard to the race of mankind, we may predict with absolute certainty. We are obliged
to believe that the religious sentiment will never be extinguished upon the same, although not any higher, ground than
that which convinces that insanity or idiocy will not be the
lot of the human species, or that the private affections and
desires, which have animated the heart since the first formation of man to the present time, will never be eradicated.




CHAP. II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                365
CHAPTER 11.
INSTITUTIONS FOR THE EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE.
THE great use of popular education, in a political view, consists in its incapacitatiLg the people for any other than free
institutions. Education tames ambitious men, and presents
new motives and a, new theater of action. It trains the people
to a due sense of their weight in society, gives them new habits,
new modes of thinking, and a different style of manners. In
this way they not only acquire a decided taste for such institutions-they become morally unable to adopt any other. When
the great bulk of the population is uneducated, a few men of
ill-regulated ambition, banded together, may wield an irresistible influence in the community; but where popular instruction is widely disseminated, the additional power which is imparted to the mass acts as a perpetual counterpoise to this ambition. If the man who craves after public listinction is well informed, and expert in debate, so also will be the sons of the peo.
ple. The former may set himself about studyin g the people, and
may cal( ulate upon success in proportion to his adroitness in
moving their prejudices; but the lattef acquire an equal facility
in diving into the depths of all his motives. Those qualities
which were dangerous when confined to a few, will be of unspeakable advantage when dispersed amonrg a very nutmerous
body. Education, then, is a constituent part of the plan of
free institutions.
In some countries politicians who are bent upon their own
aggrandizement, acquire an exaggerated notion of the importanceof striking upon the imaginations of the people.  But
this is an instrument difficult to use where a system of popular
instruction is introduced.  Knowledge, information, habits of
reflection, especially where these are employed about the daily
business of life, act as a wonderful damper upon all -flights of
the imagination. Nothing is more amu ing, and at the same
time more instructive, than to witness the awkward behavior




366             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK III.
of some men of untaught or unteachable minds, in a country
where the people have acquired an elevated position. They
want to imitate the great men of other countries, but for want
of acquaintance with the temper of the times, every step they
take places them in a false position, and reveals difficulties
which they are unable to surmount. They become entangled
in the web they had woven for others. If they move onward,
they perhaps make themselves amenable to the laws; if.they
falter and stumble, they are the subject of scorn; if they make
good their retreat, they are covered with ridicule. It is from
constant experience of the unsuitableness of those arts of ambition which were formerly so successful, that the active spirits
in a democratic community are gradually inured to new modes
of thinking and acting. They acquire a clearer insight into
the scope and aim of the institutions under which they live.
They strive to render themselves eminently great by being
eminently useful. And as this opens in the paths of eloquence,
learning, and every species of intellectual effort, an almost
boundless field of ambition, the altered temper which they acquire communicates an influence to others. The example
once set, is soon erected into the fashion, is incorporated into
the national manners, and becomes the standard of conduct
for succeeding generations. So true it is, that the diffusion
of education both elevates the people and tames the ambition
of public men. No man in the United States dreams of running the career of Cromwell or Bonaparte. Intellectual distinction, capacity for business, large and generous views of
patriotism, are the aim of every one, even in those countries
where the noise of this revolution is just beginning to be
heard. Such statesman as Guizot, Brougham, and Lowndes,
now rise up in society, and take the place of the Richelieus,
and Straffords, of former days.  The power which it is necessary to confer upon public men is not so great as it was, because the people are now able to do for themselves a great
many things, which were once obliged to be devolved upon
others; and the authority which is exercised by government is
wonderfully tempered in practice, in consequence of the course
of discipline which the minds of all public men have to pass
through.
This alteration in the structure of society, which is brought




CHAP. II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                367
about solely by the elevation of the popular mind, is full of'
important consequences. As it sets bounds to the personal
influence of ambitious men, it presents a natural obstacle to
the introduction of monarchical or aristocratic institutions,
and disposes all the artificial governments to imbibe some of
the spirit and temper which belong to free institutions. In
the early stages of society, the authority of a few men of commanding character may be highly salutary, although that authority may not be strictly bounded. But the employment of
this instrument ceases with the advancement of society, at least,
where that advancement is general and not confined to the
superior classes. In other words, when popular instruction is
diffused, the authority of government is abridged, because the
people are then able to stand by themselves.
It is no inconsiderable argument in favor of a system of
general education, that it tends greatly to preserve the identity
of the language among all classes of the population, and consequently to maintain civilization. Where no such system
exists, in a country of only tolerable extent, the people of
different districts very soon fall into the use of different dialects, which by and by become distinct languages. The simplest elements of education, the knowledge how to read and
write, uphold the standard of the language; and by so doing
maintain the standard of the laws and manners. Newspapers
which are the genuine fruit of education, exercise the same
influence. The unexampled circulation which these journals
have reached in the United States,. is undoubtedly one reason
why the uniformity of the written and spoken language is so
well preserved. If then we do not confine our view to the
present inhabited part of the United States; but consider
that all North America is destined to be peopled from the
Anglo-Norman stock, the benefits resulting from a thoroughly
diffused education are incalculable. The present territory of
the union will easily contain cne hundred and fifty millions of
people; and the use of a common tongue among thin vast
population will exert a mighty influence upon the progress of
society. For as the difference of languages is one of the
greatest obstacles to the diffusion of civilization, the doing
away with this difference will cause a greater amount cf civilization to bear upon the ruder and less cultivated portion of




368              NATURE AND TENDENCY                 LBOOK III.
this great commonwealth.  And as the influence of America
upon Europe will be prodigiously augmented, the nations of
the old world will be brought more and more within the circle
of American civilization.  People who speak the same language, look upon each other in some sort as members of one
family. Those who speak different languages are sometitmes
very little disposed to regard each other as fellow creatures.
The easy communication a(nd symp)athy which the prevalence
of one comimon dialect introduces, is singularly favorable to
the spread of all sorts of improvetm'nt. The minds of Great
Britain are now chiefly exerted for the people of Great Britain.
Thoie of France  and Germany for the pe p)le of those countries. But if all Europe spoke one coin mon tongue, the intellect of any one country would be an a'ldition to the stock of
general intelligence.  If the people of the Americaln States
had spoken different langnalges, there would perhaps have
been no union:  at any rate the advance of' knowledge and
civilizationl would have been materially retarded.  The influence which has beent exerted upon Europeanl society, in consequence of French, or English, the language of the two mlost
enlightened nations of that continent, beiilg spoken in all the
gr,-at capitals, is very lercel)tible to any one whose attention
has been drawn to the sullject.  More intelligence, and a
greater anount of civilization, have been introduced into
St. Petersburgh, and iarnburglh, Copenhagen, and Stockholm,
Vienna alnd Berlin: alnd the effect has been felt, more or less,
in the remlotest ptrovinces of those countries.  But it would be
very difficult to calculafte the amazing influence which would
have blete exerted, if all Europe had spokenl one language.
Before the American territory is peopled with one hundred
and fifty millions, it will probably be divided into distinct confederacies;, and identity  of the language will contribute powertully to a good understanding among tho)se separate communities. It is the maintenIance of one civilization, not the
maintenance of one union, which we are most deeply interested in. Id(entity of language, in snme degree takes the
place of an actual equality among men. The Scottish highlantders and lowlanders were, until a very recent period, like
two distinct nations inclosed within the same nation. The
spiead of the English language among both has broken down




CHAP. nI. ]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 369
the barriers which separated them as completely as if they
had been distinct orders of men. The laws, the manners, and
the intelligence of the more cultivated districts, were quickly
diffused among all. when all were enabled to understand each
other. Nothing contributes so much to the action of mind
upon mind, as placing men on an equality; nothing so much
to civilization, as this action of mind upon mind; and nothing
so much to the maintenance of free institutions as the equal
diffusion of civilization.
Leibnitz conceived the idea of an universal language; but
he did not carry the thought further than to suggest the practicability of a language which should be common to the
learned. He did not venture to propose to himself the idea of
all the nations of a great continent containing one or two
hundred millions of people, possessing a language which should
be the familiar dialect of all classes. *  Nevertheless, it would
be an achievement of infinitely greater importance to the progress of the human understanding. Profound and inquisitive
minds derive the materials upon which they work chiefly from
the unlearned; and the unlearned derive their incitements to
exertion from  the learned. The observation and analysis of
the minds of other men is the foundation of much the greatest
part of human philosophy; and the broader the field of vision, the more exact and comprehensive will be the results.
One of the principal impediments to the progress of knowledge consists in the extensive prevalence of what may be
termed class opinions, in the different systems of thought.
These opinions were originally taken up from a narrow view
of human nature, and many of them are gradually discarded
-by the learned themselves; but a great number are still preserved, because they render philosophy a sealed book. If we
compare a Chinese or llindoo system of laws, or of ethical
science with works of the same kind, which have come down
to us from Greece and Roume; and if we run a comparison
between these last and similar productions of English or
American origin, we shall be made aware of the wholesome
*Leiblitz, in "Nouveaux Essais de l'entendement," B. IV., ch. VI.,
hints at the possibility of inventing an universal language. But in his
letters to Mr. Oldenburgh, he contemplates only the construction of a
philosophical language.
24




370           NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK -III.
influence which has been exerted upon some of the most
important human interests, by opening a wide field for observation and inquiry. The attrition of the popular mind does
not merely render a system of philosophy or of laws more
level to the common apprehension; it renders all human speculation more solid, coherent, and comprehensive.
Small and insignificant beginnings often give rise to important consequences, and influence the destiny of generations
through the longest lapse of time. The system of common
school education, which originated in New England when the
colony was a mere handful, has now spread over nearly all the
American states; and has contributed more than any other
cause to preserve the identity of the language, to advance civilization, and to bind those republics together in a firm and
beneficent union. When this system is introduced among a
population of fifty or a hundred millions, it will present a
spectacle from which the whole race of mankind will be able
to derive instruction.
It has been supposed that government has properly nothing
to do with the education of the people; that it is an affair
which concerns the private citizen exclusively, and does not
fall within the province of the legislator. But the maxim,
"laissez nous faire," must not be interpreted in such a way as
to destroy its own value. The whole body of laws, the direct
design of which is to promote the good government of the
community, the civil, criminal and commercial codes, all interfere necessarily with the behavior of individuals; yet, it is
admitted, that they do not lie within the range of the maxim.
I do not know that any precise line can be drawn between
those actions which affect the public weal, and those which
have a relation to private persons only. For as no system of
legislation can avoid interfering to some extent with the conduct of individuals, so there is no scheme of private conduct
but what may affect the whole community. It is not because
there is any exact and definite distinction between the two
classes of private and public actions, that government is
bound to interfere in one instance, and yet to abstain in
another. It depends upon who can most effectually and most
advantageously, for both government and people, preside over
the one and the other.




CHAP. II. ]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                371
Governments, in many instances, originated colleges, and
other institutions of learning and benevolence. Government
first set on foot newspapers. By anticipating the existence of
these important instruments of science and information, the
time was hastened when the people appropriated them to their
own use. There are some subjects which fall under the superintendence of government, in the early stages of society,
which cease to belong to it when a people have risen up. And
there are others, where the care exercised by government becomes more intense, in proportion as free institutions take
root.
There is one sure test which may be applied to all such
questions; one, however, which is not capable of being employed in any but a democratic republic. This test is afforded
by the rule of the majority; not the majority of to-day, or tomorrow, but the majority of a considerable series of years.
We may be quite sure that if the people themselves agree that
government shall undertake the management of a particular
interest, and adhere to this agreement after long experience of
its effects, the arrangement is a wise and salutary one. It is
possible for the majority temporarily to oppress the minority.
But it is a much more difficult matter than is generally supposed, for it to persist in so doing. It is impossible in a country of free institutions, in a country where the electors number three millions, to present any such prominent distinctions
in the circumstances of different classes, as to insure the rule
of a fixed majority, if it is disposed premeditatedly, and of set
purpose, to run counter to the substantial interests of the minority. Any such effort will forever terminate in converting
the minority into the majority. It may frequently happen,
that on the first proposition of a most wholesome and beneficial law, the minds of many men may be taken by surprise,
and that it will require a good degree of reflection on their
part to be convinced of its propriety. That the majority have
agreed to it; that is to say, that a body of individnals; no
way distinguishable in their habits and condition of life from
the great body of the minority, have given their consent to a
particular enactment, is strong " prima facie"' evidence of its
reasonableness; and if this enactment remains in the statute
book for a considerable period, it is almost conclusive evidence




372             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BooKl III.
of its wisdom. I observe that at the present day, in New
York, and in all of the New England states but one, there are
laws prohibiting the sale of ardent sptrits. One can hardly
imagine a case where the interference of government with
private conduct is more direct and imperative than it is here.
But it is very difficult to conceive any case where private conduct is capable of exercising a deeper and more extensive
influence upon the public weal. These laws have been too
recently passed to enable us to say with certainty whether
they will stand. I am disposed to think that ultimately they
will prevail; that although there may be fluctuations of public,opinion, leading to their alternate repeal and re-enactment,.they will in the end conciliate the minds of the great bulk of
the population, and bear down all opposition.
The difficulty, then, of distinguishing in theory between
those things which the civil magistrate should take under his;jurisdiction, and those which should be left to the discretion
of private individuals, is resolved in practice by the simple'rule of the majority. Where government is truly the representative of the people, we can afford to trust it with the
doing of many things, which under other circumstances it'would be desirable to place beyond its reach. Where it is
a self-existing authority, it is too prone to intermeddle with
private conduct, it seeks to thrust itself into every corner of,society, because its own influence is increased in proportion as
the people are rendered dependent. But'this is a mistake
which can rarely be committed in a republic, where those who.are affected by the laws are themselves the authors of the;laWSo
It is remarkable that while Mr. Hume is in favor of a strict
superintendence of religious interests by government, thathe
would leave every other department of instruction to the voluntary and unassisted efforts of individuals. In America the.
rule has been entirely reversed. There, the people elaim the
interposition of their state governments, in securing a system
of popular instruction, while they deny the right or th X utility
of interfering in any degree with religion. And this system
has been attended with incalculable advantages to both government and people. It is the existence of an established church,
which in England has opposed so many obstacles to the intxo



CHAP. II. ]      OF FRfE INSTITUTIONS.                373
duction of a system  of popular instruction. A fear has been
constantly felt by episcopalians lest, in that course of training
and discipline which the minds of youth undergo at school,
opportunity might be taken to instil notions unfavorable to
the doctrines of the church of England; while on the other
hand dissenters of all denominations have talken a totally opposite view, and have concluded that there was tven greater
probability, that principles adverse to their own particular
creeds might be insinuated into the minds of their children.
A system of common school education established in England,
and headed by the ecclesiastical hierarchy, might have so
many bad features as to counterbalance the good, of which it
would be otherwise productive; while the same system  in
America, originated by representatives of. the people and superintended by them, would be fraught with unmixed advantage. A country in which free institutions are sought to be
perpetuated, presents a strong case for the interposition of
the government in everything which concerns popular instruction. The system of common school education is applied to
the formation of the mind, at a period of life when it is too
feeble to originate any scheme of mental discipline for itself.
And the great object is so to train the youth of the country,
that when they come to be men, they may render themselves
useful members of the great commonwealth in which they live.
And it is a consideration of great importance, that where the
population of a country is well instructed, the interference of
the legislator is unnecessary in a multitude of instances where
it would otherwise be demanded.
When education is widely diffused the whole population is
introduced into active and useful life, at a much earlier period
than could be the case, if the means of instruction were limited, and difficult to be obtained. This necessarily constitutes
an immense accession to the strength and resources of the
state. The great body of the people then become not merely
the bone and sin-ews of the community, they become its soul,
and its vivifying principle. iLord Bacon, like Cicero, complains that men who have obtained a tolerably advanced age,
are frequently withdrawn from public usefulness, when their
influence and counsels, would be most profitable to the public.
This great man would not have had so much reason to in



374             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BooK III.
dulge in this lamentation if, instead of the brutish and ignorant population by which he was surrounded in the beginning
of the seventeenth century, he had lived in the midst of an
instructed people. In the United States, a very considerable
part of the business of society falls under the management of
young men. The liberal professions, the legislative assembles,
all the branches of trade, of manufactures, and the mechanic
arts, derive immense accessions from their exertions. And
it is perhaps one reason why all these pursuits have caught so
liberal a spirit, and are freed from the cumbrous forms and
antiquated usages which hang around them in other countries. The effect is similar to that which is produced by the
substitution of free in the place of slave labor. General edu-,cation imparts general freedom of thought. And this freedom
of thought is the parent of vigorous exertion, of self-reliance,
of that thorough sense of responsibility, which causes every
one to walk alertly and yet cautiously over the difficult paths
of life.
Until recently, no one was eligible to the French house of
deputies until he was forty. This fact sheds an abundance of
light upon the social organization in France. The laws are a
pretty sure index of the manners, and where we find the age
of political majority raised so high, we may be very certain
that the age of civil manhood is also high, and that both the
minds and characters of individuals are slow in maturing.
In some countries, the hour-glass of life is more than half run
out before the faculties of men can be made available and
effective for any part of tihe business of society. At present,
the age of admission -into the house of deputies is thirty years,,and contemporary with this alteration of the constitution, a
great change took place in reference to popular education.
Formerly, the government appropriated twenty-five thousand
dollars for that purpose. At present, twenty-five millions are.graned. More than forty-two thousand schools are main-,tained by the state, thedepartments, and the cantons: while
at he -same:time, the private schools have also been augimented. For although'the laws are an index of the manners,
yet in acountryiwhere a system of artificial institutions has existed'for a very long period, government may, notwithstanding,
originate the most important improvements, and thus bring




CRAP. I. ]      OF FREE'INSTITUTIONS.              375
about a change of the manners themselves. The whole nuamber of pupils at school in France is very nearly three millious,
and the cost of primary instruction alone is estimated at two
and a half millions of dollars.
In the United States, it is very common to see men, by the
time they are thirty, already established in some useful and
profitable employment. At that age we see them conducting
with judgment and ability an extensive practice as lawyers,
or physicians, or embarked in the most difficult branches of
trade. It is evident that such a constitution of society must
contribute materially to augment both the moral and physical
resources of the community, and that it must be equally instrumental in giving strength and solidity to the political institutions.
Those persons who are prone to look upon the dark side of
human nature, and to magnify the licentiousness of the pres
ent age, would derive great instruction from looking into the
interior of society, as it was only one hundred and fifty years
ago, and that among some of the most enlightened European
states. The system of common, or parochial, schools was established in Scotland in 1696. Fletcher, of Saltoun, the celebrated Scotch patriot, and a person eminently distinguished
for soundness of judgment and purity of character, writing
about this time, draws the-following vivid picture of the general state of manners in that country: "There are at this day
in Scotland <besides a great many poor families provided for
by the church boxes, with others, who, by living on bad food,
fall into various diseases), two hundred thousand people begging from door to door. These are not only no way advantageous, but a very grievous burden to so poor a country.
And though the number of them be perhaps double to what; it
was formerly, by reason of the present great distress; yet in
all times there have been about one hundred thousand of these
vagabonds, who have lived without any regard or subjection
to the laws of the land, or even to those of God, and nature:
fathers incestuously accompanying with their own daughters,
the son with the mother, and the brother with the sister. No
magistrate could ever discover, or be informed, which way one
in a hundred of those wretches died, or ever that they were
baptized. Many murders have been discovered among them,




376             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IIM,
and they are not only an unspeakable oppression to poor tenants (who, if they give not bread, or some kind of provision,
to perhaps forty such villains in one day, are sure to be insulted by them), but they rob many poor people who live in
houses distant from any neighborhood. In years of plenty,
many thousands of them  meet together in the mountains,
where they feast and riot for many days, and at country weddings, markets, burials, and other like public occasions, they
are to be seen, both men and women, perpetually drunk, cursing, blaspheming, and fighting together."
This state of abject poverty and wild disorder cannot be attributed to the density of the population. Scotland, at the
close of the seventeenth century, contained hardly a million of
inhabitants. By the census of 1841, it contained more than two
millions and a half: But at the former period, the Scotch
were destitute of education; destitute, therefore, of those
moral capacities which could alone lay open to them  the
resources of nature. At present, they are among the best
educated people in Europe; and the condition of the country
is totally changed from what it was when Fletcher wrote. In
the place of a lawless band of marauders, traversing the coun
try and inflicting all sorts of injuries upon unoffending people,
we have, from one end of the country to the other, a shrewd,
active, and industrious population; the great bulk of whom
possess a very reasonable share of the comforts of life, and
live in a state of strict subordination to the laws. Doubtless,
we may find very great defects in the social organization of
any country; and the disposition to magnify these may even
sometimes be a favorable symptom of the general soundness
of society. It may indicate that a very high standard of excellence is constantly held up by every one, which, although
it can never lead to the attainment of all which is conceivable,
yet is the only means of reaching so much as is actually attainable. But to make. any comparison between the moral and
industrial state of Scotland, in the seventeenth century, and
its condition since the system of parochial schools has been
matured and borne its fruit, would be to forego the use of our
faculties. We might as well institute a comparison between
the annals of bedlam and those of New England or Ohio.
What will be the effect, ultimately, of placing men so much




CHAP. II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                377
on an equality as the general diffusion of knowledge supposes,
is an inquiry at once novel and interesting. The great qualities which we admire, in the eminent men who take a lead in
public affairs, are in very great part formed by their power of
acting upon other men. But this power depends for its exercise
very much on the structure of society. A state which contains
a handful of intelligent and sagacious individuals, all the rest
of society being condemned to a state of intellectual inferiority,
presents the most favorable opportunity for the development
of those qualities. Men who are surrounded by the ignorant,
feel a stimulus to exertion, in one walk of ambition at any
rate, the force of which it is difficult to calculate. Under such
circumstances, they are inspired with a wonderful degree of
assurance, resolution, and self-command: mighty agents in
counterfeiting as well as in making great qualities. But if we
contrive to scatter knowledge, and so to multiply the number
of independent thinkers among the people themselves, much
of this artificial stimulus to an artificial greatness is taken
away. It becomes then a much more difficult matter to manage men; less easy to control their wills, so as to render them
subservient to the designs of ambitious leaders. In such a
condition of society, the aspiring man sees a great number of
sagacious individuals, not. merely in the sphere in which he
moves, but interposed between himself and the people, and in
the ranks of the people themselves.'His power is by little and
little frittered away, until at last it becomes doubtful whether
there will any longer be opportunity for the display of those
qualities which have hitherto attracted so large a share of the
public attention.
And admitting that this will be the consequence, it is clear
that society will be infinitely the gainer; not merely because
qualities which depend so much for their formation on the ignorance of other men, must necessarily contain a great deal
that is factitious and superficial; but because the community
as a body will be rendered wiser and stronger, and the political
institutions be made firmer and more durable.
There is one inconvenience attending society when knowledge is widely circulated; and the principle of equality consequently gains strength-the feeling of envy is apt to pervade
all classes of men. Every one seems to forget, that although




378             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK III.
the dispersion of knowledge does in truth break down many
of the distinctions which before existed between individuals,
that it cannot destroy the natural inequality which the God of
nature has stamped upon different minds. Every one, however, fancies that he is capable of every thing. All want to be
great, and yet are too indolent to make themselves wise. And
as chagrin and disappointment must follow the indulgence of
such vain hopes and pretensions, men instantly fall into the
deplorable vice of detracting from the merit of those who have
run before them in the attainment of reputation. If they cannot reach the object of their ambition, the next most desirable
thing is to prevent others from obtaining it. In a barbarous
or half-civilized community men slay each other to make room
for themselves. In a highly-civilized one, they rarely go further than to wish the death of each other.
But although this is to a considerable extent the character
of every society where knowledge is diffused and people are
placed pretty much on a footing of equality; yet it is attended
with so many compensations, that a wise man is not at liberty
to desire a change. We must avail ourselves of every spring
of improvement which is planted in human nature. If we
cannot rely solely upon the noble ambition of excellence for its
own sake, we may very reasonably tolerate some other qualities of an inferior kind, provided they are productive of effects
any way similar. Our nature is so admirably adjusted, that
even our defects are often converted into instruments for our
improvement. But there is this very important distinction to
be made: that we intend our virtues shall redound to the good
of society, whereas we intend no such thing with regard to our
vices. These are made to produce results without our knowing it, through the interposition of an overruling providence.
Root out envy from the human bosom, and we take away one
of the strongest incentives to all sorts of exertion, from the
lowest, the mere acquisition of weatlth, to the highest, the perfectionment of our moral and intellectual nature.
In surveying the extensive provision which is made in
America for the promotion of popular instruction, the inquiry
may very naturally be made: What is to be the result of the
plan if it is not turned to some account, reaching beyond the
years of puberty? The system of common school education




CIAP. II.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                379
gives the ability to read and write; but the possession of this
ability is one thing, and the application of it after leaving
school is another and very different thing. In other words,
even admitting that the whole youth of the country are taught
those important arts, what will it profit them if, after the acquisition is made, it is not employed in getting knowledge.
The ability to read and write is merely mechanical —it is only
a means to the attainment of an end. If the means is possessed, and yet the end totally neglected, in what respect is
society better off than when this mechanical art was entirely
withheld from the general population.
I imagine, however, that when the matter is considered attentively, the deficiencies of society will be found to be much
less than this view supposes, and I have purposly placed it
in the strongest possible light. It is true, when we take a
survey of some of the best educated communities, the United
States and Holland for example, we are struck with the unintellectual character of the masses. But the fault is in ourselves: we conipare the condition of these masses with that of
the most cultivated class, instead of comparing it with the
condition of those masses prior to the diffusion of education.
In pursuing the first course, we are disappointed, perhaps even
shocked; in adopting the last, we will find that our most sanguine expectations are realized. Reading and reflection, unless
carried beyond a certain point, cannot be productive of what
we term striking results; and yet when employed short of this
point, they may have a decidedly intellectual influence. There
is in reality much more read by the people than is generally
supposed, only it is not visible to those who live in the full
blaze of knowledge. The single fact, that a greater number
of newspapers are circulated in the United States than in the
whole of continental Europe, is pretty good evidence that the
Americans turn the ability to read to some practical purpose.
The reading of the daily journals is an occupation to which the
most accomplished minds are addicted: for they contain, with
all their demerits, a great part of the history of the times in
which we live. They do not contain this information in the
gross, as is the case in works professedly historical; but they
present the transaction and events of the day minutely, and
in detail; and although the narrative is on this account les




380             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [Booi III.
imposing, it is doubtful whether it is not more instructive
This species of reading, although it produces in some a disrelish for any other study, has a contrary effect with others. It
whets the appetite for knowledge, opens up the connection
between those things which are contained in the newspapers
and the ten thousand other things which can only be alluded
to by them. A great many persons among the mechanical,
agricultural, and commercial classes, are thus beguiled into
habits of reading, who would never otherwise have taken up
a book. Newspapers first created a general taste for reading;
and reading is of great assistance in grasping and analyzing
the information which newspapers contain. The profitable use
which may be made of these journals, is in exact proportion
to the general stock of knowledge which individuals possess.
Facts related by them, which a casual observer would pass
over as signifying nothing, may with minds of reading and
reflection possess a great deal of meaning, and conduct to very
important conclusions.
The system of popular education has many negative advantages, which are not inferior to the positive benefits which it
bestows. The training of the hearts of youth is very properly
confided to the domestic circle; but intellectual occupation,
the acquisition of the mere rudiments of learning, exercises a
decidedly moral influence upon the character. If it only to
some extent shuts out the temptation to vice, it prevents the
lower appetites from gaining the mastery.
In Sismondi's History of the Italian Republics (iv. 193), we
have some insight into the state of popular education in the
republic of Florence, in the fourteenth century.  The city
then contained one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants.
In the territory beyond the city, there were about seven hundred thousand. From eight to ten thousand children learned
to read, twelve hundred learned arithmetic, five or six hundred
logic, or grammar. In Scotland, at the present day, one-eleventh of the whole population go to school. In New England
and New York, this proportion is about one-fourth, or onefifth; in other words, three-fourths of the children, between
five and fifteen years of age, go to school. The proportion
then in Florence, which was greatly advanced beyond any of
the other Italian states, in this, as well as in every other re



CHAP. Ir.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                381
spect, was surprisingly small. It was only about the eightieth
part of the population. It is exceedingly small, even when
compared with England, where one in nineteen, or with Ireland, where one in thirty-two, of the whole population are trained
to the first rudiments of education.
The moral influence exerted upon society in these different
communities, has been in about the same proportion as the
diffusion of education. It was less in Florence than in Ireland, less in Ireland than in England, and in England less
than in Scotland, New England, or New York. The register
of crimes shows this fact very conclusively. The number of
criminals in Ireland is about one in five huildred; in England,
one in nine hundred and sixty; in Scotland, New England,
and New York, out of the city, one in about five thousand.
We have no material from which to form any exact calcula.
tion as to Florence. But we do know that it contained an
exceedingly disorderly population, and that it was a scene of
the most sanguinary civil feuds, during the period to which
I have referred. The riots of an American city are a mere
episode in the liistory of the country; those of Florence were
barbarous in the extreme, were fomented by the chief citizens, and were of so frequent occurrence as to constitute the
principal part of its annals.
There is still a difficulty, however, connected -with this subject, which demands attention.  All the people cannot be
expected to be educated.  Even admitting that, with the
munificent provision which is made for the establishment
of schools in New England, New York, andu Ohio, all the
males receive the first rudiments of learning, it would be
going too far to suppose that all will get much further than
those rudiments, and become well informed. We will probably have in those sections, and ultimately throughout the
whole country, a better instructed people than have ever
existed.  But very many will still remain wrapped up in
ignorance. The number of the electors then will be much
greater than that of the educated.  Whereas, the theory of
democratic institutions seems to require that all who exercise
the right of suffrage should be at least tolerably instructed;
in other words, the administration of public affairs in Amer



382            NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK. III.
ica, both in the federal and state governments, gives rise
to a multitude of questions of great magnitude and complexity, which cannot be understandingly apprehended without information and reflection.  Nevertheless, the people
are either directly or indirectly invested with the whole
power of deciding upon these questions; and yet, numbers
are very ignorant in relation to them. How are we to reconcile this plain discrepancy between the demand for knowledge on the one hand, and the lack of it on the other? The
difficulty is startling at first view. It is one which has constantly exercised the minds of the most thoughtful and judicious men in the United States.
In the first place, then, it must be recollected that a like
analogy runs through every department of human affairs;
that political knowledge is like every other kind of knowledge; that it is subject to the same rules which apply to all
other human interests; and that if a slight observation does
disclose the strangest incongruities, greater attention will.
reveal a system of compensations, by which the mischief is in
a great degree neutralized. In the whole circle of human
interests, there is hardly an instance where theory and practice are united to any great extent. It is one of the most
striking and beneficent provisions in the constitution of our
nature, that the combination of the two is not always necessary, in order to act efficiently and correctly; that on the
contrary, our conduct may be determined with the utmost
promptitude and regularity, without our being able to analyze
our thoughts; that is, without our comprehending the process
by which we are impelled to act. The commonest laborers
will skilfully apply all the mechanical powers, without understanding their nature.
Millions of men are engaged in the processes of manufactures, without any insight into the world of knowledge
of chemistry and natural philosophy, which their occupations
seem to imply. Many who successfully and skilfully pursue
the professions of law and medicine, are unacquainted with
the philosophy of those sciences. There are no subjects upon
which a greater amount of thought and learning have been
employed, than upon theology and ethics; yet the religious
and the moral are to be found among the unlearned, as well




CAAP. II.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               383
as among the enlightened. The analogy may be traced
through every interest appertaining to human life. Indeed,
if the ability to act were dependent upon knowledge of the
machinery by means of which we act, our condition would
be more deplorable than that of the brutes.
It is worthy of observation, also, that on all the important
questions which agitate a civilized community, a wide difference of opinion exists among the enlightened, as well as
among the uninstructed. The utmost which we can reasonably demand is, that public affairs should be conducted
by those whose vision is the keenest and most comprehensive, and whose intentions are the most upright.
But even such minds are constantly ranged upon different
sides. Perhaps the difficulty is more apparent than real.
It may be that it is the egotism and narrow views of politicians, which give an importance to questions to which
they are not entitled, and that those who are uninstructed,
by being less ambitious, and consequently more impartial,
serve to moderate the ultra views of politicians of all parties.
A great nation may do great injustice to itself, by imagining
that its substantial interests are dependent upon the existence of a central bank, or the enactment of a high tariff.
Public men feel as if they must have a wide field opened,
on which to make a display of their abilities, and such questions present the opportunity, although the advancement
of the country in riches and power would not be sensibly
affected one way or the other, whether such schemes were
adopted or discarded.
But although the difficulties which beset free institutions
are great, it is plain that there is no way of elevating the
great mass of the population but by disseminating the benefits of education. If the mischiefs complained of are not
cured, they are at any rate greatly abridged. The question is
not, whether the social organization, and the political institutions of a representative republic, are preferable to such a
picture as our imaginations may draw; but whether they
are not the best which we can reasonably hope to attain,
whether they do not present a state of society infinitely better
than that of Spain, Italy, or Russia; better even than that




384             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BooK 1It.
which exists in Great Britain, where the laws and the manners have a fairer aspect, and a more wholesome influence
than in any other European state, only because they approach nearer to the model which the American commonwealth has set up.




CHAP. IIT.       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 385
CHAPTER III.
MILITARY INSTITUTIONS.
THERE is no fact in the history of our race more striking
than its addiction to military pursuits. From the earliest
period, and in every form of society, whether barbarous or
civilized, war has been one of the habitual occupations of
mankind.  It might almost be supposed that it answered
some necessary want of our nature, and that the propensities
which lead to it were as much entitled to be considered a part
of the original constitution of man, as any of those which
rule over his ordinary actions.
The least insight into human nature, apprises us of the great
variety of faculties which are planted in our constitution.
Qualities which tend to raise the species to a condition almost
above humanity, are immediately associated with others which
sink it to a level with the brutes. And it is plain that if the
former were not capable of exerting a control over the last,
the human mind would be a mere jumble of contradictory
properties, each acting with the force of a separate instinct,
and giving rise to actions the most incoherent and unmeaning
imaginable.
It is true, war is sometimes productive of beneficial effects.
In the absence of any more powerful stimulants, it scourges
the lazy elements of society, brings to light some dormant
spring of improvement, and gives a totally different direction
to human affairs from what was intended. If our bad qualities are not controlled by ourselves, a higher power has ordained that they shall be instrumental of good in some other
way. By rendering it necessary for individuals to act under
circumstances of the greatest peril, and amid the most deplorable calamities which can fall upon society, war calls out,
some of the noblest qualities of our nature; inspiring some
with a lofty patriotism and self-denial, and training otlhers to,
25




386              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [Bnoo  III.
humility, resignation, and fortitude. If conquering ]Iome had
not penetrated a great part of Europe, and if the hordes from
the northern and central part of that continent had not in
turn penetrated Italy, it may be doubted whether civilization
would have made much progress, up to the present day, be.
yond the confines of the Italian peninsula. Christianity and
Ptoman civilization lie at the foundation of our modern civilization; and' I do not see how it would have been possible to
diffuse one or the other, if there had not been that complete
mingling of races consequent upon the Rooman conquests, and
the irruptions of the barbarians. I believe, that if it had not
been for those events, the inhabitants of Britain, France,
Germany and Prussia, would have continued, down to the
present time, the same wandering and barbarous tribes which,they were in the times of Csesar and Tacitus. That there,was no spring of improvement within, is demonstrated by the:Lact that they had remained in a stationary condition for more
ithan two thousand years. If then there had not been some
tpowerful causes set in motion from without, there is every
reason to believe, that those countries which have made such;prodigious advances in knowledge, and in all the arts of life,,would still be inhabited by an ignorant and barbarous race.
The subsequent wars which have prevailed among the European states, have probably contributed to produce an effect,of a similar-character. Doubtless the guilty individuals who
fomented them were only animated by a desire to gratify their
-selfish ambition; and they have been subservient to ends
which they neither desired or contemplated. I will only take.as an example the wars which scourged Europe, from  the,commencement of the French revolution to the general peace'in 1815. Assuredly no one can take a survey of European
-society before and since that period, without noticing the immnense progress which has been made in -knowledge, industry.and the arts, and the corresponding improvement which the:social and political organization has undergone in that quarter,of the globe.
The influence which these wars have exerted is similar to
*the effect produced in the United States by breaking down the,distinction of ranks. Civilization has circulated more freely
dn consequence of the last, and the wars of the French revo



CHAP. II.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              387
lution, by contributing to break down the barriers which separated the European states from each other, have brought the
inhabitants of all to a more intimate acquaintance and connection than existed before.  The intercourse of all kinds
which now takes place, political, commercial, and personal,
between different communities, is greater than it once was between the people of the same country. Civilization is contagious; the manners of a cultivated people exercise an amazing
influence upon others which are less advanced, and the European nations, which were once distinguished by the greatest
inequalities in this respect, are gradually assuming the character of one great commonwealth of civilized states.
These views conduct to others equally important. FHistorical works which, for the most part, contain a narrative of foreign and intestine wars, would have been doubly instructive
if their authors had constantly drawn the attention of their
readers to the difference of races. I imagine it would be
found that this difference lay at the bottom of nearly all those
wars. China, whose population is greater than that of all
Europe, has, with very inconsiderable exceptions, enjoyed profound tranquillity for more than two hundred years. During
the same period, the European people of the same country,
as well as of different countries, have been tearing each other
to pieces. Let us take as an example a single historical work:
Sismondi's History of the Italian Republics. What a flood of
light would this profound and eloquent writer have shed upon
the times of which he treats, if he had throughout the whole
work directed the attention of his readers to the original diversity of races, and to the very slow process by which they
were fused into each other. The mixture of Goths, Vandals,
Lombards, Normans, and Saracens, with the Italian population, produced a total disorganization of society, and made
men of the same district, and even living within the walls of
the same city, implacable enemies. 1 have no reference now
to the times immediately succeeding the invasion of those
hordes; for then it is plain enough, without the historian
pointing to it, that the incongruous assemblage of peoples of
different civilization was a fruitful cause of disorders. I alallude to periods much later, to the twelfth, thirteenth, and
fourteenth centuries, when the descendants of all these vari




388             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IIIous races inhabited Italy, and when, notwithstanding intermarriages between them, the original lineaments of character
had not disappeared. The same view might be taken of the
intestine troubles of Spain, France, and Great Britain. We
know that it is not much more than one hundred and fifty
years since the Saxon and Norman population, in this last
country, could be considered as'completely amalgamated;
and that the amalgamation of the Gaelic population of the
highlands of Scotland with that of the rest of the country,
dates from a much more recent period.
This suggests another important view, which is, that in proportion as the various races have been melted into each other
in the same country; in proportion as they have tended to
form one homogeneous population, the character of war became gradually changed. The different people no longer inhabited the same country, but belonged to different countries.
Hence in very modern times, instead of domestic wars we
have had foreign wars. The extraordinary uniformity of character in the population of the United States, has undoubtedly
been one great cause of the unprecedented tranquillity it has
enjoyed at home. It is not merely that this sameness of character presents fewer points of actual difference, but it has led
to a thorough intercourse between men of all classes, and between those inhabiting different parts of the country.
No nation is composed of a greater variety of races thait the
United States. But the English typre is predominant above all
others. The emigrants who flock thither are from the most civilized parts of Europe. Although for the most part they belolg
to the inferior classes of society, their minds are more duec lte
on thai very account-more capable of receiving impressiuis
from  the manners and institutions which surround thenu.
They behold a high standard of civilization existing ill the
country. Their natural instincts impel them  to imitate it:
since in no other way can they compete with the native inmlb
itants in the acquisition of comfort and independence.  Lyie
older emigrants adhere to their own language. Alter t 1,ertain period of life, it is difficult and irksome in the extren,.to
learn a new language. But their descendents do not fin{o the
same difficulty. Their dispositions and organs are more liable. The intercourse between all parts of the population i. so




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                389
great, that they insensibly acquire the language of the courntry, and learn to regard that of their ancestors as a foreign
tongue, which is now both useless and unfashionable. This
obstacle being surmounted, intermarriages take place. Their
transactions of business lie with the natives, much more than
with their own countrymen. American courts are open to them,
when they have any difficulties to adjust. They must converse with their lawyers in English, in order to make themselves understood. Their interests, no less than a desire so
natural to the human heart, to imitate those who have wealth,
power, and intelligence, conspire to weld them thoroughly to
the institutions among which they live. So that in process of
time the English type promises to be not merely the predominant but universal one.
The distinction of race may be regarded in a two-fold aspect;
as it arises from physical or moral causes. When we speak of
difference of race, we generally have reference to some variety
of conformation and habits which has been wrought by physical causes. But there may be a difference superinduced by
moral causes. For instance, independently of the varieties
which have been noticed by philosophical writers, the political
institutions of different countries may differ so widely froum
each other in their structure and influence, as to render nations
who have sprung from the same stock, as alien to each other
as if they had emerged from totally distinct tribes. And so
also, the institutions of the same country may act so unequally
upon different parts of the population as to create great diversity of habits, manners, and modes of thinking; and so to estrange from each other men inhabiting the same country. It
is in the power of governments then to create artificial races
among their own population. Monarchical and aristocratical
institutions, together with an imposing ecclesiastical hierarchy,
may contribute to perpetuate distinctions long after the original lineaments of race have disappeared. So long as this is
the case, the seeds of intestine war exist; and whatever foIments intestine war, acts in one way or another as a prevocative to foreign war. Soon after the breaking out of the
French revolution, the party in the ascendancy waged war
against some of the European governments, in order to prevent their interference in re-establishing the odious privileges




390              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IIIL
which divided one part of French society from another. And
when strong government was establshed, war was still waged in
order to keep down the insubordination of men of all parties
at home.
There is one part of the policy of the American government
which is entitled to great praise. I allude to the laws for the
naturalization of foreigners. I will not stop to inquire into
the propriety of a little shorter or a little longer residence, in
order to entitle to citizenship. The main design of the plan,
which is that of a speedy naturalization of foreigners, is marked
1)y the soundest wisdom. These laws have been regarded as
something entirely new in the history of governments. And
it is true that they do differ materially from the laws which
exist in the European states. But they are pretty much the
same as those which prevailed prior to the establishment of
American independence. Similar laws were passed by the
mother country, for the purpose of encouraging emigration to
a country which had a vast extent of fertile land, and too few
inhabitants to cultivate it. America, although its population
is now greater than that of many of the kingdoms of Europe,
has still an abundance of unoccupied land. The same reasons,
therefore, which lead to the original enactment of these laws
would prompt to their continuance.
But without denying that these laws offer strong inducements to emigration, it is doubtful whether the emigration
would not be nearly as great without them. The immediate
temptation to the inhabitants of densely-peopled countries to
emigrate, arises from the prospect of bettering their condition.
The desire to become proprietors when before they were serfs,
to acquire comfort and independence, and so to raise their offspring reputably, when otherwise they would have been sunk
low in the scale of society; not to mention the absolute cravings of want among great numbers, which make them satisfied
with merely wages sufficient to uphold life; all these motives
conspire to bring great crowds of people to the new world.
Although they might not be admitted to the possession of
political privileges for fifteen or twenty years after their arrival, they would enjoy freedom of religion, and a larger share
of civil liberty than falls to the lot of any European people.
But it is of infinite importance to assimilate as speedily as




CHAP. III.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               391
possible all parts of the American population: to melt down
all the different races into one race; and thus to produce the
greatest harmony and agreement between the manners and
the political institutions. This is a more powerful and convincing reason for the enactment of the naturalization laws of
the United States, than would be the mere desire to encourage
emigration.  Examine all history from  the earliest records
down to the present time, and it will be found that the presence of different tribes in the same country, and yet separated
from each other by unequal privileges, and consequently by
dissimilar habits, has been the most fruitful source of internal dissensions and civil disturbances. We know that the
Roman patricians and plebeians were not originally different
classes of the same people; but that they were in reality two
different people: that they assumed the relation of different
classes, only in consequence of the laws which kept them asunder after they were incorporated into one commonwealth: and
that Rome enjoyed no tranquillity until the laws were repealed. When this was effected the two people were easily melted
into one, and a character of unity and solidity was imparted
to the political institutions. If you traverse Italy, or Germauy, you will find vestages everywhere of the same policy
which guided Rome in its infancy. A close examination would
probably disclose many traces still unobliterated of similar
laws growing out of similar circurmstances, in almost all the
large kingdoms of Europe. It was therefore a finie idea of the
American government to begin at the beginning-to take
speedy and effectual measures for fusing into one the,diverse
tribes of which its population would be composed. A monarchy, or aristocracy, may suppose that it is greatly for its interest to impose severe restrictions upon its foreign population, or even to make aliens of one part of its native population, as has been too often the case. But a republic is deeply
concerned in smoothing as far as practicable all the inequalities and unevennesses which obstruct the intercourse of society; that so the political institutions may be adapted to the
whole people, and the whole people be made heartily interested in upholding those institutions. In 1708, an act was
passed by the English parliament for the naturalization of all
protestant aliens. The reasons urged were, that it would en



392             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK III.
courage industry, improve trade and manufactures, and repair
the waste of the population by war. But one of the motives
was to counterbalance the power of the landed aristocracy.
The objection was, that the new citizens would retain a fondness for their native country, and, in time of war, act as spies
and enemies: that they would insinuate themselves into places
of trust and profit, become members of parliament, and by frequent intermarriages, effect the extinction of the English race.
The act was repealed 1711. In 1751, another bill was introduced, but failed. It was strenuously supported by Winm. Pitt,
(Chatham), and other enlightened members, but fell through,
in consequence of the same narrow and bigotted views which
were urged in 1708.
Great numbers of people who now emigrate to America are
catholics, and fears are entertained lest they should exercise
an untoward influence upon the rest of the population. But
these fears are without foundation. The institutions of the
United States will protestantize the Roman catholic religion,
for protestantism is a vigorous protest against both religious
and political superstition, and whatever contributes to check
the one, contributes equally to check the other. Maryland
was settled by catholics, yet itis certain that the protestant population haveiexerted a much more powerful influence upon them
than they have exerted upon the protestants. I can observe
no difference in the manners and modes of thinking of the people of this state from what I observe in other states. So true
it is, that in everything which addresses itself to the reason,
the true policy of government consists in permitting the utmost
latitude of thought, and the freest exercise of conscience. To
pursue an opposite course, would be to fill a country with dissensions, perhaps civil war, which has hitherto enjoyed unparalleled tranquillity.'Tphe risk which America has to encounter, in the absence of
those causes which ordinarily produce heartburning and jealousies in other communities, arises from the institution of
slavery. There is no danger ot any serious and lasting contest between the white and black race. But it is possible, for
the white man of the north to fight the white man of the south,
through the black race. Such is the perversity of human nature, that it will sometimes create differences where nature




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                393
has made resemblances, and a diseased imagination may convert the white man of the south into a being of different race,
in order to enable hi'm of the north to indulge in a misguided
fanaticism.
But the security against this danger is after all very great.
It consists in the substantial identity of the white population
of the north and south, which, although -a gust of feeling may
occasionally obscure the horizon, will force itself upon the attention of every one, and cement the two sections of the country, until the natural period of their separation has arrived.
A certain degree of zeal, of even enthusiasm, is always necessary to set the midll  a-thinking, and to enable it to apprehend the bearings and consequences of any important measure. It must never be supposed, because passion and feelings
mingle in public disputes, that they are going to run away
with the understandings of people. That passion and feeling
only act as a healthful stimulus to the faculties, and by producing greater intensity of thought, may ultimately conduct
to conclusions very different, perhaps totally the reverse of
those which were at first seized. Thereis a sp2cies of intelligence, which is bottomed upon good sense and a sound judgment, which is eminently unfavorable to an over indulgence
in fanaticism. And there are no people who as a body are
more distinguished for this same intelligence, than are the people of the north.
The reader may suppose that I have lost sight of the subject on which this chapter professes to treat. Such is not the
case however. But it is my desire to present a different view
from  what is usually taken. In other words, it is no part of
my design to describe either the military institutions of any
particular country, or to make inquiry what system would
most conduce to promote the power and aggrandizement of a
nation. My object is the reverse: it is to examine very briefly,
those causes which have hitherto given rise to foreign and
civil wars, and more especially to consider the train of events,
and that constitution of society, which at the present day
give promise of checking the propensity to war. For although
war may have its uses, yet these uses may in the progress of
time be exhausted. Not that there is any probability that
wars will absolutely cease to be waged by nations, but the




394             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOI III.
tendency of public opinion everywhere is such as to discountenance the practice.  Not only do the interests of communities impel them in an opposite direction, but what is of
infinitely more consequence, the understanding, the conviction that such is the case, is continually gaining strength.
Foreign wars, so far as they are occasioned by the unequal
civilization of different states, maiy become less frequent, when
civilization is more evenly diffused; not because the power of
different nations will then be more equally balanced, for the
reverse may be the case  but because a more equal civilization in all, produces a superior civilization in each, and a
high state of civilization, such at any rate as exists in our
modern world, is absolutely incompatible with the habitual
pursuit of war. So also civil wars may become much less
frequent, in consequence of the more thorough civilization
which will exist among the population of the same state. For
then the interests of different parts of the state will somehow
or other be found to be better adjusted to each other, and will
more seldom be brought into violent conflict.
If hitherto appeals to the humanity and good sense of nations have been insufficient to put an end to the atrocious
practice of war, a train of causes may be set in operation by
the Governor of the universe, which will accomplish the same
end. The people of Europe may at least be made to see, and to
feel, that their interests are identified with peace; and as the
control of popular opinion upon the actions of the government
is continually gaining ground, the same sense of interest
which disinclines the people to war, may disable rulers from
making it.
When these causes have been in operation for a considerable period, when the wisdom which is learned from experience
has had time to produce some sensible alteration in the habits
of thinking prevalent among men, the moral sense will be
powerfully and effectually awakened.  It is amazing with
what facility the human mind will reconcile itself to customs
the most abhorrent to reason, and the most revolting to humanity; and it is equally surprising how easily it may be
weaned from them, when new circumstances have arisen to
produce a clear judgment and a sound state of feeling. For
in what respect does the killing in war-in war which is not




CHAP. Ir. ]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               395
absolutely in self-defense —differ from private murder, except
that in the former case a great multitude of people have
leagued together to do the deed, and by so doing, have organized among themselves a species of public opinion, in order to
drown remorse and to absolve from condemnation.
An almost total exemption from war is one of the memorable things in the history of the American republic. One war,
of short duration, in a period of nearly seventy years, is a
phenomenon without a parallel in the history of European
society.* It is true, America is removed to a distance from
the great theater of modern wars. But the vast countries of
South America are near at hand, and present an arena for warfare much more tempting to that sort of cupidity, which formerly impelled both people and governments to fall upon the
weak and defenseless, in order to aggrandize themselves~
Rome, when it made war upon all the nations of Italy, was a
more unequal match for them, than the United States would
be against all South America. But Rome and the United
States have been placed in very different periods of the
world.
But whatever may be the causes which have produced so
marked and so general a disinclination to war among the,
American people, it was of the greatest importance that the
experiment of peace, as a part of the permanent policy of a
state, should be fairly made. The experiment has proved that
an abstinence from military pursuits, is not only consistent
with the highest civilization, the greatest national power, and
the most enduring prosperity, but that it contributes directly
and powerfully to the furtherance of these ends.  It has
proved that the passion for war bears no resemblance to any
one of those natural instincts which are planted in the constitution of man for the purpose of stirring up and quickening
his higher faculties, and that it may be easily counteracted by
principles which possess much greater force.
The true secret of the steady adherence to a pacific policy
on the part of America, is to be found in the inconsistency of
any other policy with the maintenance of free institutions.
The moment it was determined to establish a republican form
* The Mexican war has occurred since this was written.




396              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOIK III.
of government, it became necessary to throw away military pursuits. For war is the most effectual instrument which can be
employed to undermine public liberty.
But even though we should admit that the policy pursued
by the United States is attributable to the peculiar position in
which it was placed, the example may be of unspeakable importance in its influence upon other nations. An experiment
made under one set of circumstances may suffice to show that
it may be made under all circumstances. For the circumstances are a mere accident, while the experiment itself is conformable to the interests of every civilized nation on the
globe.
A new state of things seems to be growing up in the European world; entirely variant from the old, and although it
does not entitle us to predict the total destruction of this last,
yet promises to make some approach to it, and distinctly indicates that the tendency to peace is one of the predominant
characteristics of the present age.
First, then, I observe that since the peace of Paris, which
closed the unexampled wars of the French revolution, princes
have made efforts such as have never before been known to
cultivate a good understanding among themselves. It is immaterial whether this combination has been formed for the
purpose of checking the progress of the democratic principle, so
visible everywhere. Princes very often intend to do one thing;
and the course they are compelled to pursue insures the accomplishment of another and totally different thing.  The fact
that such a concert does exist is inconsistent with the continual wars which once prevailed in that part of the world.
And if it is adhered to for another thirty years, by the principal European powers, it may eventuate in very important
consequences. It has created a counter revolution to the
French revolution: and this counter revolution only stands in
need of time, in order to render it successful. For in the second place, the democratic principle instead of losing, is constantly gaining ground. Crowned heads are afraid of their
subljects, and combine in order to secure their own authority;
and the steady growth of industry and popular intelligence,
which is the consequence of this pacific policy, is all the time
adding to the moral power of the people, and placing in their




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                397
hands, instead of in those of their rulers, the means.by which
alone peace can ever become the permanent policy of Europe.
For, in the third place, the prodigious impetus whlich has been
given to everydepartment of industry within the last thirty
years, is directly calculated to render the middle class the predominant class insociety. When it has fairly become so, the
disinclination to war will be nearly as manifest as it is in the
United States; not, perhaps, because the people of one period
are intrinsically better than those of another, but because, in
the vehement and obstinate pursuit of their own interests,
they have become insensibly inured to habits of peace, and
realize what the mass of an European population was not formerly in a situation to do, the importance of making peace
the fundamental policy of the state.
When the embargo was laid by the American republic in
1806, it was for the first time authoritatively announced to the
world that war is inconsistent with the prosperity of a free
state. And when in 1833 the industrious classes in France
protested against war with the United States, it was for the
first time authoritatively announced by an European people,
that it is inconsistent with the interests of even a monarchical state. Military pursuits then are irreconcilable with the
highest degree of national prosperity. War contributes to
alter the relative distribution of both property and power.
It takes property from the industrious classes in order to
bestow it upon a very different order of men: or what is
worse, it causes the destruction of wealth without any retribution whatever. I know of but one instance which seems to
form an exception to this view. During the wars which grew
out of the French revolution, Great Britain did not appear to
suffer materially. On the contrary, there were evident symptoms of a regular advance in wealth. Every department of
industry was alive and active. The maritime ascendency of
the nation enabled it to open new channels of commerce, and
to protect its vessels in almost every quarter of the globe.
This is the favorable view of the subject. But the true question is, what would have been the condition of the country, if
the expenses of the war had been defrayed by taxes collected
within the year? Instead of this being done, a debt has
been created so overwhelming, that no one dare believe that




398             NATUReE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IIt.
it will ever be paid; and which, whether it be paid or not,
will equally postpone the disasters of the war to a period far
beyond its termination. For if, on the one hand, a national
bankruptcy will dry up the income of great multitudes of people; on the other, the reimbursement of the debt will trench
so largely upon capital, as to shake to its foundation the commercial prosperity of the country.  When either of these
events occur, we will be able to form an adequate idea of the
influence of war in disturbing the natural distribution of
property.
Similar views are applicable to the question of the distribution of power. Property and power are invariably connected. Whatever affects the disposition of the first, affects
that of the last; whether as between different classes of the
people, or as between the people and the government. War,
more than all other circumstances put together, assists to
condense power in the hands of a few. Its effect upon the
distribution of power is more immediate and decisive, than it
is upon property.
It is not difficult to follow the process by which this revolution is effected. Impending danger, at home or from abroad,
may alarm the mass of peaceful citizens, but it inspires the
ambitious with resolution and boldness. If the crisis is at all
doubtful, if either civil or foreign war seems to be brooding,
a vague sense of patriotism persuades people that it is right
to confer ample power upon government to beat down the
evil, and a large military force is raised. But the usa of this
instrument, where liberty is not most solidly guarded, is apt
to give an exorbitant authority to the government. The imaginations of the people are intoxicated by the pomp and circumstance which are introduced upon the theater of public
affairs. They lend a disproportioned importance to those who
are the principal actors, and are led, step by step, to intrust
a larger and larger authority to public rulers. The army becomes an end instead of a means; war is provoked when peace
might easily have been maintained. And whether in consequecl;e of the altered modes of thinking which every one then
adopts as to the general tendency of war, or through the instrumentality of the army itself, the way is prepared, if not for
the conquest of the people, at any rate for greatly abridging
their liberties.




CHAP. III.]      OF F1iEE INSTITUTIONS.               399
It is not surprising, therefore, that the great mass of the
American people should feel such an aversion to war. There
is.no instance to be found, where this sentiment has been any
thing like so general or so strong. The nation no sooner goes
to war, than it sets about framing expedients by which to obtain peace. It is not from fear of the enemy, for no country
possesses both the " material" and "personnel" of war to a
greater extent. But the nation fears itself, and would put
away the temptation to acquire a dangerous greatness. Hitherto the disinclination to-military pursuits has been so great
among all parties, that it is not easy to form an estimate of
the consequences, if there should be anything like a general
change in the tone of public sentiment. Military men have
been bred in civil pursuits, or have lived during the greater
part of their lives in a state of profound peace. Their character consequently partakes more of that of the citizen than
of the soldier. It they are introduced into political life, they
find themselves entangled in the complicated network of our
free institutions, and the last thing which a soldier president
dreats of, is to employ the army for the purpose of perpetuating his power. But let public opinion run for any considerable period in an opposite direction, let military pursuits become more popular than trade, agriculture and manufactures,
and I, for one, would desire to hide myself from contemplating the countless evils, which would be the consequence. For
as no nation ever was endowed with such a capacity for doing
good: none has ever been endowed with such a capacity for
inflicting evil.
It is impossible to foretell with any accuracy, what will be
the issue of those immense political assemblages which are
constantly held in every part of the United States. The effect
may be to discipline two vast armies, which will ultimately
take up arms and tear each other in pieces. The experience
which we have had of domestic violence in some of our large
cities, proves that it would not be an impossible thing to embroil parties to such a degree as to occasion the most disastrous civil wars. On the other hand, the people may become
so familiarized to peaceful assemblages, and so habituated to
reflect upon the wide-spread ruin which would be the consequence of a resort to arms, that the greatest political excite



400               NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOK III.
ment may always terminate, as it has hitherto done, in merely
affecting the ballot box. On the issue of this experiment are
suspended the destinies of this great republic.
The disposition to reflection, is one of the remarkable characteristics of the men of the present day. Two circunmstances
have contributed to awaken it.  1st. The prodigious development of industry.  Commerce, agriculture and manrufactures
are now conducted on so immense a scale, and iiterest so
great a number of minds, that they have to a great extent
superseded the practice of war. 2d. The men of' the present
day have more individuality, if I may so express myself, thanl
at any former period. The first circumustance supplies matei ials
on which reflection may exercise itself. The second develo)ps
the faculty itself. For by rendeiing iIdividuals more depenldent upon themselves and less dependent upon a elass, they
are thrown upon their own resources, and exercise more caution, prudence and judgment in their behavior. And when
this habit has been established in private life, it is very naturally and even necessarily transferred to the scene of public
affairs.
When I was a young man, I have heard older persons relate,
that in their time it was expected tlat at all dinner parties the
guests should not only be of good cheer, but that they should
driDk until they were merrily drunlk. The custom had been of
time. immemorial, anrd not to colotrmnl to it, was considered as
an indication of a poor-spirited lellow. This practice is now
unknown among atn5 thing like goo,( company. It is banished
to the night cellars and other haunlts ot the dissipate(l. I also
observed that a gleat many other challnges had taken tplace in
the manners; that for ten duels not~ more than one wa, tfought
now. I concluded that there,,ust, be some generatl cause for
so great a change, anrd I traced it to t1Je strong habit of reflection which had gown up. I 1tut1, 11(hat the alteratii, n in the
manners showed itself in public life also; and I will onlly refer to one or two exuamples. At the time when the struggle
between the Unionl ani d the inlnliititation pa rtie.s was at its
height, when thet ecxacerbatil o (ct eeliigs was so intense, that
the least circutrlsta(.ce, a look,i a -..strure might, lead to a
sanguinary coiflict, tire leadelts, i llose parties entered into
a forial agreement t that not ornl. slo,,uld Jno wanton iusult be




CIndP. IIT.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                401
offered by any individual of one party to any individual of the
other, but that the most active and vigilant precaution should.be talken to prevent any occurrence which might by possibility
lead to it. During the extreme excitement of feeling which
preceded the presidential elections in Tennessee, in 1844, a
similar agreement was entered into by the two parties in Nashville.
Nothing is more common than to see politicians pursue a
line of conduct which they intend shall advance their own influence and authority, and which, nevertheless, terminates in
setting bounds to both. What the leaders of the parties often
desifgn to effect, by these political meetings, is to promote
their own selfihli aims: to obtain office immediately, or to prepare the way for their elevation at the first favorable moment.
If endowed with ambition, resolution and self-command, they
may be disposed to wink at the most offensive conduct on the
part of their adherents, in order to bring matters to extrernities. By embroiling the two parties in a civil dissension, they
would render themselves more necessary to their respective
partisans. But the course which they are insensibly impelled
to pursue, once they have fairly entered upon the career of public debate, is calculated to give an entirely new turn to affairs.
Civil war rarely makes its way through the muedium of public
debate. Discussion and reasoning on such an extended scale
presupposes a wide diffusion of information, and a very general
disposition to reflection among the great mass of the people,
both of which are greatly assisted by listening to these debates. The independent condition in which the bulk of the
population are placed, their educated habits, and the strong
masculine sense which the two conjoined produce, impart to
them a strong appetite for public discussion. When the plan
ot holding these conventions was first introduced, the public
mind seized upon it with avidity, as something which it had
long been in search of. For nothing presents so imposing and
animating a spectacle as do these assemblages, since they
bring into play a living instead of a merely fictitious sympathy. The love of strong sensation is an universal trait in the
human character; and it finds vent in this way. Hence political assemblages may be said to constitute the amusements of
the American people. The crowds who attend them desire to
26




402               NATURE AND TENtENCY  [             jooK III.
hear public affairs talked over and reasoned about,. And the
leaders of parties are compelled to follow this bent of their
disposition.  However incompetent a great number of the
speakers may be, their ambition is at any rate directed into a
new channel.  They strive to make display of their iuformiation, to show their acquaintance with the political history of
the country, to grapple with the most difficult proble  s of
legislation.  Every step they take only raises up fresh obstacles in the way of civil war. An intellectual cast, iit spite of
themselves, is given to the whole machinery of parties; and
instead of those dark conspiracies and acts of desperate violence which have been so common in other countries, the
efforts of these politicians simply terminate in curbiing their
own almbition, and in making the people more deeply sensible
than ever of the deplorable consequences of civil iI ubordiuation. The European kings raised the privileges of the towns,
in order to use thetn in bridling the power of the nobii ty. The
t.esult was, that the towns succeeded in checking the powiier of
1both kings and nobility.
It is one great advantage of these meetings, that they bring
4the country and the town population into conta-ct and association with each other. Political conventions, whie    h wnere   once,held only in large cities, are now equally common in the agricultural districts. The meeting may take place ia' tfae caoi:unty
townl; but vast numbers from the country flock -to it.. I 7Larve
knowvn twenty, thirty, fifty thousand people as.sembled, on these
occasions. Now the rural population are the natnlirim balahnce
of the city population.  In other countries, in consequence of
the want of combination among the former, and their destitution. of the means of instruction, the inhabitants  cf'bh t;owns
have had things all their own way. But in the Unitecd States,
the means of instruction are imparted to all parts of th,- population; and political conventions afford the niost fialvorable
opportunity for concert and united efforts.
The military institutions of the United Stltes stanLd Upon a
different footing from what they do in Europe.    the Enropean states an army is kept up, ostensibly to provide a against
the contingency of foreign war, but wNith the fulrtlher design  of
maintaining the authority of government at home. That which;is the principal end a.iong the nations'of the old itorld, is not




cimtl'. HI.I      OF FREE 1NS''ITUTO'NS,               403
even a subordinate end in America, The government of the
United States relies upon the people themselves for the preservation of order. And that this reliance has not been misplaced, an experience of nearly seventy years amply testifies.
This very remarkable difference between the military institutions of these nations is the natural and necessary consequence of the difference in their civil institutions. As in the
UTnited States the government is the workmanship of the
people, by the people is it most naturally preserved: but as
in the old world it is a sort of self:existing institution, it is
driven to rely upon its own resources for the maintenance of
its authority. The European princes eomnplain that obedience
to the laws cannot be insured, unless they are placed in possession of an imposing military force. And how can it be
otherwise, when the laws are neither made by the people, nor
for the people. In Itally and Spain, when a murder has been
committed, persons who are spectators of the deed flee instantly, in -order that their testimony, if possible, may not be
used against the crininal. So detestable in their eyes is the
whole apparatus of government, that they involuntarily shrink
from lending assistance in the detection or condemnation of
the criminal. And the same feeling seizes every one, on occasion of those civil disorders which are infractions of the law
upon a much larger scale. The army is the king's, not the
people's; and let the king take care of himself, seems to be
the language of the spectators.
In the United States an insurrection against the laws, in
which a majority of the people should be embarked, is an
event which cannot take place. In the European states, it has
frequently occurred - and would happen still oftener, if the few
did not grasp a weapon of powerful efficacy in repressing
popular grievances. In the United States the militia, which
is only a collection of the citizens, constitutes the reliance of
government in suppressing disturbances, whenever the ordinary police is not sufficient for the purpose.
The difficulty of creating a militia in the European states,
arises from the extreme repugnance of those governments to
permit the people to have arms. The permission, wherever it
exists, is regarded in the light of a privilege, and is accompanied with the most odious restrictions. The celebrated statute




404              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IIt.
of William and Mary, generally known as the bill of rights,
allows persons "to have arms for their detense, suitable to
their condition and degree, and such as are allowed by law."
The words which qualify the privilege are provokingly ambiguous; and were doubtless intended to be so, in order to
wait a more favorable opportunity for asserting the full authority of government. Accordingly, the statute of George
III, c. 1, and 2, authorizes justices of the peace to seize arms,
whenever they believe them to be in possession of persons for
dangerous purposes.
Now one can conceive of a militiato whom arms were never
intrusted, except when they were actually called into service,
but it would be a militia without a soul. The single circumstance that the American government feels no jealousy whatever, as to the carrying of arms by private individuals, sheds
a flood of light upon both the civil and military institutions of
the country. In truth, there is no such institution as a militia,
in the proper signification of the term, in any European state.
It is the offspring of free goverment, and can only exist in
conjunction with it. In Great Britain, by an act passed in the
reign of George It, a certain number of the inhabitants, selected
by ballot, were to be organized as a militia for successive terms
of three years. They were to be annually called out, trained,
and disciplined for a certain number of days, and the officers
to be appointed among the lords, lieutenants of counties, and
the principal landholders. But this force was only intended
as auxiliary to the regular army, and the whole scheme has
been long since abandoned. The plan of training and disciplining the whole adult population, in peace as well as in war,
has never been entertained except in the United States. The
national guard of France approaches the nearest to it. In
theory, it is composed of the entire adult male population; but
in practice it is otherwise. The disinclination of the great
majority of the lower classes to leave the employments on
which they depend for subsistence, has established a sort of
dispensation for them from this service: so that the national
guard rather resembles the uniform companies, than the ordinary militia of the United States. It is very much the same
in Great Britain. The militia there simply means the yeomanry, a body of men organized in each county, but selected




CHAP. III]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                405
from  among those who are known to be well affected to the
government. The election of their own officers by the national
guard has not grown out of the revolution. The practice was
introduced by Louis Xi.
As is often the case, where what was once a privilege has
become the common property of all, the people in some of the
American states appear to set very little value upon their
character as soldiers. Public opinion appears to have undergone a very great change with regard to militia duty. Iu
Massachusetts, lMaine, and Vermont, compulsory drills became
so unpopular, that they were at length abolished. In Massachusetts, the sum of fifty thousand dollars is annually appropri.ated to any number of the militia, not exceeding ten thousand, for voluntary duty a certain number of days in every
year. In Maine, the militia system is retained by continued
enrollment of all who would be bound at her call to come forth
for the support of the laws, or the defense of the soil. In Vermont, the laws requiring militia drills have been repealed, and
in their place has been substituted an enrollment similar to
that for jury purposes, of all who under the old system would
have been liable to militia service. The militia system is retained in these states as the only effective military force, but
the frequent mustering deducted so much time from the civil
pursuits of the people, that it has been dispensed with. They
only who compose the substantial power of the commonwealth,
can afford to abstain from continual display: of it.




406             NATURE AND TENDENCY                11300oI III
CH AP T E     I-V.
INSTI''UTION OF THE PRESS.
TiHE press is a component part of the machinery of free
government. There would be an inconsistency, then, in arguing whether it should be free. It is the organ of p)ublic opinion, and the great office which it performs is to effect a distribution of power throughout the community. It accomplishes
this purpose by distributing knoledge, and diffusing a coimmonl sympathy among the great mass of the population.
Knowledge of some sort or other all men must act upon in
the ordinary affairs of life, in order to render their exertions
fruitful of any result. Political society, which connects men
together while living in the most distant parts of an extensive
country, i in lneed of a still wider range of information.  It
would be correct, therefore, to say that the freedom  of the
press -wa  to knowledge, what the abolition of primogeniture
wIas to property: the one diffuses knowledge, as the other diffuaes property.
If we inquire, Fyhy in most countries so much power is concentrated in the hands of government, the answer is, )plainly,
that knowledge is condensed in the same proportion. If we
could suppose it to be uniformly diffused, government would
cease to be a power: it would become a mere agency. For
although it would be necessary to confide exclusive trusts to
the public magistrates, in order to conduct the joint interests
of society, yet the extent and activity of public opinion would
give control to the power out of the government. This is an
extreme case; and an extreme case is the most proper to illustrate the intermediate degrees, where the shades of difference
are so minute as to run into one another.
If, in a state where representative government was established, we should suppose the press to be suddenly annihilated,
the political institutions would not long preserve their chart
acter. As there would be no superintending control anywhere,




CHAP. IV.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                    407
and no acquaintance with what was transacted in public life,
the aftairs of state would soon be involved in the deepest mystery. Knowledge would be confined to the men who were the
chief actors upon the stage of public life, and the very necessary authority which had been conferred upon them, in order
to further the public welfare, would be converted into a %mere
engine of power.  Usurpation would be heaped upon usurpation.  Society would at first be a scene of infinite confusion.
During this period, there would be many violent struggies between liberty and power. But as a state of disor-der can nrever
be the permanent condition of any commlunuity, the contest
would terminfapte in the consolidation of power.  And? this
vantage-groIund once obtained, the population wol1d  easily be:molded so as even to co-operate in carryinig out, thle deesigns of
the governing authority.
If the press were extinguished, the great princirple on w.xhicih
representat:ive government hinges, the responsibility of public
agoents to the people, would be lost from  society; except in
those few instances where the duties to be pIerformed were
confined within so narrow a circle as to, render them the subject of'as direct supervisionl as the affairs of private life. The
parish a,-nd the township officer would continue to b-Pe wiatched
and controlled, until the revolution I h'rve dlesc r.bed esta,blished a system  of universal centralization, antl wrested the
power of electing even those offiers froin tYhe people.
Theses views afford a sufficiently clear iliasirattion "of the
truth of the observation, that the principal fuanltion whTlich the
press performs in a political view, is to equalize powker throughout all parts of the community.
The power which opinions exert upon society, is in direct
proportion to the intrinsic value they possess, and to the publici ty which they acquire. Both these circumstances are affected by the condition of the press, whic'h gives impulse to
thought, and free circulation to opinions.  The action of mind
upon mind, sharpens the faculties and kindles enthusiasm
and tlhe extent to which an opinion prevails, indicates the
number of persons whom it interests, and the degree of concert which is established among them. A thought, wvrapped
up in the bosoms of a fBw indiiiduals, can never acquire i nportaunce; but when it engages the sympathy of a greatt Inul



408              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOIC IIl.
titude, it becomes more than a thought: it is then a new
power added to public opinion.
gWhat we term public opinion, is not the opinion of any one
set of nmen, or of any particular party, to the exclusion of all
others. It is the combined result of a great number of differing opinions. Some portion of truth often adheres to views
and speculations which are apparently the most unreasonable,
and it is the true side which they present, that goes to swell
and to make nup the sum of public opinion. Not that this is
always the case-not that it is the case in any particular
instance-but the tendency is constantly in that direction.
Very important consequences follow from this in ia political
point of view. The mixture of so many opinions, causing
light to be shed upon each, contributes to moderate the tone
of party spirit. Howxever irreconcilable the views of parties
may appear to be, a free communication cannot be established
between them without producing a visible influence of each
upon all. The press, in its efforts to widen the breach, and to
make one opinion predominant, is compelled to make all opinions known, and creates the very process by which all are
sought to be rectified. The free exposition of the views of
patrties constitutes a sort of lesser experience, which supersedes t4he necessity of actual experiment as a means of testing
the utilty of each. The public administration is prevented
from  running rapidly from one extreme to another, and in
spite of the machinations of all sorts of lparties, the people
are insensibly drawn to the defense and adoption of wiser and
more wholesome measures. Political contentions, i:i a monarchy or aristocracy, are like those personal rencounters in
which one party is beaten to the ground. But the war of
opinions is not conducted after this manner, for there the
weaker side often rises from  the conflict with redoubled
strength.
Opinions may be even absolutely absurd and preposterous,
and yet may contain a sort of negative truth. A system of
religious belief, founded upon the grossest superstition, may
simply signify to the men of other sects, that their practices
are totally at war with the pure doctrines which they profess
to teach.  So it is said that in some parts of the United States
individuals are to be found who have a predeliction for mon



CHAP. IV.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 409
archical government.  Such fanciful notions cannot put out
the light of the nineteenth century; but they may read a very
instructive lesson to the men of all parties.  They may signify
to many who espouse free institutions: "Your conduct is inconsistent with the noble sentiments you profess to admire.
Your designs are the most selfish and unpatriotic imaginable;
and you would leave no stone unturned in order to compass
them. If this were not so, our opinions could not stand up
for a moment. In Anmerica, at least, they would never have
gained entrance into a single bosom."  Thus tlhe existence of
error often leads to a clearer sight of the truth, and the wide
dissemination which the press gives to opinions, increases the
intensity of the light by which all parties are enabled to see
their sentiments reflected.
The facility with which opinions are promulgated, might
seem  to be unfavorable to stability in the public councils.
And if it were so, it would be preferable to the complete despotism of one opinion over all others. But all change, which
is the result of liberal inquiry, invariably leads to stability,
for this never consists in the inflexible pursuit of one line of
policy, but in listening to suggestions from all quarters, and
causing the public administration to rest upon the widest
foundation possible. Certain it is, that although this may
never be the design of those who stand at the head ot public
afftirs; yet in a democratic republic, the existence' of the
press, some how or other, insures that it shall sooner or later
be brought about.
In France during the reign of the Bourbons, and in England
in that of the Tudors, one set of opinions ruled the state, and
it was ruled with a rod of iron. In America, where one party
has never been able to succeed to the extent of an extreme
opinion, the public admistration, although wearing occasionally the appearance of fickleness, has in the main preserved a
character of remarkable consistency.  It has been made firm
only at the cost of being enlightened.
The press nmay then be regarded as an extension or amplification of the pr neiples of representation.  It reflects the
opinions of all classes as completely as do the deputies of the
people. The difference consists in this, that it has the ability
to influence, without that of compelling. And there is this




410              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK III.
advantage attending it, that it is in constant activity before
the public mind, and does not like the legislative body speak
only periodically to the people. Checks in government, as I.
have before remarked, are of two kinds: positive and indirect.
The European states afford instances enough of the first: the
American republic exhibits a great example of the second.
Public opinion is the great preventive check of civil society,
aund wherever it is firmly established, the necessity of a recourse to the system of positive checks is to the same extent
diminished.
When Cecil, the celebrated minister of Elizabeth, established the first newspaper in England, he little thought that
he was creating a powerful counterpoise to that throne of
which he was an idolator. To disseminate information with
regard to the movements of the Spanish armada, and thus
to assist the country in making a vigorous and concerted
resistance to a foreign enemy, was his design.  The most
exagggerated accounts were circulated with regard to the
Spanish armament, terror Mas spread among the inhabitants,
and Lord Burleigh, who had reflected maturely upon the
moral influence which the press was calculated to exert,
fell upon this expedient as a certain means of relieving
the public mind from anxiety, and inspiring it with resolution. The journal which he called into being, diffused information  far and wide, corrected the misrepresentations
which, were afloat, and produced  union  and combination
among all parts of the population. But the plan has resulted
in a vast and complicated system, by which the right of the
people are protected from invasion by their own government.
A new engine was created, which has contributed materially
to effect all the great changes which have since taken place
in favor of civil liberty.  In 1821, there were twenty-four
millions of newspapers annually sold in Great Britain. In
1827, there were twenty-seven millions circulated in the Uiited States.
The process by which this great revolution has been brought
about is very obvious. The press has given a voice to an
immensely numerous class of the population, who before composed a mere lifeless and inert body, but who now contribute
essentially to the formation of what we term public opinion.




CIIAP. I. ]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                411
A single newspaper may be very barren and uninteresting;
but the sum of all the information which is in this way brought
to bear upon the public mind is incalculable. What we stand
in need of, is information, and not merely the result of information. The great mass of mankind acquire knowledge with
surprising facility, when it is communicated in detail. Facts
thus presented have a distinctness which gives them an easy
admission to the mind, and the conclusions which are deduced,
are both more comprehensive and more practical. The sagacious and inquisitive spirit of very obscure men in the inferior
walks of life, frequently stirs the public mind on questions of
the greatest interest to society. Such persons often suggest
hints and anticipate improvements which mnen of cultivated
understandings, and more intent upon past history than upon
the character and genius of their own age, would not have
had the boldness to adopt. Perhaps it would not be too much
to affirm, that almost all the great revolutions in human affairs may be traced to this source. The wealthy and educated, having attained the goal of their ambition, have nothing
further to desire. Their views and exertions are confined to
their own order.  If such is the case with the men who occupy
a lower position in society, if they also are intent upon advancing their own interests, we at any rate make sure, when
activity is imparted to them, that all orders of men in the
state shall be taken care of. But to give activity to the great
classes oft society, is in effect to connect them together, to Aforml
substantially one class, and to create a system of opinions and
interests which shall be common to the whole populations
Accordingly in the United States, men of all conditions are
found associated in endeavors to extend education, to promote public improvements of every kind, and above all to further the interests of religion and morality. The great advantage which the towns formerly possessed over the country,
consisted in their superior intelligence, and greater ability to
combine for any public purpose. But the dispersion of knowledge by means of the public journals, has placed the city and
the rural population on nearly the same footing;-another
example of the influence of the press in producing an equal
distribution of both knowledge and power, throughout the
community.




412             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [300K III.
The freedom of religion, of suffrage, and of the press, which
has been introduced into some countries, was brought about
by the very reasonable complaints of men who occupied an
inferior position in society. The learned and the educated
con sulted their books, interrogated history: they paused, they
doubted, they refused, until at last public opinion grew to be
too strong. Suddenly, a great change was effected in the political institutions, and as government was thencelorward
made to stand upon a broader foundation than before, and to
interest all classes in its preservation, those who had predicted
that the most fatal consequences would follow from such innovations, were surprised to see their calculations lalsified, and
to find that every interest which pertained to society had acquired additional stability.
The political press in the United States has a different character from what it has anywhere else. As there are no privileged classes, it is emphatically the organ of popular opinion.
Society is divided into parties, but they are all parties of the
people. The moment the people drew to themselves the whole
political power, public disputes began to wear a new aspect.
They ceased to be the feuds of distinct orders of men, and became the quarrels of members of one of the same family.
And it is needless to add, that this was not calculated to lessen the acrimony of political dissensions; on the contrary, it
has greatly increased it. But there is this compensation for
the mischief: that instead of the terrific assaults of two hostile combatants upon one another, the power of the press is
broken up into small fragments, and we have only a war of
skirmishes.
The journals of no country surpass those of the -United States
in ribaldry and abuse. But a great part of what we term public discontent, is in reality only private discontent in disguise.
Our private troubles we do not care to divulge, because hardly
any one can take an interest in them; they are deposited
among the secrets of the human heart. But the burden is
too great, and every one endeavors to find out some circuitous
means of giving vent to them.  As scon, therefore, as the exciting topics of political controversy begin to agitate the publie, the fiQry elements of the character are seen to burst forth.
All those private discontents which originated in envy, per



CHAtP. tv. ]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  413
sonal animosity, naighborhood bickerings, -the finding one's
self placed in a false position to the rest of society, in fortune,
reputation, or understanding, immediately disclose themselves,
and give a bitterness and vulgarity to public disputes which
do not properly belong to them.  Mien throw the mantle of
polities over their faces, and fight each other in masks. The
consequence of this state of things is, that private character
and personal conduct of almost every kind, are the subject of
attalck, beyond anything which is known elsewhere.
So long as legislators are reduced to the necessity of,g'overning by general rules, society must in part be regulated by the
rival p assions and propensities of individuals. They who narrowly scan American society may believe that it is in danger
of being universally overrun by backbiting; and what in its
vulgar form is party politics, but backbiting reduced to system?
But this melancholy infirmity, like may other defects, is designed to have a salutary influence. In private life it assumes
the character of a regulative principle, by which, in the absence
of any better corrective, men succeed in keeping eacl other
in order. Nor is its influence in public less conspicuous; for
there also it contributes to put every one upon his good behavior. If the American journals were exclusively the, organs
of the refined and educated, their tone would undoubtedly be
more elevated. But it must be recollected that the groand
work of the human character is pretty much the slme in all
classes. People living in p)olished society have passions and
propensities as well as the common people; only in the formner
case they are not put forth with so much nakedness. It mlay
then be inquired, whether it is not one capital object of all institutions, whether in private or public life, to draw a veil over
the bad side of human nature, so as to hide from view the selfishness and deformities of the character. And the answser is
plain: such is the object, wherever the concealment does not
have the effect of protecting from censure and rebuke the vices
which are in disguise.
As all the parties which exist in the American republic originate among the people, and are essentially popular parties,
it follows that the press is a censorship over the people: and
yet a censorship created by the people. There would, conse



414              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOK III.
quently be no meaning in the office of a censor appointed by
the governm-ent. That institution is superseded by the very
nature of the American press. Where a censorship is established by, the political authority of the state, it is applied to
restrain one class of publications only. No one ever heard, in
a monarchical or aristocratical government, of any attempt to
forbid the circulation of writings which were calculated to increase the influence of the prince and nobility. The utmost
indulgence is extended to them; while a rigorous control is
exercised over every appeal in behalf of popular rights. Popular licentiousness is bridled; but there is no restraint upon
the licentiouncess of men in power. There is but one way of
remedying thes defect, and that is by causing the press itself
to performn the office of censor; in other words, to grant such
absolute freedom to all the political journals, that each shall
be active and interested in detecting the misrepresentations
and inipostures of the others.  There is a real and formidable
censorship of the press in America, but the institution is in
and not out of the press. The consequence is, that the efforts
of all parties are more vehement and untiring, and yet more
harmless and pacific than in any other country.
I shall conclude this chapter with two reflections. The first
is a -very obvious one' it is that the existence of a free press
is not alone sufficient to inspire a people with a just, sense of
liberty, and to cultivate in them  these qualities which are
necesstry to the establishment and maintenance of free institutions. The press was free in Denmark, Sweden and Prussia,
until very modern times. It is nearly so in China. But in all
these countries the moral power to set in motion this vast engine is wanting. The Prussian and Danish youth may be as
well educated as the American, but the Prussian citizen is not
half so well edncated as the American citizen.
The second reflection is, that the press must not be regarded
merely as the representative of political opinions. The dissemination of information in the daily journals, in magazines,
pamphlets and books, on a variety of subjects interesting to
the pFopular mind, withdraws the attention of the people from
a tlot intense devotion to party politics, and educates them to
be both nien and citizens.




CHAP. v.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 J415
CHAPTER V.
ARISTOCIRATICAL INSTITUTIONS.
THiEuRE is a fine observation of Adam Smith, in the "' Theory
of Moral Sentiments," relative to the formation of ranks.  He
remarks, that where there is no envy in the case, we sympathize more readily with the good than withl the bad fbrtune of
individuals; and as much envy cannot be suppOosed to exist
among the great mass of common people, they feel a real delight in beholding the prosperity and luxury of the rich; and
in this way the foundation of an aristocracy is laid. The observation is neither recondite nor far-fetched; on the contrary,
it is both solid and ingenious, and is founded in the deepest
nsight into human nature. The same idea seems to have
struck Bonaparte when he was revolving the plan of establishing the "legion of honor." Hfe was struck with the curiosity which the populace exhibited in surveying the rich
uniforms and decorations of the dignitaries who surrounded
him. There was always a crowd in the neighborhood of his
residence to witness the show. "See," said he to those who
objected to the unpopularity of the institution, "~ see these
futile vanities which geniuses disdain. The populace is not
of their opinion. It loves those many-colored cordons. The
democrat philosophers may call it vanity, idolatry. But that
idolatry and vanity are weaknesses common to the whole
human race; and from both great virtues may be made to
spring."  In order to the existence of an aristocracy, it is not
merely necessary that there should be great inequality in the
distribution of wealth; it is necessary, also, that this condition of society should fall in with the prevailing tastes and
prejudices of the people. A privileged class  may. be created
by dint of force; bNit to mainlain its existence for any considerable time, it must some how or other interweave itself with
the affections and sentiments of the people.




416            NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK III.
But Adams Smith does not direct the attention of his readers
to another fact of still greater importance, inasmuch as it prevents the rise of a privileged class, or prepares the way for its
extirpation after it has been established.  WVe may very easily
suppose a state of society in which the common people, being
lifted to a considerable share of independence, will feel more
self-respect, and have less admiration for outwar(d show and
splendor; at any rate, in which the envy of which Adam Smith
speaks will stifle that sentiment of admiration. About the
time he wrote, commenced that extraordinary prosperity of
the English nation which has continued with little interruption to the present day, and which has given a prodigious impulse to all sorts of industry: to commerce, manufactures and
agriculture.,But the effect has been to raise up from among
the ranks of the people, once so poor and humiliated, a forinidable class whose wealth eclipses that of the nobility. And
a further consequence is, that the sympathy which was before
felt in the fortunes and reputation of a privileged body is now
engrossed by an exceedingly nume-rous class of the population.
The envy of which Adam Smith speaks now begins to show
itself. The people feel that they are able to rival the aristocracy in wealth and intelligence, and they envy the exclusive
privileges which are accorded to that aristocracy. I think I
can discern many symptoms of a loosening of the hold which
the institution once had upon the popular mind. As the absence of envy among a thoughtless and ignorant people contributed to the formation of ranks, an opposite cause may tend
gradually to undermine their influence. The institution has
already ceased to be hereditary in France, and some other
countries. The curious trait of character which Bonaparte
observed in the French pcpulace, has been wonderfully modified by some other circumstances.
In the United States there is no foundation upon which to
build an aristocracy. Landed property is very equally distributed; and the laws prohibiting primogeniture and entails,
prevent its accumulation beyond a very limited period. It is
the greatest nation of proprietors which has ever existed. One
may observe signs of the same love of splendor and outward
show which are visible among the people; for, the French ruler
remarked, it is common to the whole race of mankind. Never




CHAP. V.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                417
theless, the feeling is different from what it is in other countries.
Instead of making people contented with their own condition,
and satisfied with beholding the splendor and outward show
which others make, it renders every one uneasy and restless,
and goads them to unceasing exertions to procure to themselves some of the advantages of fortune.
As it is the effect of free institutions to take power from the
superior ranks, and to add power to the popular body, in the
progress of time these two classes change places. The aristocracy is converted into the democracy, and the democracy into
the aristocracy; for there where the political power resides,
will reside also the aristocracy. What,vas once, the governing
power, becomes the subject body. Hence, in popular government, one may observe a general disposition, not only to pay
court to the people, but to imitate their manners, and to fall
down to the level of their understandings.
Declamatory talent takes the place of genuine eloquence,
superficial views of profound thinking. It maty also be said
that the people set the fashion in every respect. And if it
were not for a tendency in an opposite direction, if the people
were not making constant efforts to elevate themselves, the
condlition of society would be melancholy in the extreme. For
the true democratic principle does not consist in letting down
the highest in the land to the level of the' lowest, bat ia lifting
the greatest possible number to the highest standard of independence and intelligence. Although those who endeavor to,
inlgratiate themselves with the people are intent upon advancing their own interests, they some how or other succeed in
giving an impulse to popular improvement. Foreigners sup-.
pose that the democratic institutions of America are calculated,
to degrade the character of all public men, and to lower the.
general tone of intellectual and moral excellence. But it is.
important to look to ultimate and permanent results, and not
merely to immediate consequences. Candidates for office are
doubtless, in numerous instances, led to the employment of
arts, and the cultivation of qualities, which are unfavorable to
the growth of a sturdy and manly virtue.  But ind(ependently
of the fact that these qualities would, under any other form ofgovernment, be found to exist, only under difltcrent forms, and
with more mischievous tendencies, the great desideratum is,
27




418               NATURE AND TENDENCY               [Bnoo  II.
obtained-that of bringing about an association among the
different orders of men of which the state is composed. The
superior man may for the time being be lowered, but the inferior man will be sure to be elevated. The opportunities which
most of the candidates have enjoyed in some degree, their pursuits in after life, their addiction to politics, even if it be only
the superficial part of the science, enable them to impart somne
things to the people which the people are very inquisitive to
learn, anrd the knowledge of which would be otherwise withheld from them in consequence of their daily occupations. The
general intercourse which is thus established gives the most,ordinary mind some tolerable insight into public affairs, initiates the uninstructed into the conduct of public men, and the:import of the public measures, so that the mind the most cap~tious and the least disposed to estimate free government at its.t r-e value must see, upon reflection, that the adva.ntages
sprlin~ging from this order of things greatly prepond-l-te over
4he mischief which is incident to it. It is impossible to pro-,duce as general an intercourse among all cla: ses as is desirable,
-without incurring the mischief. But the intercourse gives to
the popular understanding a very important discipline. Cnri-,osity is the first step in the acquisition of knowledge; rouse
that among a whole people, and you possess yourself of the
master-key to their faculties,  The common people even -form
exaggerated notions of the advantages of information, after
listening to repeated conversations and discourses of plublic
men. A strong and general taste for education is diffused.among them; and in progress of time a new people grols up,
which is able to detect the hollowness of those artifices which
were before employed to gain its favor. The evil is corrected,by that. same instrumentality which it wa. supposed would
augment and perpetuate it. Doubtless politicians are bent
upon promoting their own interests in their efforts to win the.good will of the people. But some how or other, public aind
private interests are inseparably connected. Providence has
wisely ordered that there shall be no way by which men can
substantially and permanently advance their own interests,
without advancing that of others. The lawyer, the physician,
the merchant, are all chiefly intent upon lifting themselves in
-the scale of society; but they cannot do so without scattering




CHAP. v.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               419
benefits around them, and lifting the condition of others as
well as of themselves.
Wealth and refinement, when they are not confined to a
separate order, are not necessarily unfavorable to a high
standard of intelligence and morals; on the contrary, they
may be bighly instrumental in the promotion of both. If this
were not the case, the condition of a free people would be the
most hopeless imaginable; for they are destined to make the
most rapid advances in the acquisition of riches.
Let us walk through the apartments of the rich man, and
survey the interior economy of his house.   Te can only
obtain a lively and correct picture of society, by examining
the minute and delicate springs which govern it. The first
thing which strikes us is the number of persons who compose
the househeld. Besides the family proper, the easy circumstances in which he is placed enable him to employ several
persons to attend to the various offices of the house. There
is at once the introduction of a principle of order and regularity. The larger the family, and the more numerous the
occupations, the greater the necessity for rules by which to
govern it. The very subordination in which the members of
the household are placed, is favorable to a system of discipline in every part. The head of the family is constrained
to exercise a certain degree of authority, and this authority is
chiefly displayed in the maintenance of order and arrangement in each one's occupations. The education of his children, is one of the first things which engages the attention of
a man placed in independent circumstances. If he has not
been educated himself, his heart is the more set upon it on
that very account. This contributes still further to introduce
the elements of good morals into the bosom of the family. If
there is refinement and luxury, and even ostentation, there
are also some powerfully counteracting principles in operation. The authority of the head of the family cannot be mtaintained, the obedience of his children cannot be easily won, if
he breaks through the rules of morality, annd sets an example
which is at war with all the precepts which he undertakes to
inculcate. There cannot be one code of ethics for parents, and
another for children. The consequence is, that children will
impose a restraint upon parents, as well as parents upon ohil



490            NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK IH.
dren. And however ineffectual the former may sometimes be,
yet in the great majority of instances, it will exercise a marked
influence upon the interior economy of the household. Individuals make great efforts to acquire property, in order that
they may live in what they term elegance; and they have no
sooner' succeeded in their desires, than they find themselves
surrounded by beings whose appetite for novelty and splendor
is even stronger than their own. The only way to maintain a
due authority in their families, without which everything
would run to confusion, and there would be neither elegance
nor enjoyment for any one, is to introduce a system of rules
for the government of the family. And these rules, to have
any effect, must somehow or other connect themselves with
the principles of morality. And when that is the case, the
wealth which was amassed in order to enable its possessor to
live independently and free from control, is the means of creating an active control in the bosom of private families. Manners, that is, good breeding and civility, are one of the
attendants upon a well-ordered, domestic society, and this
creates a new bond of connection, not only between the members of the family, but between them and the great society
out of doors. And it is very easy to see, even from this rapid
sketch, how the acquisition of wealth may contribute to elevate the general standard of morals and intelligence in the
community.
But the man placed in independont circumstances, has a
great variety of relations to society at large. He walks abroad,
and he finds other men engaged in enterprises of private and
public improvement. It he were a subject under a monarchical government, he would perhaps lend his fortune to aid in
conducting a foreign war. If he belonged to the order of nobles, in an aristocracy, he would expend it in furthering his
own aggrandizement, and that of his order. But he is simply
the citizen of a republic in which different modes of thinking
prevail, and he is absolutely unable to free himself from their
control. His whole conduct, whether he will or not, is governed by laws as fixed and determinate as those which guide
the actions of men in less easy circumstances. He becomes
the member of various societies for the promotion of knowledge, the diffusion of benevolence, the amelioration of the face




CHAP. V.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 421
of the country in which he lives. All this is calculated to
give him  great influence; but this influence is bounled by
the very nature of the enterprises in which he embarks, for
they contribute directly to the distribution of property and
knowledge among other men. He can only attain weight and
consequence in society, by efforts which tend to elevate the
condition of those who are belowv him. So that in a country
of free institutions, the acquisition of wealth by individuals
may be decidedly favorable to the cultivation of both public
and private virtue, at the same time that it can hardly fail to
promote the intellectual improvement of the whole population.
The influence of property is necessarily modified by the
structure of society, and the character of the institutions
which prevail at different times. At an early stage of civilization, a military aristocracy makes its appearance. There
is then little wealth, and that little is condensed iu the hands
of a few. To this succeeds a species of baronial aristocracy,
in which there is more wealth, but, the distribution is as
unequal as beforeo  And when free institutions are established, both these forms are superseded by the dispersion
of knowledge and property.  The title then ceases to be
a distinction. It is shared by so many, that there is no
possible way of causing wealth to enter as an element into
the structure of the government, without at the same time
giving supremacy to the popular authority. In the Italian
republics of the middle ages, the term, nobleman, signified
simply one who was the proprietor of land.  In Florence
alone, mercantile wealth was able at one time to dispute this
title with the possessors of the soil.
In the United States, where the distribution of wealth is
more complete than in any other country, one may remark
a difference in the groundwork of society in different parts
of the union. In New  England, a species of ecclesiastical
aristocracy, if I may so express myself, once prevailed. But
the growth of commercial and manufacturing industry has
modified that state of society, without at all impairing the
force of the religious principle. The term,'6 merchant princes,"
is still more applicable to the merchants of Boston, than it
was to those of Florence. In the south, a sort of baronial




422              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK II,
wealth exists; but two circumstances have concurred to prevent its assuming the character of a political aristocracy. The
laws of primogeniture and entail have been swept away;
so that a new distribution of property takes place at every
successive generation.  And although wealthy proprietors
have a great number of dependents, or retainers, yet this
class, possessing no political privileges themselves, are unable
to confer any upon those who are masters of the soil. There
is, in other words, this peculiarity attending the cultivation
of the soil in the south, that tillage is performed by a class
different from, and inferior to, the proprietors. Such an aristocracy, although it may confer personal independence, can
not create political authority. In the middle states, where
there are no such distinctive traits in the composition of society, an aristocracy of parties may be said to predominate.
Party spirit, accordingly rages with more violence in these
states, than in any part of the country.
But, notwithstanding these differences, there is an infinitely
greater uniformity of character among the people of America,
than is to be found anywhere else. As MI. de Toqueville remarks, there is less difference between the people of Maine
and Georgia, who live a thousand miles apart, than between
the people of Picardy and Normandy, who are only separated
by a bridge. So it is said that people inhabiting different
districts in the kingdom of lNaples are entirely strangers to
each other. And when two gentlemen from the city of Natples lately visited the Abruzza, in quest of information as to
the natural productions of the country, they found there many
medicinal plants, growing in the greatest profusion, which the
Neapolitans were regularly in the habit of importing frQin foreign countries.
The leading fact in the history of American civilization, undoubtedly consists in the very equal distribution of the landed
property of the country. And this is owing to the circumstances in which the country was found when it was settled
by Europeans. The population was so thin, and so entirely
below the standard of European civilization, that it quickly
disappeared, and left the whole field of enterprize open to the
whites. This is a fact quite new in the history of society.
Two effects immediately followed, each having an important




CETAP. v.]        Of FREE INSTITUTIONS.                   423
bearing upon the character of these settlements. First, two
distinct races, one the conquering, the other the conquered,
were not placed side by side of each ot-her to nourish interminable feuds, and to obstruct the quiet and regular growth
of free institutions.  Second, if the country in 1607 had contained as dense a population as Italy, at the foundationi of
the Roman commonwealthl; if it had only contained as fall a
population as Spain, Gaul, or Great Britain, when they were
subdued by the northern tribes, the territory in all human
probability would have been found divided atmiong, numerous
chiefs and petty nobles: and the colonists would most certainly have accomlmodated themselves to this c1,ondition of society. The new proprietors, instead of vatIant land, vwoulld
each have acquired cultivated estates, together with a retinue
of serfs and vassals, from  whom  the most aniple revenue
might be drawn. This would have been so gratifyingl to the
adventurous spirits who emigrated, some of whom were connected with the best families in England, and their notions
consequently tinged with the modes of thinking' thein prevalent, that the distribution of property wvould have become
very unequal, aid would have been perpetuated to this day.
But as it was, the whole country was a wilderness; the high
aind the low had to begin the world, by turning laborers themuselves. There were no great estates cultivated and aidorned,
and ready to be taken possession of; -no body of retainers,
who might help to form an European aristocracy. A11 then
were comlpelled to begin at the beginning'. ]Aen were from
the first trained in the school of adversity and harid labor.
The land was obliged to be sold, andl. cultivated in small ipareels, in order to give it any vwlue. Its treasures were a thing
in prospect only, depending upon what should be dlone hereafter, and not upon what had been done already. To rent it
was almost impossible, since the product was not more than
sufficient to reward the labor of the cuitivator.
Two effects followed from this: the land( was pretty equally
divided, and the agricultural population, instead of being divided into the two classes of proprietors and renters, assumed
almost universally the single characters of proprietors. Thfat
this has contributed to give an entirely new direction to the




424              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK III.
political institutions and the whole social economy of the
state, must be obvious to every one.
When the colonies were severed from the mother country,
an immense body of vacant land was claimed by the respective
states. This was ultimately ceded to the federal government;
and the system established by that government for the sale of
this land, has insured a still more uniform distribution than
existed before the revolution.
Similar causes influence the growth and municipal government of the American cities. Neither the aristocratic "regime"
of the Roman " commune" which prevails in the south of Europe, nor the gothic system of tradesmen and artificers, which
grew up in the middle ages, and still prevails in 5entral Europe, could well be introduced. It was the country people
who founded the villages, and continued to replenish them,
until they became large cities. These, when collected on the
present sites of New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, etc.,
found themselves in a state of as complete dependence as the
rural population. The foundation of equal privileges was laid,
and took the place of that equal division of the soil which
prevailed in the country. Nothing at all resembling the close
corporations which have existed in Europe, even in Scotland,
and Holland, has ever been known in America. That in Edinburg, a city containing one hundred and thirty thousand inhabitants, the city council should have been a self-existing
body, perpetuating itself by filling up vacancies in its members, and that the member of parliament should be chosen,
niot by the men of Edinburg, but by this same city council, is
a monstrosity which could hardly gain belief, if we did not
know as a historical fact, that such was the case up to the
year 1832.'L. Guizot, in his admirable work, " De la Civilization Francaise," (v. 5, ch. 18), has drawn a comparison between the rise of the cities in the south of France, and of
New York, Boston, New Havetn, and Baltimore. If he had
pointed out the striking contrast which exists in the municipal
"'regime" of these two very difficult species of "'communes,"
he would have aflbrded most solid instruction to his European
readers.
But whatever may have, been the beginnings of society in
America, if the country is destined to make prodigious ad



CHEAP. V.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 425
vances in wealth, will not aristocracy ultimately show itself?
will not society, even more than in other countries, contain a
very large body of wealthy individuals, who will attract to themselves an unreasonable share of influence?  And if we mean
by an aristocracy, a class of rich individuals, such will undoubtedly be the case. But whena we call them individuals,
and say that they will be exceedingly numerous, we point to
two circumstances which will limit their power and cast the
institution, if institution it can be called, in a different form
from what it has assumed anywhere else. There would be no
meaning in democracy, if it did not open up all the avenues to
distinction of every sort, and we may with much:more reason
hold up such a condition of society as exhibiting the c" beau
ideal" of the democratic form of polity,.
For aristocracy may be divided into two totally distinct
kinds; a civil and a political aristocracy. The first is the
very natural consequence of the unobstructed progress of the
population in wealth, refinement, and intelligence. The seeond is the workmanship of the laws, which, proceeding in a
course directly opposite, undertake to mold society into a form
most favorable to the condensation of power and property in
the hands of a few, and- by so doing, gives an artificial direction to the political authority of the state. In the United
States a political aristocracy is unknown; but as the country
has advanced with unexampled rapidity in the acquisition of
wealth, and the diffusion of knowledge,.a civil aristocracy is
everywhere apparent. If there are any causes whic'l condemn
one part of society to great inferiority to another part; if
slothfulness, want of a wholesome ambition, or vicious habits,
make somne men the natural enemies of this admirable state of
things, Providence has very wisely ordered that an antidote
commensurate with the evil should pervade the system: that
the class to whom influence belongs, having themselves sprung
from the people, should know how to temper moderation with
firmness, and not be able to bear down upon any class with
the weight of a titled aristocracy.
The civil aristocracy which I have described, may be said to
consist of the learned professions, of capitalists, whether belonging to the landed, the commercial, or the manufacturing




426              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK III.
classes, and of all those associations whose efforts are directed
to the furtherance of public or private prosperity.
The profession of the law differs from that of medicine in
this particular. Lawyers are called upon to make display of
their knowledge in public, and this circumstance invests them
with a sort of public character. They wear more nearly the
character of a corps, or class. Moreover, their pursuits have
a close affinity with all political questions, which cannot, be
said to be the case with the members of any other learned
profession. The professors of medicine, whose services are
performed in private, and whose position in society is necessarily more isolated, endeavor to make compensation for these
disadvantages, by establishing everywhere colleges and universities, dedicated to instruction in their particular science.
The colleges which were at one time established in England,
for teaching the civil law, and the inns of court in London, a
rival institution for teaching the common law, have nearly
fallen to decay. In the United States, medical colleges are
very numerous, but no college of jurisprudence exists. And
yet the science of law is divided into fully as many distinct
branches as is that of medicine, to each of which a professor
might be assigned, and thus give rise to the establishment of
law as well as of medical colleges. Lawyers, however, seem
to be satisfied with the share of public attention which the
nature of their pursuits attracts to them.
Although the efforts of the clergy are all in public; yet
each minister stands alone in the performance of his duties.
And they seek to relieve themselves from this disadvantage
in two ways: first, by establishing, like physicians, seminaries devoted to teaching their own system of doctrines; and
secondly, by the institution of ecclesiastical assemblies of
various grades, sometimes embracing the whole clergy of one
denomination throughout the country, sometimes the clergy of
one state, and sometimes of districts only, in the same state.
The first, under the names of general conventions, assemblies, or
conferences, transact the business common to all the members
of a denomination throughout the country. The second and
third classes *attend to those matters which concern  the
churches of one state, or of one district. And all contribute
to bind together the members in one league, and to give




CHAP. V.1        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               427
them a just weight and influence with the whole lay population.
The strength of the natural aristocracy of a country depends
upon the worth and intelligence of the members who compose
it. Neither wealth, nor any other adventitious advantage, are
of any moment, unless they tend to the cultivation of these
two master qualities. And it is because the acquisition of
wealth in the United States does actually tend in this direction, that its influence is so beneficial. The civil aristocracy
becomes so numerous and so powerful that it is impossible to
found a legal or political aristocracy. But it has been supposed that the popular sentiment in America is unfriendly to
intellectual distinction. And yet a very fair proportion of
men cf eminent endowments have been elevated to office.
This envy of intellectual distinction which has been ascribed
to the people, if it does exist, indicates at any rate that that
species of distinction is appreciated and coveted by them.
5Men envy in others those qualities which confer respect; and
in so doing give no slight evidence that they are they ar emselves
ambitious of the same distinction. It is the first step in the
intellectual progress of a nation. When the population is an
inert, ignorant mass, it has no envy, because it has no inward
spring of improvement.  Moreover this jealousy of talent,
although it may for a time cast very eminent men into the
shade, is sometimes attended with very great advantages to
themselves. The revolution which brought Mr. Jefferson into
office, found the great body of American lawyers enrolled in
the ranks of the federal party. They were consequently very
generally excluded from office.  This withdrawal from the
noisy field of party politics caused them to devote themselves
more exclusively to their profession, and the consequence was,
that the legal profession attained an unparalleled eminence
during the twenty-five succeeding years. American jurisprudence was built up into a compact and regular science, and
acquired such a commanding influence, that it became a sort
of make-weight in the constitution.
The revolution which lifted General Jackson to office, confounded all the former distinctions of party. Lawyers were
therefore appointed to office, without regard to the particular
party to which they had before belonged. The taste for public




428            NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BooK IIL
life, which has in consequence been imparted to them, has
been in the same proportion injurious to the profession. The
present race of lawyers are not equal to their predecessors.
It must be admitted, however, that this state of things is not
without its advantages also. As lawyers are now very generally introduced into public life, they are less exclusively addicted to the technical forms of their profession; and this
contributes to enlarge and liberalize their understandings.
The great work of forming jurisprudence into a regular and
well-defined system having been accomplished, the community
can afford to let them mingle freely in public transactions, in
order that they may impart the influence of their own habits
of business to other classes; and at the same time, bring
back from those classes some portion of their varied and diversified views.
There are two ways by which mankind have hitherto been
governed: the one by a fixed authority residing in a select
class, the other by sense of common interest among all the
members of the society. In the first, the immagination may
be said to be the ruling principle of government: in the
second, we avail ourselves of the same simple machinery by
which all other human interests are managed; good sense, a
love of justice, the conviction that the interests of the individual are, after all, identified with the public welfare. The
idea with European statesmen is, that a government fashioned
after the first plan will possess a greater degree of impartiality-that it will be more completely freed from the influence of parties. But inasmuch as the structure of society in
modern times is constantly tending to weaken the influence of
imagination upon all the business concerns of society, the
time may very speedily come, when there will be no choice as
to the form of government which shall be adopted.
Nor is it true, that a government which is absolved from a
dependence upon parties, is more impartial on that account.
Parties are simply the representatives of the various interests
of the community, and these interests will never be able to
attain an adequate influence, unless they can make themselves
felt and heard. Doubtless monarchical and aristocratical governments may be very impartial in one respect. They may be
so strong as to turn aside from the claims of all parties. But




CHAiP. v.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                429
as no government which is not founded upon men's interests,
can administer those interests with skill and success; so no
government which is not animated by popular parties, can
ever be made to understand those interests. It is only since
the rise of parties in Great Britain and France, that public
affairs have been conducted with anything like impartiality.




430            NATURE AND TENDENCY                [ BOOK III.
CHAPTERI VI.
THE INSTITUTION OF SLAVERY.
THE institution of slavery has an entirely different character iii the United States, from what it possessed in the ancient
commonwealths.  In these, the servile class occupied very
nearly the same position as the inferior ranks in the modern
European states. They might not only be freed, but they
were afterward capable of rising into the ranks of genuine
freemen. At Rome, after the second generation, their blood
was considered sufficiently pure to gain them admission to the
senate. As slaves were most generally brought from barbarous countries, the restraint imposed before the manurnission
was favorable to the acquisition of habits which would fit
them to be freemen. But before manumission, they filled a
number of civil occupations, which at the present day are assigned exclusively to freemen. Even the professions of physic
and surgery, notwithstanding the doubts suggested by Dr.
Mead, seem at one time to have devolved upon them. Thus
the servile class of antiquity, may be regarded as a component
part of the general population; connected with all other
classes by numerous links, and recruiting the ranks of the last
with citizens of hardy and industrious habits.
This great difference in the relative condition of freemen
and slaves in modern and ancient times, arises from the fact,
that in the last, the two classes were composed of one race;
while in the United States, they belong to distinct races. This
renders the whole question of slavery at the present day difficult in the extreme. The light of the nineteenth century very
naturally stimulates the mind to inquiry, nay, imposes upon it
the duty of  making an examination. And yet, the problem presented for solution —' is it practicable to do away with slavery?"
— is surrounded with difficulties so numerous, and of so grave a




CHAP. VI.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 431
character, as almost to baffle the best directed efforts we can
make.  For how shall we emancipate from civil disabilities two
or three millions of people, without admitting them to the enjoy -
ment of political privileges also? And yet how can this be
done without endangering the existence of the very institutious
which are appealed to as the warrant for creating so great a revolution? In some of the American States, the colored population might constitute a majority of the electors.  Where this
was the case, the plan would simply terminate in raising up a
black republic. For although it should be possible to overcome the prejudice of caste among the whites, yet the still
greater difficulty of overcoming it among -an inferior and unenlightened order of men, remains to be disposed of. The
probability is, that long before the colored population could become educated and informed, if such an event may be deemed
possible, the whole management of public affairs would fall
into their hands; or, by a combination between them and the
worst part of the white populatiou, the political power would
be divided between the two. The extraordinary spectacle
would then be presented, of a, highly enlightened people voluntarily exerting itself to turn the tide of civilization backward;-for assuredly, if the scheme succeded, society would
return to the barbarous condition which it has cost the human
race so many ages of toil and suffering to emerge from. In
Hlayti the whites are a mere handful, and create no jealousy.
In the British West Indies, the property qualification which is
imposed upon voters continues the black race in a state of
political servitude; so that the experiment in neither has produced any result which can shed light upon the most difficult
and perilous part of the undertaking. In the United States,
universal suffrage, or very nearly so, is the rule. It would
then be impossible to make a distinction between the two races,
without running into direct contradiction with the principles
with which we had set out. How could we refuse to impart
the benefit of those institutions, whose existence is the very
thing which has suggested the change. And yet on the other
hand, how could we consent to commit violence upon those
institutions, by placing them in the power of a race who have
no comprehension of their uses.
The earnest and extended inquiry which this great question




432            NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOI III.
has given rise to, cannot fail to be attended with advantage.
If there is any plan by which the institution of slavery can
be gotten rid of, that plan will be suggested through the instrumentality of discussion. If there is no practicable mode
of abolishing it, the freest inquiry will have the effect of confirming the public mind in that conviction. In either case,
the tranquillity and welfare of the state will be better secured,
than where everything is seen through the twilight medium
of doubt and ingnorance. The great advantage of discussion
consists in this: that by engaging a number of minds in the
investigation of a particular subject, that subject is no longer
viewed from one position only. The point of observation is
continually changed, and the conflict of so many opinions,
each of which contains some portion of truth, ultimately
elicits the whole truth. Before the press had roused the human understanding to vigorous and earnest inquiry on all
subjects, society was full of all sorts of exclusive opinions and
exclusive institutions, each of which was pent up in a narrow
circle, and defended from the approach of any improvement.
That was formerly, and to a very great extent is still, the condition of much the greater part of the civilized world. Force,
disguised under one form  or other, was once the principal
means resorted to, to set things to rights. But in America,
the discovery has been made, that the agency which is the
most powerful and most comprehensive in its operation, consists in the moral force of public opinion, which acting incessantly and in every direction, silently introduces changes
which would otherwise have disturbed the whole order of
society.
When the same object is seen under different aspects by
different minds, the most partial views are acquired in the
first instance.  Nevertheless each one, uninstructed in the
process by which opinions are gradually matured, is vehement
in the promulgation of his peculiar dogmas; not because they
are true, but because they are his. This is the danger which
society runs, in that intermediate period when opinions are
yet in a state of fermentation, and before time and reflection
have been afforded, to separate what is true from what is erroneous. This danger is diminished, instead of being increased,
in proportion as the spirit of inquiry becomes more free and




CHAP. VI.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 433
independent. For then, to say the least, the shades of opinion are so infinitely varied, that the advocates of one and the
same plan are frequently obliged to pause, in order to come to,
an understanding and compromise aumong themselves.  Halfformed and sectarian opinions are very apt to produce sinister
feelings and designs.  This diminishes their influane  still
more, and prevents their acquiring an exclusive authority in
the community. In the non-slaveholding states of America,
the population is universally opposed to slavery.  Public
opinion, however, is so justly tempered, that the party which
desires to carry out the extreme measures of the abolitionists
constitutes a small minority. But opinions which are even
tinctured with sinister views, ought never to be disregardegd
on that account. Our enemies always tell us more truth than,
our friends; and they are, therefore, frequently the best counw
sellers we can have.
There is another danger to which society is exposed. In
times when schemes of public improvement are agitated, the
spirit of philanthropy is sure to be awakened. This is more
particularly the case, where these schemes are intended to
affect private manners. But a well-informed understanding
is as essential to the execution of any scheme of philanthropy,
as is a benevolent disposition. The two, put together, miake
up the only just and true idea of philanthropy. Not only a
correct discrimination between the possible and the imptossible, but a wise and cautious adaptation of means to ernd, in
everything which is practicable, are necessary to insure suecess.  Without an enlightened understanding, there is no
governing principle to guide; and without benevolence, there
is no motive power to give vigor and effect to our actions.,
Hence, when these two qualities, each exerting a prime agency
in the constitution of man, are dissociated, or not pioperly1
balanced, all our efforts become abortive or misehii.-vous..
They become so, simply because we have not acted up to the
genuine notion of philanthropy.
In a country where free institutions are established, and
unlimited freedom  of discussion exists, this danger is increased, since every one then persuades himself that be is in
duty bound to give utterance to his opinions, and thfat if these,
opinions are only conceived in a- spirit of benevolence, they)
28




434             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [1300K III.
must necessarily be entitled to command: thus reversing the
whole order of our nature, and making the feelings an informing principle to the understanding, instead of the understanding acting as a regulative principle to the feelings.
On the other hand, this danger is greatly countervailed by
the very causes which -give occasion to it. An unbounded
freedomn of thought and inquiry being exercised by all, those
who hold contrary opinions are equally earnest in the promulgation of them. And even if the views on either side are
pushed to an extreme, as they probably will be, the incessant
disputation which takes place gradually wears out and exhausts the feelings, and enables the understanding to take.clearer and more comprehensive views of the whole field of
inquiry.
There are three errors to which philanthropists (those of the,unphilanthropic are without number) are chiefly exposed:
First. By fastening attention upon some one defect in the:social organization. and giving it an undue importanee, they,weaken the sentiment of disapprobation with which other de'fects, equally glaring and mischievous, should be regarded.
This forms no part of their design, but it is the inevitable
consequence of the course they are driven to pursue. Great
multitudes of persons, who are entirely free from the stain
which is endeavored to be wiped out, but who are overrun by
other vices or infirmities equally offensive to genuine morality,
join the association of philanthropists. They do so because
this presents one common ground, upon which people of the
most contradictory opinions and habits in other matters may
meet; and because, by combining with the philanthropic, in a
philanthropic design, they withdraw public attention from
theirown defects, nay, they even seem to make amends for
them, and to purchase the privilege of persevering in them,
by lending their efforts to a single undertaking, whose avowed
object is to ameliorate the condition of mankind. Hence, the
extraordinary spectacle which is frequently presented, that a
party dedicated to a benevolent purpose is, notwithstanding,
crowded by persons whose designs are the most sinister inmaginable, and whose feelings are nothing but gall and bitterness.
Second. There is another mistake into which philanthropists
are apt to fall. In every society which has attained a high




CIHAP. VI]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                435
civilization, there are always numbers of persons who, from a
variety of causes too indefinite to be described, are discontented with the social organization amid which they reside.
No matter whether this proceeds from temperament, or ill-fortune of one kind or another, from disappointed ambition in
any favorite end, whether in the walks of public or private
life, or from being placed in a false position to the rest of
society, the fact is so, and it exercises a deep influence upon
human actions. Such persons seek to admiriister opiates to
their troubled feelings, by brooding over the infirmities and
binding up the wounds of others. The sombre and melancholy interest which pervades all their actions, impresses
them with a character of earnestness and sincerity which irresistibly commands respect. The opinions of this class of persons are never to be shunned; for as human nature is constituted it seems impossible to sympathize with the sufferings of
others unless we have been made to suffer much ourselves.
We should avail ourselves of the feeling, but join to it an enlightened understanding, that so we may be more intent on
relieving the infirmities of others than of curing our own.
The present has been correctly termed the age of electicismn
in mental philosophy. It is so in every department of thought.
The tendency, in everything connected with the knowledge or
the interests of man, is to draw light from every quarter; not
to consider different opinions on the same subject, as forming
distinct systems; but rather, as all conspiring to form one
consistent and comprehensive scheme of thought.'Third. There is frequently among philanthropists a want
of tact in distinguishing between the practicable and the impracticable. This causes the path they would follow to be
strewed with numerous difficulties and temptations. I do not
use the word " tact," in its vulgar signification, as importing
mere adroitness, or empirical dexterity; but as simply denoting an ability to make application of our theories to the practical affairs of men. In this sense, it may be said to be the
consummation of all our knowledge. But it implies a wide
observation, and a profound acquaintance with the history
and constitution of man. It is well when actions which abstractedly have a character of benevolence, have in practice
an opposite tendency to describe them as they are; and it is




436             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK III.
equally proper, when words which exercise such dominion
over one-half of mankind have usurped a foreign or ambiguous meaning, that we should call them back to their appropriate signification.
The man of the highest faculties, and who devotes them exelusively to improve the condition of his species, on being
placed in society, immediately finds himself pressed with this
difficulty. On the one hand there is a rule of right which, in
consequence of' its being a rule, is in theory conceivable of
universal application. On the other hand stands the fact,
that in spite of all the efforts of the individuals who have preceded him, a vast amount of poverty, suffering and vice exists
everywhere. As the causes which produced this state of things
were beyond his control, so no remedies which he will apply
can have more than a partial application. Is he to stop short,
to abate his exertions? Not at all. There is a wall of adamant somewhere, over which he cannot leap, and which yet
he is unable to discern. He should, therefore, endeavor to
make constant approaches to it, as if it were nowhere; but at
the same time, never to part with the conviction that it does
actually exist. This will not diminish the force of his exertions, since within the bounds of the practicable there is more
than enough to give employment to the most active benevolence. But it will render those exertions more enlightenet,
and therefore more efficacious. There is another thing which
he may do, and one which is neglected above all others. He
may in his own person afford an example, that the rule of
right, not in one particular only, but in all, is carried to the
furthest extent of which it is capable. It is because we fail
to do this, that all our efforts to improve the manners of
others fall entirely short of the mark. -Nor can I conceive
anything better calculated to exercise a powerful influence
upon the actions of other men, than a genuine example of
purity of life, if it were to be found, even though it should
never assume to intermeddle with the conduct of others.
These three circumstances contribute to corrupt the manners, by rendering some abuses more prominent than others,
which are equally or more deserving of animadversion; and
by investing the last, and the men who practice them, with
an air of authority which no ways belong to them. 2d. The




CHAP. Vi.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               437
moral sense is perverted, by making our own uneasiness and
discontent the prime mover of our actions. For then it only
depends upon accidental circumstances, whether the individual shall plunge into dissipation, become the victim of
misguided ambition, enlist in the ranks of the soldiery, and
throw himself into an association, the novelty of whose enterprises will create strong sensation, and prevent the mind from
preying upon itself.  3d. The judgment is obscured by a
failure to know and to appreciate the very thing which a being of limited capacities is bound to be acquainted with; the
extent to which he may carry his exertions, and consequently
the means which should be employed for that purpose. So
that they who undertake to instruct and improve mankilid,
and who suppose that the very nature of their vocation places
them beyond the reach of public opinion, very frequently findal
that they are equally obnoxious to it, and that they themselves stand greatly in need of instruction and improvement.
The term slavery has sometimes an odious meaning attached
to it; and yet it deserves very grave consideration, whether
the distinction between' what we call slavery anud some other
forms of servitude is not for the most part an artificial one.
The former denotes in its highest degree the relation which
exists between master and servant, or employer and employed.
The immature faculties of children give rise to a similar relation. The disabilities of both a moral and physical character,
under which menial servants and the great body of operatives
in every civilized country labor, give rise to the same connection. What avails it to call these by the name of free, if the
abject and straightened condition in which they are placed
so benumbs their understanding as to give them little more
latitude of action than the slave proper. In an investigation
of so much importance, it is the thing, not the name, we are
in search of. It is true, it would be infinitely desirable, to
cure all these inequalities in a society where servitude does
not ostensibly exist, as well as in one where it is openly recognized. But in order to do this, we must be able to regulate
invariably the proportion between capital and labor, which
would imply on the part of the legislator a complete control
over the laws which govern the increase of population. Nor
is it certain then that we should be able to succeed; since




438             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK III.
there are so many inequalities in the faculties, disposition and
temperament of individuals, as to give rise to every conceivable diversity of sagacity and exertion, from the feeblest up to
the most strenuous and energetic.
It is vain to say, that what is termed the institution of
slavery contradicts the whole order of Providence; for society
every where exibits the most enormous disparities in the condition of individuals. Nor is it possible to conquer these disparities unless we abjure civilization and return to a state of
barbarism.
That one race of men should be inferior to another, is no
more inconsistent with the wisdom of Providence, than that
great multitudes of the. same race should labor under the
greatest inferiority and disadvantages, in comparison with
their fellows. WVe know not why it is, that so many wear out
life in anguish and sickness, nor why a still greater number
are cut off in the blossom of youth. We are only permitted
to coDjecture, that if it were not for these inequalities, the little virtue which has place in the world would cease to exist
anywhere.
The institution of slavery, when it is imposed upon the
African race, may simply import, that inasmuch as the period
of infancy and youth is in their case protracted through the
whole of life, it may be eminently advantageous to them, if a
guardianship is created to watch over and take care of them.
Amiable and excellent individuals have descanted upon the
ill treatment and severity of masters. But no one has been
bold enough to rise up and tell us all he knows. Domestic
society in all its relations, if its secrets were not happily concealed from public observation, would as often exhibit mischiefs
of the same character. Perhaps it may be asserted that every
new country has to a great extent been peopled by young persons who at home were surnounded by influences of one kind
or another with which they were not satisfied. There is
always a limit at which the most downright and headlong
philanthropy is fain to halt, and that stopping place is the inmost chamber of domestic life; although there it is that the
foundation of all the virtues and vices of our race is laid. It
would not do to lift the veil here, else it might show us how
little genuine virtue exists; and thus cast a blight over the




CIIAP. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 439
exertions of philanthropists, as well as take away from  the
authority with which they speak. It is painful to think, that
a great part of mankind are driven to talk much of the defects of others, in order to convey an impression that they are
free from any themselves.
It must never be forgotten, that no institution can stand
up amid the light of the nineteenth century, without partaking greatly of its influence. As the species of servitude which
formerly existed in all European states has been wonderfully
modified in some, by the surrounding institutions and the
general amelioration of the manners, the system  of slavery
which prevails in the southern states of the American Union
has received a still more decided impression'from the salme
quarter. In the eastern division of Europe, where money rents
are unknowrn, where even the metayer plan of'cultivation had
not been introduced, but the system of serf labor is almost
exclusively established, the treatment which the laborers receive is not near so humane as that of the American slaves.
In Austria, the " Urbarium of Maria Theresa " still continues
to be the " magna charta s" of the peasantry. Nevertheless the
absolute authority which landed proprietors exercised over
them  has been very imperfectly removed. In 1791 the peasantry of Poland succeeded in obtaining a new charter of liberties. But it was only in name, and their condition has not
materially improved  During the last half century, laws, customas, and manners have undergone a great change. But this
change is nowhere so perceptible as in the United States. It
is not surprising, therefore, that intelligent foreigners should
have been so struck with the fact, that the condition of slaves
in America is altogether more eligible than that of free laborers,
even in the western division of Europe. It is impossible to
communicate an impulse to the institutions of society in one
part, without causing it to be felt in every part. And for a
very obvious reason, that every species of moral influence acts
upon an institution, not as a dry system, but goes to the bottom, and affects the manners and dispositions of the beings
who set it in motion.
Thus the institution of slavery, growing up with the manners' and partaking of the spirit which animates free institu.
t ions, may be gradually so molded as to acquire a still more




440              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [ BOOKI II.
favorable character. It may become in effect a mere branch
of the domestic economy of the household, differing from others
in no one respect, except the nature of the occupations to which
it is devoted. In the IRoman commonwealth the treatment of
slaves was cruel in the extreme. Branding, the torture, slitting the ears and noses, and crucifixion, were employed for the
most trivital offences. It has been reserved for the people who
first established free institutions, to introduce also the only
humane system of slavery which has ever existed.
M. Sismondi, in his History of the Italian IRepublics (v. 7, p.
68, h.), remarks that it was not due to christianity to have
abolished slavery. And he mentions several instances (v. 8,
pp. 160, 226 and 157) where the captives taken in the wars of
those republics were indiscriminately reduced to slavery. Andl
this as late as the commencement of the sixteenth century.
But in the last passage he qualifies the remark by saying:
"That it is not to the Roman church that we should accord
this high praise."  For christianity is the parent of philanthropy, and the parent of those institutions which in America
have abolished the barbarous system of slavery once in vogue,
and reared up an institution differing from it to precisely the
saime degree, that the political institutions differ from those of
the European commonwealths.
The influence of race is a subject which has recently engaged
the attention of philosophical inqutirers. It may be that the light
which has been shed upon it is still too imperfect to enable us
to solve all the difficulties which meet us.  But it would be a
great mistake to suppose that the inquiry is in. no way connected with the question of slavery in the United States. On
the contrary, it is the single circumstance which renders the
inquiry difficult in the extreme, both as regards master and
slave. Philanthropists, in treating the subject, desire to deal
in the most abstract propositions imaginable; but it is of infinite importance to make application of these principles, in
order to ascertain whether they are not limited, and qualified
by an extensive range of experience and observation. It is
certainly very remarkable, that Europe is the only one of the
four continents which has been thoroughly civilized. And
Europe is the only one which is exclusively inhabited by the
Caucasian, or white race.  It is equally remarkable, that




CUAPr.. VI.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               441
throughout Africa no trace has ever been discovered of civilization, except where the white race has penetrated. The
ancient commonwealths of Egypt, Cyrene, and Carthage, were
not, as some people suppose, composed of Ethiopians. They
were all three settlements from Arabia, Ionia, or Phenicia.
The black race do not appear to have possessed even the
faculty of imitating, so as to build up any institutions resembling those which were transported to their soil. This race
still continues wrapped up in that immovable state of barbarismn and inertia which existed four thousand years ago. Denmark, Germany, France, and England, were inhabited by
barbarians only two thousand years since; and yet, through
the instrumentality of causes which have acted upon Africa,
as well as upon Europe, the latter has been reclaimed, and the
fabric of civilization which it has built up exceeds in beauty
and variety the model from which it was taken. According
to all the laws which have hitherto governed the progress of
civilization, Africa should have been civilized as early as
Europe. We can give no further account why it has not
been, than that there is an inherent and indelible distinction
between the two races, which retains one closely within a certain limit, and permits the other to spring far beyond it. To
deny the distinction is not a mark of philanthropy, but rather
a defiance of those laws which have been imposed by the Deity,
and which are no more inconsistent with his benevolence, than
innumerable physical and mental differences which exist among
individuals of the same race.
The revolution in Hayti dates back half a century: a period
of sufficient duration to ascertain something of the capabilities
of the negro race. Two generations of freemen have come
upon the stage in that time. But we can no where discern
any distinct trace of European civilization. The inert and
sluggish propensities of this people have already created habits
which preclude all hope of any substantial advancement. If
they had found the Island a wilderness, it would now be covered with wigwams. Instead of the strenuous industry which
carries the white man forward in the march of improvement,
and makes him clear up the forest with as much alacrity as if
he were subduing an empire, the negro is satisfied if he can
appropriate one or two acres of land. All he cares for, is to




442              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK III.
obtain just enough to satisfy the wants of animal life. He has
the name of freeman only: for liberty is of no account, unless
it absolves us from the yoke of our own propensities and vices,
which are far more galling and degrading than any physical
disabilities whatever.
I differ with those \who suppose that the worst effects of
emancipation will be disclosed immediately. On the contrary,
I believe that they will be developed very gradually, and that
the impediments to the introduction of order and industry
among the blacks will become more instead of less formidable,
with the progress of time. On the establishment of the new
system, in the British West Indies, the novelty of the situation
in which the blacks fobund themselves placed, infused for a time
an unwonted ardor and alacrity into their exertions. But this
soon died away. They have fallen back into their natural
apathy. It is impossible to induce a race to make strenuous
exertions to better their condition, when they are satisfied with
a mere garden patch to sustain animal life. In the small
islands of Barbadoes and Antigua, where there is hardly a
foot of uncultivated land, they have been obliged to labor.
But in Jamaica, where a great proportion of the soil is still
unncleared, and where consequently it has been an easy matter
for the negroes to obtain one or two acres apiece, they manifest
the same disposition as in Hayti, to squat themselves down,
and to drag out a mere animal existence. It is no wonder,
therefore, that the plan of importing laborers from abroad was
at one time seriously agitated in Great Britain, nay, carried
into effect; nor that after being abandoned it should again be
revived at the present moment. The experiment so far has
been anything but successful. It seems to be impossible to
train this emasculated race to the hardy and vigorous industry
of the white man. To have made slaves of them originally,
was a deep injustice. To introduce them into the society of
whites, and to leave them to contend with beings so greatly
their superiors, is a still more flagrant injustice. Even if there
were not an incontestible distinction between the two races,
still if there is a total defect of sympathy, arising from causes
which it is impossible to remove, all efforts to melt them into
one people must fail. The statesman is bound to take notice
of all those secondary principles which are planted in our




cHAP. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                443
nature, and which exercise so wide and permanent an influence upon human conduct. He must make allowance for them,
as the mechanic does for the operation of friction. If he fixed
his attention exclusively upon certain primary laws, which do
indeed lie at the foundation of human society, but which are
so greatly modified in their operation, he runs the risk of losing
every advantage which may be derived from either the one or
the other. No one supposes that the prejudice of kindred can
be conquered, or if it were possible, that it would conduce to
the welfare of society. They constitute an important part of
our structure, and are no more to be disregarded than are those
general principles which rule over extensive associations of
men. Yet the affections of kindred confine our attention and
views within a very narrow circle, and consequently modify
all our conduct beyond that circle. The same analogy is visible throughout the whole economy of human nature. It is
therefore the part of sound wisdom to gather up all these inequalities, and to assign to each its appropriate place.
The philanthropic association which planned the colony at
Liberia, were fully aware of the truth of these principles.
They, therefore, made it a fundamental regulation that white
people should not be permitted to settle there. One can easily
conceive that immense advantage might be derived from the
presence and influence of the white race. But this is only on
the supposition that the influence would be of the most unexceptionable character. And as it is not allowable to make
this supposition, wise and discerning men have determined to
effect a complete separation of the two races. The settlement
at Liberia is one of the most remarkable schemes in which
human enterprise has engaged; even in an age distinguished
above all others for noble and generous undertakings. But
the philanthropy which planned it was obliged to take into
consideration the distinction of race, as constituting one of
those secondary principles of our nature which influence human
conduct in spite of all that we can do.
We may say that a difference of color, and of physical organization, are to be regarded as accidental circumstances
only. But accidental circumstances exercise a very wide influence upon the actions of men. The particular period when
we were born, the institutions under which we live, the coun



444             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOKI III.
try which bounds our views and engages our patriotism, were
all of them accidental circumstances, originally. But as soon
as they exist, they cease to be accidents, or subject to our will.
We'may have been born at another period of the world, or in
another country; have been nurtured under totally different
institutions, when our habits, our character, and our whole
scheme of thought would have taken a different direction. If
in all those particulars, our lot has been most fortunate, let us
use our privileges discreetly, and not trample under foot the
blessings we enjoy, because we cannot mend the works of the
Deity, according to our own crude conceptions.
As the distinction of color is not at all dependent upon climate, there is every reason to believe that a meaning was intended to be attached to it. Doubtless, it was intended to
signify that there is a difference in the intellectual structure of
the two races; and that it is the part of true wisdom, therefore, to 1teep them apart. The physical make and constitution
of individuals of the same race are frequently of so great consequence as to give a coloring to the whole of life, and to
stamp an impression upon their conduct in spite of themselves.
There is one class of philanthropists who would have us
consider men as merely disembodied spirits, and as entirely
freed from the incumbrance of matter; —a generous error, if
the narrow and one-sided views in which it originates did not
lead to consequences of an entirely opposite tendency, and
afford a striking example of the untiring operation of the
lower part of our nature, upon those who fancy they are the
most completely lifted above it. We are never more in danger of sensualizing our whole being, than when we believe we
have attained the highest degree of illumination. The founder
of the Moravian sect wished to introduce some of the obscene
rites which are practised in the Brahminical religion of Hindostan. The quakers of New England, at an early period,
entered the places of public worship and danced stark naked.
It is -but the other day, that an association of perfectionists
was announced in the city of New York, which proclaimed
the right and duty to practise promiscuous concubinage. It
requires but one step of false and detestable reasoning, to
stride over the gulf which separates virtue from vice. If we




CHAP. vI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                445
have attained perfection, there is no way of manifesting it so
decisive, as to practise all the things which are denominated
vices, in order to prove that we are incapable of contamination from them.
It has been predicted that when the population of the southern states of the American Union has attained a certain degree of density, slavery will disappear. It is remarkable,
however, that the existence of the institution has nowhere
hitherto depended upon the greater or less compactness of the
population. It existed in the holy land, in India, and in Italy,
for centuries after the population had reached its maximum.
And on the other hand it disappeared from the northern states
of America, and from most of the European communities,
while the population was very thin. In England, the final
blow which was given to the institution may be said to have
been in the reign of Charles II, when the population of the
whole island was not greater than that of the two states of
New York and Ohio, at the present time.
There is one circumstance, however, which at this period is
calculated to have great influence upon the existence of the
institution. The present is beyond all comparison the most
commercial age which has been known. Nations do not live
within themselves as formerly. Each is striving to produce
as large an amount of surplus commodities as possible, in order to exchange them for the superfluity of other nations.
And as there is no doubt but what the labor of the freeman
is, as a general rule, more efficient than that of the slave, a
nation which employs slave labor, will labor under great disadvantages when it goes into the market of the world, and
finds that the price of every species of produce, which is not
a monopoly one, is regulated by the supply of those nations
which obtain it at the least cost. The nation which employs
the cheapest labor will command the market. It may be true,
therefore, as applicable to the present state of the world, that
when the population of the southern states of America has
acquired a certain density, the labor of slaves will be less
profitable than that of freemen. And when this is the case it
would seem, still proceeding upon general principles, that the
slaveholders will be the persons chiefly instrumental in effecting the abolition of the institution.




44:6             NATURE AND TENDENCY             rBOOK II.
But lest we should proceed too fast, there are here a good
many things which must be taken into consideration. When
we talk of the density of the population in a region where
slaves already constitute a great proportion of the laborers,
we must mean a density occasioned by the multiplication of
the whole people, and not merely of the freemen. Our calculations, therefore must be founded upon the supposition that
the community will be able to avail itself of the labor of those
who have been emancipated, to the same extent as before, and
with the additional advantage of -finding their exertions more
strenuous and effective than ever. This at once lays open the
source of all the difficulties which attend the abolition of
slavery in the United States. For is it quite certain that the
labor of the free black will be more, or even as productive as
the black when a slave? I imagine that the reverse is the
case: and that although the labor of the white man, when free,
is altogether more efficient than when he is a slave, precisely
the contrary is the case with the negro. None of these difficulties attended the abolition of slavery in Europe. Freemen
and slaves were of the same race.: and the last, after they were
emancipated, slid by an easy process into the position of the
first. Maryland and Kentucky may abolish slavery, but the
effect will be not so much to get rid of slavery as to get rid of
the African race altogether. Persons born after a certain
period will be declared free, and in the intermediate period,
the slaves who might give birth to this race of freemen, will be
disposed of in the southern market. The number of slaves in
New York, at the first census of the United States, was more
than twenty-one thousand. The number of colored persons
in the state should now be somewhere about eighty thousand,
if the increase was only equal to that of the slaves: and this
independently of the great number of colored freemen and
fugitives from labor, who have gone from the southern states.
The aggregate number of colored freemen should have been
greatly above one hundred thousand. But the census of 1840
makes it fifty-thousand and twenty-seven. Either a great part
of the original stock of slaves have been sold, or the free institutions of the United States are singularly unfavorably to
the growth and prosperity of this portion of the population.
The efforts which any class of men will put forth for the




CIIP. Vi.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                447
purpose of bettering their condition, will be in proportion to
their own ideas of the standard of comfort, not to the notions
which other people have formed of it. If the man is endowed
with strong moral energy, his exertions will be vigorous. The
circle of his hopes and desires will be enlarged. It requires
but little food and raiment to satisfy our mere animal wants,
and little toil, therefore, if these are all which bound our exertions. It is the disposition to go beyond this limit, the desire to acquire the faculty of enjoyment, and not merely some
of the things which administer to enjoyment in its lowest form,
that has given occasion to that immense mass of industry
which is now wielded, and which has covered Europe and
North America with thriving and powerful communities.
Now, if we suppose that the Aiierican negroes, on being
emancipated, will fall into the inert and sluggish habits which
characterize their race throughout Africa, in Jamaica, in
Hayti; that they will be content with a few acres of ground,
upon which to seat themselves, and to vegetate in a condition
little above that of the brutes, we cannot make the same calculations as if the country were peopled by the white race alone.
The population may be numerically dense, and yet in reality
thin. And I do not see how it is possible to avoid making
the supposition. All history bears witness to the existence in
the Ethiopian of a character totally dissimilar to that of the
white man. And the former, equally with the last, is thoroughly convinced of the fact. "Black man is nothing by the
side of white man," was the exclamation, says Mr. Park, of
the negroes, on witnessing some very indifferent exhibitions
of skill at Pisania.
This then is the great difficulty which is to be encountered
in the United States. There is no doubt, but what the labor
of the white man, when free, is more productive than if he
were a slave, and this whether the population is dense or thin.
But the reverse is the case with the negro. His services, when
placed under the controlling guidance of the white man, may
be rendered very valuable, but when left to himself he invariably falls into habits totally incompatible with strenuous and
vigorous exertion. I remember a few years ago remarking to
an intelligent individual, who was active in promoting the formation of a Fourier association, that the great objection to the




448             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK III.
plan of a system of common labor and property was that, it
destroyed the incentives to exertion. His reply was a sensible
one. He said he did not suppose it would answer as a general
rule for society, but that from long observation he had become
acquainted with a fact, perhaps new, but one of great interest
and importance in the history of the individual: that there
are always a number of persons scattered through the community, who, from causes difficult to discern or explain, felt
themselves to be too feeble and inert to take the management
of any business into their own hands, and more particularly
their own business; that such persons would show themselves
alert and active in attending to the affairs of others, but lost
their self-command, and labored under a confusion of judgment, as soon as they set about managing their own. He
maintained that it was to relieve this class of persons from the
weight which constantly hung over them, and which cast ~a
blight over all their exertions, that such associations were
formed: that they constituted the exception, not the rule for
society. And is it at all incredible, or inconsistent with the
benevolence of the Deity, that qualities which are inherent in
numbers of individuals of our own race, should belong to an
entire race. Are the members of Fourier associations withdrawn from the pale of humanity on that account? No more
than is the African race.
There is nothing which the human mind so much delights
in as to generalize its ideas. The faculty of doing so is the
highest which belongs to man. To be able to deduce a great
truth from a given number of facts, is alike flittering to human ambition, and serviceable to the cause of general knowledge. But at the same time that the legitimate exercise of
this faculty is of great advantage, the unskillful and imperfeet use of it is often of exceeding detriment both to morals
and knowledge. To fasten upon a few isolated facts, or upon
facts ever so numerous, and to bind them together in the same
class with other facts to which they bear some resemblance,
but from  which they disagree substantially, is not in any
degree to subserve the cause of knowledge; and if our efforts
are designed to have an application to the practical affairs of
men, they denote something worse than an error of judgment.
They are noxious and mischievous inl the extreme. But it is.




CHAP. vI.3        OF FREE INSTiTUTIONS,               449
this extreme fondness for constructing general propositions,
this worship of abstract ideas, if I may so express myself,
which constitutes the besetting sin of very many of the associations which have sprung up recently. Because some people are exceedingly good and benevolent, perfectibility is possible. Because some men are not so active and energetic,
when working alone as when united into an association, all
men should be herded together in associations. Because the
white and the black man have one generic name, from that
name are deduced the most absolute and sweeping propositionl;.
But in the event of the whites multiplying to such an extent as to fill up all the occupations of society, to become the
sole operatives and agricultural laborers everywhere, what
will be the condition of the blacks? They would be gradually
deprived of their little possessions, which would become more
*nd more valuable with the increasing density of the population. The whites would have the means to purchase them,
and the blacks would be -unable to resist the temptation to
sell. Or if we suppose that a considerable number continued
in the employments in which they were engaged before their
emancipation, what still are their prospects?  The accounts
which we have of the abject condition of the lower classes in
Europe, are enough to sicken the heart, and almost to cause
minds which are not' powerfully fortified by reflection', to
despair of the cause of humanity. A vigorous writer, in the
Boston Quarterly Review for 1840, on surveying the deplorable condition to which the white labor is doomed by the operation of the inexorable laws of population, concludes that it is
idle to talk of the evils of slavery, when American slaves are
placed in a far more eligible condition than any class of European laborers; that there are certain mischiefs in the social
organization of every free community as now constituted, and
that it is incumbent upon all enlightened men and lovers of
humanity to probe the mischief to the root. And he proposes,
that the property of all deceased persons should fall to the
state to be distributed among the population. The views
which this writer took of the condition of the lower classes
was, for the most part, correct; but the remedy he proposes
would be utterly powerless. If, however, there is among all
29




450               NATITRE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK III.
intelligent observers, such an unanimous opinion as to the
abject condition of the white laborer, when the population
has attained a certain density, what must be the condition of
t}he African, when he is placed in close and death-like encounter with beings so greatly his superior? "  If that period were
suddenly to come Un)on us now, the most extraordinary revolution would take place in the opinions of philanthropists.
They would take ground precisely opposite to that which they
now occupy. They would cry out against the cruelty and
injustice which would be done to the blacks by emancipating
thelm; they would, if true to their principles, inculcate the
duty of mlaintainling a guardianship, the yoke of which would
thenl be so easy and so desirable to bear.
The probability is, that the same fate which has overtaken
the Indian race would be that of the negroes. The process of
extinction would be more gradual; but it would be sure. The
Ethiiopian disappeared before the imarch of civilization in
E!gypt, Cyrene, and Carthage. ALnd the more thorough civilization of the United States would assuredly bring about
the same result.
It is evident, then, that difficulties of the greatest magnitude surround this question. Now, there are few obstacles
which a powerful and enlightened people cannot overcome, if
it can be made to see them clearly. But long familiarity with
the in titution of slavery, is apt to beget partial and indistinct views among slaveholders, as well as among abolitionists. I do not suppose there is any danger that the blacks
will ever gain the ascendency. They never succeded in expelling the whites who founded so many commonwealths on
the Barbary coast. On the contrary, they were themselves
driven to the wall. And what has been the fortune of cornmunities founded by an Asiatic race, will be the for-tune of
those which have been founded by the Anglo-Norma-n race in
the United States. Insurrections would take place among the
liberated blacks. And they would be quelled. But humanity
recoils from contemplating the stern and inexorable justice,
which would have to be dealt out in so terrible an emergency.
In France the competition of the industrious classes is now so fearfully
stringent that Victor Considerant delares that the language of each to'the other is, "your life is my death, anld mry life is your death."-Destinee
Sociale.




CHIP. VI.          OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                451
Two alternatives seem to present themselves: to transport
the African race bodily to some other countwy, or to retain
them in their present condition. The first would be literally a
gigantic undertaking; or rather, we may regard it as an
impracticable one. Independently of the violent shock given 
to every species of industry, by the sudden withdrawal of
such a nmultitude of laborers, the expense would surpass the
resources of the slave states, even if those resources wvere unaffected )by the deduction of such an immense mnss of labor
froml.the soil. The mere cost of removal would completely
exhasust them. To transport a number sufficient to keep cdown.
the annual increase, and to continue this plan until the country were emptied, would be beyond the ability of the southern
states.  The Moors of Spain, and the Huguenots of Franc(;e
were expelled, not removed. And the expulsion in neither
instance was anything like complete. The Moors and Huguenots had effects to take with them, to enable them to begin
life again. The first had a kindred race on the neighboring
shores of the Mediterranean, who were glad to receive them.
The second were welcomed in every protestant community
throughout the globe.  The state incurred no expense. It
lost a body of valuable citizens; but the laws of population
soon filled up the void.'These cases diSfer widely fromr the
present. JNiot that the analogy fails in every particular, but
that when we sum up the difficulties on both sides, they are
incomparably greater in one case than in the other.
If then it is impossible to melt the two races into one; if to
transport one of them  is impracticable, and to emancipate it
would be an act of injustice and inhumanity, there is but one
alternative: to. retain the institution of slavery.  We are
itever masters of the circumstances under which +we were
born. We may desire a change in every one of them. But
the wise and inscrutable decrees of Providence have ordered
otherwist, and we can in no way fall in with its designs so
completely, as by accommodating  ourselves to difficulties
which cannot be surmounted; in other words, by acting up to
the rule of right, in every situation in which we may be
placed, and this not merely where our duties are plain, butwhere they lead us over a dark and difficult way. To attempt
to beat down an institution, because we were not consulted as




452              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK III.
to its establishment, is to arrogate an authority which does not
belong to us. But we may convert that institution into an
instrument of good. WVe may apply to it the same rules of
justice and humanity which are applicable to every other part
of the economy of society.
The men of the south find themselves born under an institution which they had no hand in creating —which their
fathers did not assist in building up, but vehemently protested
against when it was introduced by the mother country. Their
course is plain. If it cannot be removed, to employ the same
judgment and discretion in the management of it, as are due
to every other institution which is placed beyond their control. The relation of parent and child is the most extensive
and imnortant which exists. The relation is different in degree, but not in kind, from that of master and slave. Parents,
by harshness and severity, may, and probably in great numbers of instances actually do, cause the fairest and gentlest,virtues to wither in the blossom, when, by tender and judi-,cious treatment, they may have reared men and women, who
would have been ornaments to society. And although all our,exertions to produce a different conduct may be of no avail,
although we may not even have the right to intermeddle with
the private relations of others, yet the duty of parents to act
otherwise, stands as firm and unalterable as ever, and this notwithstanding the innumerable crosses to which they are subject in the management of their household.  Precisely the
same is the case with the master. Great numbers of parents,
in all parts of the world, are compelled to make use of the
labor of their children, in tillage, in manufactures, in every
species of employment. A very large proportion, in densely
peopled countries, to actually task them to occupations, the
recital of which makes us shudder. And if this be an evil
inseparable from the density of the population, so that all
efforts to extirpate it will be ineffectual, it affords another exaample of those uncontrollable circumstances under which we
were involuntarily born,; but one which' far surpasses in magnitude the institution of slavery as it has hitherto existed in,the United States.




CHAP. vII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                   453
CHAPTER VII.
THE JUDICIAL POWER.
MONTESQUIEU has said, that the judiciary is tble weakest of
the three departments of the government.  There are few
general nmaxims which do not admit of some limitation-there
is hardly one which does not demand this limitation in order
to be true. The observation of Montesquieu is perfectly correct, in reference to some particular forms of government.  In
hereditary monarchy, where the executive is a self-existing
authority, from which all ap)pointments flow; in an aristocracy, where the legislative and executive authority is condensed in a body of nobles, the judicial power is necessarily
feeble. But in a democratic republic, where the legislative
and executive powder is strictly bounded on all sides, the judicial may become a very imposing department. Its relative if
not its absolute strength is then increased, for while the other
two departments have been deprived of some of their most
important attributes, the judicial power retains very nearly
the same position anid character whichl it before held. It even
seems to possess a disproportionate share of importancee, -which
is probably the reason why some of the state constitutions of
America have substituted the tenure of a term of years, in the
place of a tenure for life. By so doing, the great principle of
responsibility is applied to all the departments indiscriminately.
As the power of impeaching the chief magistrate, and of p)uln
ishing iln some way equally effectual the various admiDistrative officers of the government, is not deemed a sufficient reason why they should hold their places for life, it has not been
deemed sufficient with regard to the judges.
The judiciary does not deal so directly nor so frequently
with political questions, as do the other departments.  But it
does sometimes deal with them, and that too definitely; in adlition to which, it extends its authority over a vast multitude
of private transactions, many of which receive a hue, more or




454              NA'TURE AND TENDENCY              [I30oo. IIr.
less distinct., from the political disputes of the day. If then
the judges are appointed for life, they may have the ability to
act upon society, both inwardly,ind outwardly, to a greater
degree than the other departments. For when we talk. of political authority, we must distinguish between the abstract
power which belongs to the body, and the active authority
which may be wielded by the members. If, for instance, the
deputies to the legislature are never the saine for any two successive years, while the judges are elected for life; then, although the legislative authority of the state may be ever so
great, yet still the power and influence of the judges may be
greater than that of the deputies.
Courts of justice may well be described as an institution
framedl for the express purpose of putting an end to the practice of private war. The legislatui-e is well fitted to make
general rul:s for the governmnent of the people, and the executive to keep watch over the public safety. But without the
instrumentality of the judicial tribunals, which act in detail
andi not merely in the gross, society would be a prey to perpetual civil dissensions. D)isputes between private individuals
are occurrences of every day. The manifold relations which
men have to each other in a thriving and cultivated societty,
multiply them greatly.  These disputes have relation to the
most, valuable interests of society: life, liberty, and property.
And to have devised a inode by which they may be quietly
appeased, is one of the greatest achievements of modern civilization. In a state of imperfect civilization, the quarrels of
individuals frequently assume a formidable shape, and become
matters of the gravest public interest. The injured parties
interest first their relatives and friends, then the neighborhood, and finally whole districts of country are involved in
the fermne'-t. A dispute respecting the boundary of lands, or
a miere personal trespass, is kindled into a, furious insurrection,
which nothing but a military force can subdue. An institution,
therefore, which goes to the bottom of the evil, and takes up
each case as it arises, separately and in detail, and which is so
constructed as to inspire a very general confidence in its impartiality and integrity, necessarily occupies a very important
place in the complicated apparatusof government.
It is curious to mark the successive steps by which the prac




CHIAP. vI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                   455
tice of private war has been finally put down; how, fronm the
most diffused and discordant elements, a regular system  for
administering justice has sprung into existence. The trial by
ordeal and judicial combat which make such a figure in t-he
codes of the European states, at an early period, were the first
rude attempts to mitigate the custom of private war. There
may be said to be this natural foundation for the combat, that
all ignorant people, when they are offended, immediatelly feel
like fighting; and for the ordeal, that all superstitious people
have faith in the determination by lot. But it would be a' i;cat
mistake, as an admirable writer'  has remarkled, to sup,,:;pe
that these customs were calculated to fortify or to con.tinuel
the practice of private war. On the c6ntr>ary, they were (1designed to have an opposite effect. The legislator said to the
injured party: if you insist uponl revenging yourself, y on ish14ll
at any rate do it according to certain forms, and in the plresence of the public.  The secret pursuit, the midnight murider
of an enemy, were thenceforth put an end to.  The pecuniary composition was a step still further in advance.  Although at first it was at the election of the injured party
whether he would accept it; in time it canme to be absolutely
binding upon him. And thus the practice of even reouglated
warfare was completely checked. When we read, in some of
the most ancient European codes, of the trial by ordeal, of
judicial combat, and of the "wehrgeld," we are apt to regard
them- as anomalies in the history of society, of which lno just
and satisfactory account can be given. They were undoubtedly relies of a custom  still more barbarous; but the true
view is to consider them. as the first feeble efforts which were
made to rid the community of the practice of private vwar.
The duel was substituted in the place of private assassination;
and in progress of time the relations of the murdered wan
were compelled to receive a pecuniary compensation, instead
of revenging themselves by the murder of the criminal,, or his
family.
Although the pecuniary mulet excites surprise, wheP  we
read of it in the history of the middle ages, it has notwithstanding occupied a considerable place in the criminal
codes of some of the -most enlightened modern states.  In
I Guizot's "Civilization Francaise," 1, p. 365.




456              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOON IMo
that of Ohio, passed so late as 1809, it makes a part of the
punishment of every felony except four. There was this difficulty attending this systsm, under the Salic and Ripuarian
laws, that the delinquent having no property might be unable
to pay the fine. What then should be done?  Montesquieu
says, that he was placed out of the pale of the law, and the
injured party was permitted to redress the wrong. But this
was not the course resorted to by all the German nations.
Some of them imposed outlawry, banishment, transportion, or
slavery. The laws of Ohio avoided the awkward predicament
of the Salic and Itipuarian codes, by combining the penalty of
imprisonment with that of the fine; so that the maximum of
the first would alone be sufficient, if the circumstances of the
criminal made it necessary to abstain from the fine. The existence of the pecuniary composition in the American laws,
and in the Saxon, Salic, and Ripuarian codes, marks two totally different states of society. In the last it denoted a feeble
effort to get rid of the lawless violence which everywhere prevailed: but in the other it was a step from  one regular mode
of procedure to another still more regular, but more humane
and judicious. In other words, it constituted the transition
state from the system of capital punishments to the scheme of
penitentiary discipline.  There was another difference still
nmore striking. The Germanic tribes held fast to the notion
that a crime was an offense against an individual. They were
not able to raise themselves to the higher conception, that it
wvfs an offense against society, much less that it was an infrijngement of the laws of God. Hence the fine was never so
high but numbers to whom revenge was sweet could afford to
pay it: hence also it was not paid to the state, but was given
to the injured person, or in case of homicide, to the relations
of the deceased.
The whole course of modern jurisprudence runs counter to
such ideas. A crime is not merely regarded as an infringement of private rights, but as a violation of the great rules of,morality, so much so, that the private injury in the most fagrant cases is merged in the public offense. For it is the
chief design of legislators, at the present day, to impress every one with so deep a sense of the heinousness of crime, that
the guilty man shall both regard himself, and be regarded by




cI-HAP. VII. ]   OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  457
the community as an outlaw from society. In this way the
remorse of conscience is added to the physical punishment
which is inficted. ZFor want of such just notions, society was
formerly a prey to the wildest disorders. For as long as the
license to commit crime could be purchased at a price, the
power of conscience was necessarily very feeble. The license
was regarded as a privilege, instead of as a badge of disgrace.
The life and reputation of man seem to be cheap, until he is
raised high in the scale of civilization. Hie becomes more accustomed to the degradation of his own existence, and views
the existence of others as being equally degraded with his
own.
I do not mean to give any opinion as to the propriety of
compelling the criminal to make additional satisfaction to the
injured person, or, in the case of felonious homicide, to his relations. But this should never be enjoined as the chief end
of punishmient. If the plan is adopted, it should never, in
the graver offenses, be by way of fine. The delinquent should
be condemned to hard labor in the penitentiary, and that
labor tbe made available to the widow and children who had
been deprived of their support. There are even then some
difficulties in carrying out the plan in detail. The murdered
man,, fr instance, was perhaps so worthless, that instead of
sustaining, he was sustained by his family. At the same time,
therefore, that the public punishment cannot be dispensed
with, there is no room for compensation to private individuals.  And although cases will occur where the degree of
private injury can be easily ascertained, there will be others
where it will be exceedingly difficult to compute it in advance,
since no one can determine how long the murdered man may
have lived, and may. have been able and willing to maintain
his family. The laws in modern times never give the fine to
an individual, except in those cases where there is the least
propriety in so doing: that is to say, to the base informer.
The judiciary is considered by Montesquieu as a branch of
the executive power. That there are resemblances between
these two departments, is certain; and that the points of resemblance between the two are different, at different stages of
society, is also clear. Butt it is necessary to trace the gradual
rise of both, in order to ascertain in what respects they differ,




455            NATURE AND TENDENCY               [ BOOKI III.
and in what they agree. iA proposition may sometimes be
true as an historical fact, and yet untrue as a principle. And
the reverse may also be the case. 2In the former instance, the
business of the political philosopher is to malke use of the
fact, only so far as it may be the means of eliciting the principle.
At an early period of society, the king, or chief of the nation, by whatever name he was known, dispensed justice in
person. It would be correct to say, that the judiciary then
formed a branch of the executive authority. But the great
multitude of controversies, both civil and criminal, which
grow up with the progress of civilization, put an end to this
arrangement, and cause it to be superseded by another. The
executive magistrate has neither the time, nor the ability, to
attend to the ten thousandth part of the controversies whicli
are perpetually springing up in an industrious and densely
populated country. He is obliged to employ a great number
of subordinate agents: and this immediately introduces new
combinations, and a new element of power, into the government.
What was originally regarded as an arrangement of convenience, turns out to be an important step in the advancement
of society. These deputies of the king render themselves so
useful to the community, and acquire in consequence so large
a share of influence, that they are no longer viewed as his
dependents.  The administration of the laws, by a class of
men set apart for that purpose, raises the whole body of
judicial magistrates to an independent position in the state:
and not only renders it unnecessary, but absolutely forbids
that the executive magistrate should take part in judicial proceedings. James I. was the last British monarch who ventured to take a seat on the bench; and he was reminded by
the judges that he had no business there-no right to give
counsel and advice on the trial of any cause.
But as the judges still continue to be appointed by the
king, and to hold their places at his pleasure, the next important step is to render them  irremovable after they are
commissioned.  And this was not effected in Great Britain
until the act of settlement in 1689, nor even then completely
until the first year of George III. In France, at one time,




CHAP. VI.]d       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 459
the tenure of the judges went beyond any thing known in
England.  The office was hereditary.  It was the absolute
property of the incumnbent, capable of being disposed of by
sale or devise.  And we know that MAontesquieu, the celebrated writer, made sale of his when he retired into the
country to write "' The Spirit of Laws."  At present, the tenure is the same as it is in Great Britain.These changes are afterward followed, though at very long
intervals, by another of still greater importance. The executive not only ceases to be judge, but he loses the power of appointment.  The same causes, the general spread of intelligence, and the complicated transactions of society, which
gave the judges so independent a position in the community,
act with even more force upon another department. The legislative body, the more immediate representatives of the peap11e, attains ani entirely new rank and importance; and the
appointment of the judges is devolved upon it. And if, when
these were nominated by the king, it was correct to say that
the judiciary was a branch of the executive power, with equal
reason mlay we assert, that it has now become a branch of the
legislative department. nBut suppose that the chief magistrate, and the members of the legislative assembly, are themselves elected by the people for limited terms, we shall not be
at liberty to make either the one assertion or the other. In
the early stages of society, the king is literally the sovereign;
and it is by virtue of this attribute that he then centers in
himself the powers of both the other departments.  He is
not merely judge; he is supreme legislator also. In proportion as the state becomes strong, he becomes weak. He is
deprived of his prerogatives, one by one, in order that they
may be distributed by the real sovereign, the people; which
now, for the first time, makes its appearance upon the stage.
The government then assumes the character of a regular
system. Three distinct departments are created by one common power; neither of which can lay claim  to any part of
the sovereignty of the state.
But there is one sense in which the judges may be said,
in a very advanced state of society, to exercise a very important share of the executive authority. When the chief
magistrate is elected for a short term, and none of the subor



460              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK III.
dinate officers are chosen by himself, his power is so greatly
abridged, that he is known by the name, rather than by
the functions he exerts. The decisions which he makes are
not one in a hundred to those which are made by the courts:
and to these tribunals are attached officers, who carry into
immediate execution the orders which they receive.  This
is the case in all the state constitutions of America, which
afford the most. perfect models of government that have
ever been established.  In Ohio, for instance, the judges
are perpetually active; while the executive, having little
or nothing to do, is almost inert. If the executive offiers
of the courts were only appointed by the courts, we might
say that the judiciary had usurped nearly all the executive
power of the state.
The independence of the judiciary has been considered as a
fundamental principle in government. But by that term is
understood, in Great Britain and France, and even in the
United States, where European ideas sometimes contribute
to modify the institutions, a tenure for life. And yet the
same arguments which are employed to vindicate the propriety of this arrangement, may be used with nearly equal
force to show that the executive and the legislative body
should hold their places for life. In somne respects there
would be even greater propriety in establishing this rule in
the latter than in the former case. For the chief magfistrate
and the popular deputies stand in the midst of the party conflicts of the day, and if we wish to protect them from the
storms of political life, that so their judgments may not be
swerved from the path of rectitude by the changeable currents
of opinion, no way would seem so effectual as to withdraw
them from this influence. There may be the most solid reasons why, in a monarchical government, the judges should be
independent, in the English sense of the term; and yet these
reasons may be inapplicable in a republic, and not have sufficient force to lay the foundation of a general maxim. 5That
only is entitled to the dignity and value of a maxim which,
although it may not be applicable to all circumstances, and to
every condition of society, is yet applicable to the most perfect disposition of the subject matter which we have to deal
with.




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                461
In Great Britain and France the executive magistrate is a
hereditary officer, and the appointment of the judges is
vested in him. The only plan, therefore, of creating anything
like an independence of him, is to make the tenure of their
office permanent. The only alternative is between removability at the pleasure of the king, and a tenure for life. The
last plan has been adopyted, in order to produce an effect which,
in a conntry of free institutions, is unnecessary and out of
pIlace. As the station which the king holds is so fatr removed
from the wholesome influence of public opinion, the judges, if
dependent upon him, might be subservient to his worst designs. The influence of the crown would be felt everywhere 
in the walks of private life, as well as in political affairs. So
great an authority centered in one person, might- render him
the preponderant power in the state. By breaking the link
of connection from  the moment the appointment is made,
there may be good ground to expect that the judges will feel
a due sense of responsibility to the community which they are
appointed to serve.
For what we intend, or should wish to intend, when we reason in favor of the independence of the judges, is that they
should be freed from the control of any individual; that they
should not be subjected to any species of personal influence.
But this by no means implies that they should be independent
of the society or community whose interests they are designed
to administer.  The two things have been constantly confounded, although, in reality, they differ from each other in
most respects. If in the United States the appointing power
was a hereditary body, or one elected for life, the analogy would
hold. It would then be necessary to render the judges independent of that power, in order to secure their dependence
upon, and responsibility to, the people. But if the appointing power is itself chosen by the people, for a short term, a
tenure for a limited period may not only be compatible with the
independence of the judiciary, it may be the true way of reconciling that independence with a due sense of responsibility. If
the term independence of the judiciary does necessarily mean
an emancipation from the control which electoral government
imposes, the people of America would be led to pull down the
whole fabric of the institution which they have constructed,




462               NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOK III.
in order to introduce so salutary a principle into all departmlents.
Notwithstanding the independence of the judiciary, as understood in Europe, is an anomaly in some of the American
constitutions, there are some circumnstances which have caused
it to work wrell in practice.
First. The pursuits of a judge are of a highly intellectual
character, and all intellectual pursuits exercise a favorable in.
fluence upon the character. They have a decidedly moral tendency. Although the investigation of legal questions mlay
-ot contribute to open and invigorate the understandinfg So
much as some other mental occupations, it assists powerfully
in strengthening the moral qualities. The duties which the
judge is called upon to discharge, consist in the alpplication of
the rules of morality to the afitairs of real life, and ere therefore caleulated to impress his whole behavior with a.n air of
seriousness and conscientiousness.  To be called to act as unmpire in the numerous and important controver ies between
individuals, to sit in judgment upon the lif'e anLd repatlta:tllio  of
a fellow being, to hold the scales of justice -with a fihonF:ncd
unfaltering haund: these are duties of no common impolrt, aenidl
except in natures very illy formed are every way fitted to
purify and elevate the charater. The judge, too, is removed
from  the scene of party conflicts-, nor is it expected that iLe
will mingle in all the gayety and frivolity of fashionalble, life.
He is thus placed out of the way of temptation more ih:n
other.men, and is insensibly beguiled into a train of c(c-v-, ot
the most favorable for the practice of both piublic a-l;c plri';: -:'
virtue.
Second. The system of judicial precedents acts, to a ctnn.siderable extent, as a check upon the conduct of joudgo. As
it is necessary that there should be rules to restrain j-)ive-te
individuals, so it is also necessary that there should b ie ai Nv
to-restrain the court, and precedents constitute that ]1aw. The
respect for cases which have already been adjudged, altlhouPb it
should ne-ver be carried so far as to render them absolutely
binding, prevernts any marked or habitual derilection of drl-y.
The profession are apt to be heenly attentive to bothi the 1motives and the reasons of the bench, wheii it und erta-l'es to
overthrow a decision which has growrn to be a princip]e; anid




CHATh. vIr.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                    463
in this way a system of responsibility is created, which, in the
case of all other public functionaries, can only be brought
about by short, terms of office.
These views are of considerable importance  in surveying
this interesting question in all its parts..Bult they rfather
show that there are some compensatory contrivances incident
to the system, than that the system is as perfect as it inay be
made. The theory of comp)ensations is sometimes of inestimiable value.  It is even our only resource, where the structure of society is of so fixed a character as to givxe us a very
liumited control  over thae politic.al institutions.  But if these
contrivances will not always continue to act with effect; if
they do not cure all the defects which it would be desirable
to reach; above all, if the society in which we are pluaced presents entirely new inmateritals, it may be the pert of wisdom to
endeavor to reconstruct, in pa.rt, a system  which has grown
up under other canll very different circumstances. To permuit
it to stand forever ia the sanme position, would be a confession
that what we terin compensations are somlething which makes
amends for our own want of foresight and ability rather than
for any inevitable fault in the system itself.
Pab'lic opinion in America was at one time universally in
favor of thel inldependence of the judiciary. In some parts of
the union, there are at present many individuals of the greatest intelligence who are firmly attached to the scheme.  They
believe that the most untoward influences may be brought to
bear upon the adminstration of justice, unless this is inserted as
a fundamental principle in the government. MAy own opinion
is, that once a nation has entered upon the taskl of self government, it is bound to encounter all the perils which are incidlent to it; and that these perils, numerous as they are, are
among the means provided for preserving the integrity of'the
system. A  nation whieh has once fairly entered upon this
arduous career, has overcome the principal difficulty; all other
obstacles will be surmounted as the people grow into the systenl.  Perhaps ma-ny of the mischiefs which now incommode
society, are a consequence of the rubbing together of old
and -,ew ideas.  But, when the new ideas become a thing of
familiazr apprehension and of daily exercise, the minds of men
will take a wider survey of the whole field of experiment, and




464              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK III.
acquire more confidence in the results which may be expected.
And this increase of confidence will add strength to the institutions-will give them the very support which they stand in
need of. Nothing throws so many obstacles in the way of
self-government, as a denial of the right and ability of -the
people to engage in it. If on the other hand these are frankly
conceded, and all intelligent men lend ther assistance in carry.
ing out the plan, everything will go easy.
An election for a term of years may be necessary, to enable
the mind of the judge to keep pace with the general progress
of knowledge, and more especially to make him  acquainted
with the diversified working of the institutions under which
he lives; in the administration of a part of which he is engaged, but all parts of which are thoroughly connected. A
public officer may be wonderfully skilled in all the mysteries
of his profession, and yet lag miserably behind the age in
which he lives. It is a great mistake to suppose, that because
the judges are called to expound the principles of an abstruse
science, that they should be insensible to the general movement of the age and country in which they are born; that
they should live in society, and come perpetually in contact
with the practical concerns of men, and yet be unaffected by
the influence of public opinion. There is a very wide difference between being drawn from the path of rectitude and
duty, by every temporary gust of party spirit, and submitting
the mind to the healthful influence of those opinions and
feelings which grow up in the progress of every improving
society. The first unhinges the mind; the last refreshes and
invigorates it. There is no public magistrate whose mind will
not be enlarged and liberalized, whose views will not be rendered both more wise and just, by catching something from
the influence of that public opinion which constitutes, to so
great an extent, the regulative principle of society. There is
no art, or calling, or profession, which is not greatly modified
in practice through the instrumentality of this influence. But
when the judge is sure, provided he commits no technical violation of duty, that he will retain his station for life, he is
very apt to regard himself as entirely absolved from this control. And although he may not outrage the law in a single
instance, he may give evidence of the narrowest views and




CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 465
the most rooted bigotry, which, although unperceived by himself, will give a tinge to the whole administration of justice.
There is always a vast amount of large and enlightened views,
and these popular ones too, pervading every society in which
free institutions are established, which do not deserve to be
treated as mere algebraical quantities; for although they do
not.exactly constitute the principles of any particular science,
they surround every science and profession which have to
deal with the interests of men, and afford light and assistance
at every step which we take.
But the chief argument in favor of a limited tenure of
office, is derived from the peculiar character and functions of
a court of justice: so diffirent from what they appear to be in
theory, and so different from what they are actually supposed
to be from  a cursory observation.  Such a tribunal does in
effect partake, to a great extent, of the character of a legislative body. The idea commonly entertained is, that it is sinply
invested with the power of expounding the laws, which have
been ordained by another and a distinct department of government; and this office it does undoubtedly perfornm. But
this power of expounding comprehends a great deal, aund
reaches much further than is generally imagined. It at once
communicates to a court of justice, the double character of a
legislative and judicial tribunal.  This is inevitable, and
arises from the inherent imperfection which attends all human
institutions.  It is not in the power of any collection of men,
formed into a legislative assembly, however fertile in resources their understandings may be, to invent a system of readymade rules which shall embrace all, or anything like all, the
cases which actually occur. The consequence is, that a judicial tribunal which has been created with the avowed design
of applying the laws as they are made, finds itself engaged
in an endless series of disquisitions and reasonings, in order
to ascertain the precise rule which is applicable to any paurticular case. The innumerable contracts, voluntary dispositions,
and delinquencies of individuals, are perpetually giving a new
form to private controversies, and present new views and new
questions to the examination of the court. Hoiwever fiall and
however minute the code of laws may be in its provisions, a
vast field is still left open for the exercise of the reasoning
30




466              NK'TURE AND TENDENCY              [BOIK I1.
powers, and the sound discrimination of the judges. The
cases of the " first impression," as the lawyers term them, are
as numerous now as when Marshall and Kent took their seats
upon the bench. It is not a reproach to the legal profession,
that this should be so; it is merely a curious and interesting
fact in the history of jurisprudence, that the exigencies of society, the ever-varying forms into which the transactions of
business are thrown, should ramify to such an endless extent
the rules which regulate the conduct of individuals. Perhaps
it is no more than happens to every other department of
knowledge; for every conquest which science makes, every
-fresh accession it receives, only presents a new vantage.ground, whence the mind can see further and take in a wider
scope than it did before. But in jurisprudence, the experiments which are made are infinitely more numerous than in.any other science; and this contributes to modify, and to attenuate, to a wonderful extent, the rules which have been
nmade and the principles which have already been adjudged.
For every question which arises, every case which is tried, is.a new experiment which lays the foundation for new views,and new analyses, and which the finer and more subtle they.are, the more they escape from the grasp of general principles,,and the greater the discretion which is conferred upon the
courts of justice.
It is sometimes supposed, that all the decisions which are,now made, all the rules which are declared, are mere deduc-.tions from some gelreral principles, which had been previously
settled. But how far back, and by whom, were these principiles. settled?  Not by the legislature. The greatest genius
which had devoted itself exclusively to the task, would be incompetent to its performance. Hence the laws are comparatively few,. while the books of jurisprudence are immensely,voluminous. The human mind is able to invent very little.
Its true employment consists in the observation and analysis of.phenomena, after they have been developed, and in thein binding them together into classes. And as this process of (level-,opment, in the case of jurisprudence, is constantly going on,,after as well as before the legislature have passed the most.comprehensive laws, the functions of the judge, do what we
~will, or turn the question in whatever aspect w e please, are




CHAP. VII.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                    467
compelled to bear a very close analogy with those of the lawmaking power., If all the rules which are now declared by
the courts are mere corollaries from the statute book, or from
previous adjudications, the same may have been said one or
two hundred years ago, and then what is the meaning of that
vast accumulation of learning which then exercised, and still
continues to exercise, human ingenuity?  Admitting that
there are some sciences, where a few elementary truths being
given, the whole mass of subordinate principles may be readily evolved from them-a proposition which may require further investigation, before it is admitted —yet, this cannot be
the case with jurisprudence, which does not deal with abstract
propositions simply; but with a state of facts, where the question is perpetually recurring-what does human experience
prove to be the wisest rule, which can be adopted'? or what
does it prove to be the wisest construction of a rule already
in existence?
Profound writers, and among others Leibnitz, and Dugald
Stewart, have supposed that jurisprudence might be reduced
to a regular and exact science, in which all our conclusions
may be deduced with absolute rigor, and with the force of
demonstration from certain previously established principles.*
But to the question, how numerous shall these principles be,
the most acute understanding can give no satisfactory answer.
In every department of moral science, in order to be able to
range a case under any particular principle, we must first go
through a process of analysis more or less tedious. The principle may be taken for granted, and yet its applicability be
In I" Nouveaux Essais de l'entendement," b. iv, chap. vii, Leibnitz says
that jurisprudence and medicine differ widely in this respect; that in the
former, we can deduce all our conclusions from certain general principles;
that we want few books therefor, but in medicine we cannot have too
many. But medicine depends upon our physical structure, jurisprudence
upon both our physical and moral structure. Medicine is adapted to the
constitutions of individuals, jurisprudence to collective societies of men.
The last, therefore, must be the most complicated; it must require as
much experience and observation,,and therefore as wide an induction of
facts, and as full a collection of those phenomena which we call cases.
And therefore it is, that law books have always, in the age of Tribonian
as well as that of Kent, been more numerous than medical works.




468              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK III.
determinable only after much investigation. If it is not only'
applicable to the whole extent, but requires to be modified-a
thing of common occurrence-the foundation is immediately
laid for a host of other principles, equally authoritative, and
each claiming to control all the cases which can be brought
under it; until at length, the process of analysis being pushed
still farther, these principles give way before others still more
numerous, which assume to be the guide, because they are
more exactly applicable to a given state of facts. So that,
admitting the great value of what are termed general principles-and hardly any one will deny it —what a wide field is
notwithstanding opened to human ingenuity in tracing out
the fine analogies which may connect a given controversy with
an elementary truth. How different may be the judgments
of different minds equally astute and ingenious, when exercised -upon precisely the same state of facts. The functions
of the court will still be resembled to those of a legislative
body. There will be ample room for the operation of sinister
motives, which will both warp the judgment and bind the
moral vision. And the position which I have endeavored to
enforce, will be true: that if it is not wise to confer a permlaune-t tenure of office upon the executive and legislative, it
should not be conferred upon the judiciary; and the more so,
because the legislative functions which the last perform  is a
fact entirely hidden from the great majority of the community.
It is remarkable that some very enlightened minds should
be so wedded to the independence of the judiciary, when in
the nature of things, men must sometimes be elevated to the
bench who are deficient in both the moral and intellectual
qualities which are requisite: and when the only remedy
which can be applied consists in re-eligibility. I, for one,
protest against the adoption of a principle, which would secure an incompetent or badly-disposed judge in the possession
of his place, for thirty or forty years, because he committed
no flagrant violation of duty. It is not always a reflection
upon the wisdom of the appointing power, that an improper
person has been elected. Very excellent lawyers have sometimes made indifferent judges; and lawyers not the most
eminent, have sometimes become very distinguished judges.
Nor are the moral qualities of the man always sufficiently de



C.AP. VII.;      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                469
veloped, to assure us what his future conduct will be, if he is
placed for life in a situation of even tolerable ease. The experiment however must be made; and our only alternative is
to provide a plan by which an unworthy or ignorant judge
may be removed, as well as a fit one be continued in office.
And admitting that no scheme will be entirely successful in
accomplishing either the one or the other, I do suppose, that
none which can be invented will so well answer all the ends
which we are in search of, as an election for a moderate term
of years.
The purity of character and the eminent learning of the
English judges have always been the subject of comminendation, and certainly it does not become any one who is not
furnished with the most exact information, to detract from
this high praise. That the English judges, as a body, have
been superior to those of the states of continental Europe, may
be conceded; but at the same time it is clear that there may
be numberless improprieties and aberrations from the strict
path of duty, which the exceedingly technical character of the
English system of procedure would entirely conceal from the
public eye. Moreover, the English bench is connected with
the aristocracy. The two institutions are glued together.
And whenever society is distributed into distinct classes, it is
difficult for those who are out of a particular class to penetrate
into its interior, so as to observe and understand everything
which is transacted within it. It is only incidentally that we
are able to catch anything which sheds light upon the manners
of English judges.
The peculiar interest which attached to the life of Savage,
caused his biography to be written by one of the most remarkable men of the day, who has related the very extiraordinary
behavior of the judge who sat upon the trial. An eminent
Englishman, in his sketch of Lord Ellenborough, has detailed
the high-handed course which that eminent judge pursued on
the trial of some very important state cases.
In France, where the tenure of the judges is the same as in
Great Britain, it has always been the custom for suitors to
visit the judges. The practice, to say the least, does not look
well. It may not be attended with any improper influence.
But a violation of decorum is often a stepping stone to the




470              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK III.
commission of some graver fault. The system of bribery, once
universally in vogue, may have been entirely abandoned, but
an intelligent traveler who lately attended the trial of a case
in a French court, tells us that he saw the judge who presided
driving the splendid equipage in which, a few days before, the
successful suitor traveled to the assizes.
Indeed if one were disposed to look to England, to furnish
us with a body of experience, which would help to decide this
interesting question, we might find arguments in favor of the
absolute dependence of the judges, as decisive as those which
are employed on the opposite side of the question. For the
chancellor, the judges of the admiralty, and of the ecclesiastical courts, are removable at any time, and yet these magistrates have been in every respect equal to their brethren of the
common-law courts.
The judicial system of the American states, differs in many
respects from that established in Great Britain. As civil government is not understood to exist for the purpose of creating
a splendid and imposing pageant of authority, all the institutions are made to administer in the most easy, effectual, and
unostentatious manner, to the practical wants of the community. To cause justice to be dispensed thoroughly, extensively,
and with the least cost and parade, has been the governing
idea in the organization of the courts. It is not enough to
possess such tribunals unless they are completely within the
reach of every one who has a complaint to make before them.
England and Wales, with a population of eighteen millions,
have about twenty judges assigned to the superior courts. The
United States, with a population a little larger, have more
than two hundred.
I take no account in the enumeration of the county courts,
courts of request, and other subordinate tribunals, which are
established in the former country, since the business transacted by them all falls within the jurisdiction of justices of the
peace in America, whose numbers amount to many thousands.
I simply confine myself to those courts, which in' the two
countries exercise a corresponding jurisdiction. The disparity
there is immense, and it is a fact full of interest and instruction. No man who is not clad in an armor of gold can gain
entrance into the English court of chancery: and no man can




CHAP. vIr.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                   471
litigate effectually in the king's bench, or common pleas, unless
his circumstances are very independent.  Very different is the
state of things in the United States. Local courts, of a high
as well as of an inferior jurisdiction, are established throughout the whole country, and amply compensate by their intrinsic
utility for the want of pageantry and show. But this consequence follows, that however easy it may be to select twenty
men with splendid salaries, to occupy very imposing stations
in the government; it may be a matter of very considerable
difficulty to induce two hundred to accept office, where the
duties are unremitting and arduous, the salaries low, and where
the occupation, although of an intellectual character, is yet
seldom sufficiently so to fill the mind and to gratify a high
ambition.  The law being. an exhausted science, so far as regards the leading principles, the business tra-nsacted by the
courts becomes one chiefly of detail, -not requiring faculties so
high as formerly, but demanding more patience and assiduity,
and a greater degree of tact in the performarnce of the duties.
What is sought after in America, and what should be the
object of pursuit in every other civilized state, is a judicial
system which shall do the business, the whole business, and
nothing but the business; and this in the most promplt and
effectual mannrirer practicable. Andd this end cannot be cattainedl
witlhout the establishment of numerous courts of superior jnrisdiction, and without therefore running the risk of soinetimles
procuri ng incomipetent persons to act as judges. The a.verage
number of court days in all the six circuits in England (exetusive of Londont) is one hundred and thirty-five.  The ave-age
number in each of the fiftee-n circuits in the single State or
Ohio, whose population is not more than two amillions, is one
hundred and sixty-three.  It is no wonder that want of time
to try the case was assigned as one reason for proceedintr by
impeachment, rather than by indictment, against the late Lord
Melville. That the risk incurred in selecting proper persons
to set upon the bench in America has. turned out to be much
less than was catculated, ma.y be matter of surprise: but that
it will alwa ys exist to some extent, is a dlecisive reasonl why
the judges should be chosen for a term  of years.  Even in
England, we are assured upon very high authority, thll:t not
more than twenty lawyers can be found competent to fill the




472              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [n30oo  III'
place of "6 puisne " judge.  But if the courts were more numerous, and the demand for ability greater, there can be no doubt
that the supply would keep pace with it; and that there would
be no more difficulty in obtaining two hundred, than there is
now of obtaining twenty judges.*
At the present day the tenure for life is abolished in nearly
one half of the American states. The term of office varies
considerably in different parts of the Union. In Pennsylvania
it is fifteen years, while in Vermont it is only one year.  In
the greater number the period is seven years.  So far as we
may judge from the books of reports, I do not know that any
courts have given evidence of more solid and extensive learaing tha than those of New Jersey, where the duration of the office
under both the late and present constitutions is eight yeatrs.
And Indiana, where the system is the same, furnishes the example of a very young community immediately springing
forward in this career of improvement. The decisions of her
supreme court are also marked by uncommonl ability and
learning.
In FPenlnsylvania, the system has been recently adopted; but
there is every reason to believe, that her courts will continue
to maintain the high reputation which they have hither enjoyed. In Connecticut, it is quite remarkable that before the
independent tenure was introduced, and when the elections
were annual, the bench was eminently distinguished for the
learning, ability, and integrity of the members who composed
it. I believe I do not exaggerate, whven I say that five or six
of the judges who sat in her superior court prior to the constitution of 181S, would have done honor to any of the courts of
Westminster Hall. By causing the administration of justice
to penetrate every part of the community, the conduct of the
judges, in America, is submitted to a more thorough observation and scrutiny, by the public at large, than in any other
country. And as it is the people, and none but the people,
who are interested in the upright and impartial administration
I Diuring the Cromwellian Revolution in England, the professors in the
universities were removed, and dissenters appointed in their place. On
the restoration of Charles II, the new incumbents were found to be so entirely competent to the discharge of their duties, that no thought was
entertained of removing them. They all retained their places.




CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                473
of the laws, an unworthy man, who has fortuitously wriggled
himself into office, will stand an uneven chance for re-election.
For what period shall the judges be elected? is a question
to which different minds may give different answers. Nor is
it very important what the precise period shall be. Once the
system of responsibility is established, we have made sure of
the ruling principle which is to guide in the constitution of the
courts, and the greater or less exactness with which it is applied, is a matter of minor consideration. I should say that
the term should not be less than five, nor more than ten years.
One reason why the members of the legislative body are elected
for so short a period as one or two years, is to introduce the
great body of the citizens to an acquaintance with public affairs,
and to cultivate in them an ability to take part in their management. Free institutions are a security for the preservation
of liberty, only beeause they lay the foundation for that disciplilie of the character, which enables us to know and appreciate what liberty is. But the law is a science which no more
than theology or medicine, can be made the study of the great
bulk of the people. It is necessarily the exclusive pursuit of
a small number, whose trainingr and education, both before
and after they are admitted to the bar, is obliged to take a
direction which conspires to a single end. The legislature is a
numerous body; the free and discursive character of the debate, and the! large dimensions which very many questions
assume, force upon the mind of almost every mnember some
tolerable acquaintance with their purport and bearing. But
a silgle controversy at the bar, in order to be grasped, may
demaand the most minute and painful attention of even the
professors of the science: so much so, that it is not at all uncomm.uon for a lawyer who has been present, but not engaged
in a particular trial, to feel himself at a loss, if he undertakes
to give a distinct account of the testimony, and of the precise
legal questions which were mooted. It is not because the law
is a ccabalistical science, that it is full of perplexity; it is because it deals so much in detail, and because it is impossible
to get rid of this detail, when we are obliged to apply our
knowledge to the multifarious transactions ot human life. The
general principles by which the mercantile body conduct their
affairs, are pretty much the same everywhere; yet how much




474             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BooK III.
caution, attention, and sagacity, are sometimes necessary in
settling a long and intricate account, even where no difficult,
legal question intervenes. I would, therefore, make the tenure
of the judges long enough to induce lawyers of competent
ability to abandon the profession in exchange for that office;
while at the same time, I would not make it so long as to absolve the judges from a strict responsibility to the community.
I would rather increase the salaries than part with the depend
ent tenure.
The manner in which the laws are administered, the exterior
deportment of the bar and bench, are a matter of very great
importance. The business habits which are' acquired by an
experience of some years, insure promptitude, skill and dispatch, in the decision of legal controversies. The trial of
cases is conducted with ease, order, and regularity. The confidence of suitors is greatly and justly increased by this circumstance. Instead of altercations between the judge and
the advocate which so much disturb the regular course of
business, and detract from the weight of the court, every
thing proceeds in an even and regular manner. Integrity of
purpose is not of more consequence than ability; for without
knowledge, there is no room for the exercise of integrity. - A
judge may intend very well in the general, and yet be unable
to mean anything distinct, when it becomes all important for
him to act and to make his integrity apparent in the things
which he does. The term of office, therefore, should be long
enough to enable the public to make a fair trial of the ability
and moral qualities of the incumbent; and not so long as to
prevent a removal in a reasonable time, if he is deficient in
either.
I have referred to the system of legal precedents, as constituting a salutary check upon the conduct of judges. It now
becomes necessary to approach this subject more closely, and
to explain distinctly the view I have taken, in order that we
may be able to understand, in its full extent, what is the fothrce
and operation of precedents. But if any thing is said which
goes to qualify the proposition I before laid down, the reader
must not therefore run away with the idea that there is contradiction. Political philosophy has to encounter the saine difficulties which beset jurisprudence.  Our principles have to be con



CHAP. vIr.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONTS.               475
stantly modified, but they are not therefore to be dispensed
with.
When one considers the vast amount of adjudged cases
which are already reported in the United States alone, it is
obvious that the utmost attention and patience may be necessary to decipher them, when they are appealed to as rules, or
as mere guides in the determination of particular cases. They
will be a very ineffectual cheek upon one who is unable to seize
their import, and to appreciate them for exactly what they are
worth. The principles of jurisprudence in almost every one
of its departments have been so exceedingly ramified by the
multitude of similar, or very nearly similar controversies, that
the shades of difference between different precedents are often
so minute, as to hold the judgment in suspense as to which
should be relied upon. And yet they may con(luct to totally
different conclusions in a given cease. The consequence is, that
a very considerable proportion of the cases which are actually
decided might be determined either way with a great show of
reason, and with a like reliance upon precedents in either case.
This observation will startle the general reader, but it will not
fail to be comprehended by the learned and experienced jurist.
Nor is it more remarkable than what is daily exhibited in all
courts of justice, to wit, the appearance of lawyers of known
integrity, on different sides of the case, each arguing with zeal
and perfect conviction for the correctness of the views he advocates. Persons who are imperfectly informed, believe that
this practice is totally inconsistent with the uprightness which
should belong to the members of any profession. Others look
upon it as something which can be explained in no way whatever. But in truth it is not imputable to dishonesty, nor is it
ineapable of reasonable explanation.  It is a natural consequence of the nature of the science, which having to deal with
an infinity of detail, necessarily runs out into an infinity of deductions and conclusions, which perpetually modify and cross
each other. Independently of a number of cases which are
settled out of court, by the advice of the profession, and of a
number which might be equally settled in the same way, there
are still a greater number where the principles appealed to on
either side are very evenly balanced.
But this very important consequence follows: that in many




476             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK III.
cases wahe j  the distinctions are fine, and the authority of precedents is half obliterated, an ill-disposed judge may cast his
prejudices into the scale in order to decide the controversy,
without his motives being suspected by any one, or if suspected, without the possibility of being detected. The judge
who has a competent share of the pride of human Opinion;
the lawyer who believes that jurisprudence is a science  "par
excellence," a science of strict and immutable rules, may
demur to these views; but I am satisfied they will gain the
assent of a majority cf both the bench and the bar. And if
they are well founded, they afford powerful reasons why the
judicial tenure should not be for life. By submitting the conduct of the judge, during a limited period, to the observation
of the public, in those instances where his motives and reasons will be apprehended, the probability is less that he will
on any occasion, free himself romr the restraint which a sense
of duty should invariably impose upon him. The public feel
as if they had no right to scan the conduct of a public magistrate who has a freehold right to his office. He is protected from
all intr-vsion of this kind, except where he is guilty of some
open delinquancy. An election for a term of years removes
this indisposition on the part of the public to observe the
course which the administration of justice takes. The judge,
sensible that his actions are the subject of attentionl, and not
knowing to what extent this scrutiDy may be pushed, becomes
more circumspect in his conduct; and as it is difficult to impress two contradictory habits upon any one, whether public
or private individual, his conduct will more readily conform to
that one which is dictated equally by self interest, and by a
regard to duty.
I have not yet adverted to another, and a deeply interesting
question: whether the judges should be elected directly by
the people, or by an intermediate authority. The last is the
plan adopted in the great majority of the American states, as
well as in the government of the Union. But the intermediate
body which appoints, is not the same in all these instances. In
Maiue, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire, the appointment
is made by the governor and council. In eight states, as well
as in the federal government, the executive and senate appoint.
In rather more than one-half of the states, the election is made




CHEAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  477
by the two bra, nches of the legislature. Delaware stands alone
in this respect, for the governor has the sole power of appointmen t.
The great object to be obtained in organizing the courts, is
to select persons who are every way qualified to discharge
the duties.  But the qualities which are requisite in a judge,
are different in many respects from what are demanded in any
other public officer, and( the selection is proportionately more
difficult.  It is not because the ability of the people to make
a fair choice is distrusted, that this power has been dellegated;
it is because they are supposed not to have the opportunity of
forming a correct judgment. The seat of government is the
place where information from all parts of the state is collected,
azrft where abundant materials exist for forming a proper estimate of the qualities of candidates. Members of the legislative body are properly elected in districts in which they reside;
and these districts are of so convenient a size, that the qunafications of the candidates are under the immediate observation
of the electors.  With regard to the governor, whose duties in
mtost of the states are few, it is not necessary that he should
be versed in any particular science, though no species of learning or accomplishment is amiss in any public officer, but adds
greatly to his reputation, and gives illustration to the state
over which he presides. The case of the judges differs materially from both these classes of public officers. The learning
and accomplishnments which are demanded of them are of such
a clibracter, that the great body of the citizens are neither
desirous nor have any interest in acquiring them. As an individual therefore of the soundest judgment and the fairest
intenltions, who has not within his reach the information upon
which he desires to act, deputes another to act for him, so the
Amnerican people, for similar reasons, have delegated to agents
immedia-tely responsible to them the difficult task of selecting
fit persosDS to preside in the courts of justice. That an individual voluntarily avails himself of the intervention and services of another, is proof of his liberty, not of his constraint;
and that a whole people should proceed upon the same obvious
and rattional views, may denote the exercise of the most enlightened freedom.
It must not be imagined, that in every instance where the




478               NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK III.
public authority is delegated, the power of the people is therefore abridged.  Rousseau was mistaken in supposing that,
wherever the people act through the instrumentality of agents,
they are free only during the moments of the election; that
the choice being made, power has departed from. them, not to
be resumed until the return of another election. This may be
true to a greater or less extent in the artificial forms of government, where so many of the magistrates not being elective,
but holding by hereditary title, wield an authority which
counterbalances that of the people, and so effectually controls
public opinion. But in a democratic republic, it is precisely
the reverse. As the principle of reponsibility runs through all
the institutions, no one can escape from it in order to shelter
himself under an independent authority. It is true that, construct government as we will, there will always be a tendency,
in some part or other to elude the control of public opinion.
Bnt where the great body of the institutions is sound, the utmost degree of exactness and theoretical propriety may be a
matter of indifference: like an individual possessing a, filne
constitution, and robust health, and who does not take every
sort of precaution against changes of the weather; a people
in the full possession of free institutions, need not guard
themselves too tenderly against every possible contingency.
The intervention of a jury in all common law trials, renders
such extreme scrupulousness less necessary in the constitution
of the judiciary, than in that of the other departments.
Blit a great revolution has just been effected in one of the
American states. The new constitution of New'York has ordaimlle that the judges of all the courts shall be elected directly by the people. This I regard as one of the greatest
exp-r- iments which has ever been made upon human triature.
This single feature in that constitution, stamps the Contvelntion
whichi fraimed it as the most important which has ever sat in
America since the formation of the federcal constitution. Nor
canl it be viewed as a hasty or visionary scheme, since the
as<s,-r.ihly which planrned it was composed of an unusual iumbe o-t able men; of men -who united, in a high degree, all the
qualities which are necessary to make up the character of
wise aid enlightened st;atesmen: experience, sagacity, and infornimation, and a desire to innovate for the sole purpose of re



CIIAP. Vii.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  479
forming.  No public measure which has been adopted in
America has so powerfully arrested my attention, or given me
more painful anxiety. The conclusion to which I have come,
forming my judgment from the general character of the population, is, that if the experiment does not succeed, the people
will cheerfully retrace their steps. But I am strongly inclined
to thinlk that it will succeed. There is such a thing as making
an institution succeedc, however much it may appear to run
coaunter to the received opinions of the day. This repugnance
may be the only obstacle to success. If the people of New
York persevere in the immense exertions which they have
hitherto made, to educate themselves; and if, in consequence,
a thorough  conviction is imbibed, not mnerely as something
gained from others, but as realized by themselves, that an upright and enlightened administration of justice is indispensable to the protection of their interests, I cannot doubt that
the experinent, will succeed. Mischiefs will exist, and precisely of the same kind as those which now trouble the community: the disposition to centralization; the effort on the part
of political leaders to control public opinion; the substitution
of a constrauctive majority, in place of the real majority. But
with a state of society such as is fast growing up from the
operation of causes which I have referred to, I can easily
conceive that these evils may be warded off as effectually, and
perhaps, more so, than under the old system. So important a
movement can only be regarded, at present, as an experiment;
and it has been most justly remarked of the Americans, that
they possess the faculty of making experiments in government, with less detriment to themselves than any other people.
But any one who was attentive to the circumstances under
which the New York convention assembled, and who watched
throughout the course of the proceedings, must be sensible
that there is a soundness of public opinion in that state which
will prevail upon the people to retract, if the experiment is
not successful. It should be observed, however, that the
same constitutional provision exists in the state of Missis
sippi, and has been in operation for more than ten'years.
Even this experiment is too recent to enable us to pronounce
a decisive opinion upon. The scale upon which it is made
being so much smaller than in the other case, the plan has at



480              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BooK. III.
tracted very little public attention. But if it does succeed in
both these states-if it succeeds in New York alone-it will
probably be adopted throughout the greater number of the
American states.  And I predict that it will then be the
parent of more iimportant changes, in both government and society, than have been brought about by any other single meas
ure.
The theory of thejudiciary cannot be well understood unless we take into consideration the uses of jury trial, an institution which exercises so wide and salutary an influence upon
the administration of justice.
First. The juries act as a check upon the conduct of tbe
judge. He discharges his most important functions not orily
in the presence of, but with the co-operation and assistance, of
his fellow-citizens. The jury are not chosen as in the /Romwn
commonwealth, from a patrician body; they are taken indiscriminately from the great mass of the people. The responsibility is consequently increased; his deportment and actionsS
are not merely observed by the spectator, they are narrowly
watched by those who participate in the trial, and to whom is,
committed the ultimate determination of the issue. Benrjamin
Constant proposed that the juries should be selected from tihe
class of electors: that is, from among those who pay a tea of
from fifty to sixty dollars. And this is now the law. In (Greeat
Britain the qualifications of jurors are also very neaily itbhe
same as those of the electors. But the latter being mauch
more numerous than the French electors, the jury is a, — lore
popular body. In America, the same reasons which left to
the adoption of a liberal rule of suffrage, have also augiaeni ted
the number of persons qualified to act as jurymen.
Second. The institution of the jury introduces the great
bulk of the people to an acquaintance with the prac tic-:l w-0srking of the laws, interests them in their faithful adm inistr
tion, a;nld contributes to train them to an ability for sel-foovernment. "' He only," it has been said, "S is fitted to c;umumacd,
who has learned to obey;" he only is fi. ted to take tlLh~ 1icad,
who has already passed through the subordinate ranks.
Third. The irtervention of the jury helps to mitigate the"
extreme rigor of general rules, to give effect to the import oeC
general maxims, and yet occasionally to make allowance for




CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 481
that infinite variety of shades in human transactions, of which
the laws cannot take cognizanceo
Fourth. Juries stand in the place of impartial spectatdrs,
and are therefore well calculated to act as umpire in settling
controversies among their neighbors. This is an office which
could not be so well performed by a pre-existing tribunal. As
I have already observed, it is an inestimable advantage which
we derive from  a regular judicial establishment, that it extinguishes the motives for private war, the most deplorable of
all the calamities which can visit society. This benefit, however, would not be so perfect, if it were not for the jury, whose
composition is such as to inspire general confidence in the
fairness of all law proceedings.
Fifth. The intervention of a jury gives publicity to trials.
The disuse of the institution on the continent of Europe, consequent on the introduction of the Rioman law, was the cause
why the proceedings in a court of justice became secret. As
long as the "' prodes homines," the jury were a necessary part
of the machinery, judicial investigations were a matter of curiosity to the public. As soon as they were dispensed with,
and the whole evidence was collected in the form. of depositions, legal controversies gave rise merely to a discussion of
technical points, and the public no longer felt an interest in
them. The halls of justice were thenceforth abandoned to the
judge and the advocate. What was once a custom soon becalme a law, and at the present day, trials are for the most
part conducted in secret, throughout the greater part of continental Europe.
The non-introduction, or rather the partial introduction of
the civil law into England, accounts for the preservation of
jury trials there, and for the remarkable publicity which law
proceedings have always had. The fifty fifth section of the
French constitution of 1830, decl}ares that the trial of criminal
causes shall be conducted in lpublic, except in those insltancles
where publicity would be inju ions to decer.cy and good
morals; and the court is bound to announce that as a reason
for sittingin private;-a very remalr;kable state of societ;y, wlten
it was reserved for a constitutional ordinance to provide that
the halls of justice should be thrown open to the ilSiectriou
of the public. But jury trial was ulnkrnown in France until
31




482              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK III.
the revolution; it is no part now of the procedure in civil
cases. Its introductiou in criminal trials is the reason why
they have been rendered public. Not only was the examination in secret, but there could be no cross-examination; for
the only person entitled to ask questions was the judge. It is
but rvelitly that this unnatural custom has been put an end
to, and that counsel on behalf of the prisoner have been permitted to assist in the examination. In Scotland, where the
civil law has from time immemorial constituted the foundation
of the jurisprudence, juries were unknown until 1815, in any
but criminal cases. They were then for the first time introduced as an experiment into one of the civil courts of Edinburgh; and they are now a constituent part of the procedure
in the court of sessions. The practice of conducting trials in
pubolie secures two distinct and very important ends. It operates as a safeguard against corruption, and it prevents the
administration of justice from becoming odious to the people.
In so:ne parts of Europe, the criminal magistrates and officers
are regarded with detestation and horror. They are looked
upon as the instruments of an infernal tyranny; whom the
innocent shun, and even shudder to approach. This is not
the feeling in great Britain or the United States. As the proceedings are conducted openly, the public may be said to take
part in them. The fate of the criminal may be deplored; but
every one feels that he is condemned rather by the public
voice than by the sentence of the judge.
There is one respect in which the institution of jury trial
lhas been disadvantageous. It has caused the rules of evidence
to be more strict than they would have otherwise been. The
manner in which this has been brought about is very easily
explained. The composition of juries originally, and for centuries after the institution took its rise, was such as not to
permit the committing to them any evidence, which might
by possiibility be misinterpreted, or misapplied. Certain rules
were consequently adopted, which shut out every species of
testimony which, in order to be rightly used, would demand a
degree of caution and discrimination which could not be expeetdl in the persons who made up the jury. The evidence
exclulded (and which was denominated incompetent) might
shed abundant light upon all trials, if it were confided to per



CIHAP. vil.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                483
sons of judgment and good sense. But the condition of European society was generally low; and juries necessarily par
took of the same character.  The consequence is that the
rules of evidence have been gradually molded into a system
so exceedingly artificial and complex, that in the endeavor to
correct one mischief, another equally dangerous has been incffrred. A great deal of truth has been shut out, in order to
prevent some falsehood from gaining entrance. And this system, having once taken root, has been continued long after
the state of things which occasioned it has passed away. The
constitution of American society is such that juries are every
way competent to the management of that testimony which is
now declared inadmissible. By the Belgian code, lately pro
mulgated, the only persons who are absolutely excluded from
giving testimony, are the parties, relatives in the direct line,
and husband and wife.
At an early period of society, the human mind does not
dare to tru.:t itself with any but the roughest and the most
general rules. It feels an utter inability to enter into long
inquiries: to compare and to balance a great many items of
testimony, in order to elicit the truth from the whole, instead
of from a part. For fear of doing wrong. it shuts itself up.
within a narrow circle; although the effect is to preclude a
great deal of information and knowledge. But as society advances, the vision becomes more clear and distinct, and the
rules which are framed for the conduct of every department
of life are rendered more free and liberal.
The Livingston code of Louisiana, as originally drawn up,
excluded none as witnesses, except attorneys and catholic
co,,fessors. Parties, however, were admitted with this limitation: their evidence could not be proffered by themselves; but,
must be demanded by the opposite party, by the court, or by
the jury. In England, and New York, efforts have recently
been made to annul the distinction between competency and
credibility: to permit parties and persons interested to testify
in all cases, leaving their credit to be determined by the jury..
And what sensible reason can be given, why parties should be
permitted to testify in one form of proceeding, and not in
another?' in chancery suit, and not -on a common law trial? 
When the grand jury ("jury d'accusation") was ntroducedi




484              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK III.
in France, the experiment for many years was deemed absolutely hopeless. It was found impossible to make the members understand the distinction, between the finding of a true
bill and a sentence of conviction. They supposed that the
first involved the last, and often refused to find bills where
there was the stron est "prima facie" evidence of guilt. No
such misapprehension exists among the English or American
grand juries. Still less would there be any misunderstanding
with an English or American traverse jury, as to the relative
weight of the testimony, some part of which was unexceptionable, and another open to examination; for the daily
transactions of life, their ordinary business avocations, thoroughly initiate them into this manner of viewing and employ-:ing testimony. I think there can be little doubt, that in no
long time, a more liberal system will be established, and that
every one will be convinced that it conduces to a much more,enlightened and satisfactory administration of justice.
The admission of the testimony of all those persons Who
are at present excluded (and I know of no case which should
form an exception) would diminish the number of suits, and
in those which were tried, would cause the truth to be elicited
more promptly and successfully. Greater solemnity would be
imparted to all judicial proceedings, when the evidence of
persons who knew all about the transactions was thoroughly
sifted, instead of applying, as is now the case, to witnesses who
know very imperfectly or only by piece-meal. If a defendant
in a criminal prosecution were in all instances examined, real
delinquents would feel more terror of the law, and innocent
persons would have greater respect for it.
Whether the role of unanimity, or that of a majority, should
prevail -in the finding of a verdict, is a question which has
been much debated in France, since,he inJtroduetion of jury
trial in 1789. The rule of the majority has been const[antly
adopted there. By the law of 1789, this majority  was fixed at.i. By that of 1791, at 9 3, and by th;at of 1835, at 7   5.
And recently a proposition for another change has been dis*cussed in the house of deputies, but I am not informed what
the result has been. a. Isalmbert says, if the English rule of
unanliility bad been adopted in Franee, such imen as Batilly,
Lavoisier, and Malesherbes, would never have been condemnedo




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  485
The greater part of the judgments of the revolutionary tribunal were made by a fraction. M. Fermot has calculated, that
where the majority is 7: 5, the probability of error is 1: 4,
indifferently in favor of and against the accused. Where it is
8: 4, the chance of error is 1: 8, and where unanimity is required, it is 1: 8000. These are calculations which should
make Englishmen and Americans prize the rule of unanimity
even more than they have done. For although in the even
tenor of ordinary times, there should be as little probability
of error under the French as under the English and Amnerican
rule, yet, when the elements of society are greatly disturbed,
and the minds of men are heated by party spirit, the jury,
and the unanimity of the jury are the shield of the innocent.
Unanimity is attended with this advantage: it compels to
more discussion and deliberation among the jury. The verdict
which in practice is very generally the verdict of a majority,
is the result of a more patient examin.ation, and is therefore more likely to be unexceptionable. In Scotland, the rule
of unanimity prevails in civil, and yet not in criminal cases:
the reverse of what one would suppose should be the case.
But the employment of the jury (composed of fifteen) in criminal trials, dates very far back, and was a distinguishing feature of Scotch institutions; whereas, the jury of twelve, in
civil causes, was copied directly from  England; the court in
which the experiment was first made was presided over by an
English barrister, and nothing seemed so natural as to establish the English rule of unanimity.
One of the greatest difficulties which attend the administration of the law, is the exceedingly technical character which
the systeumfhas acquired. This is the chief of the popular ob
jections which are ever made to it, and I am persuaded that
it had great influence in carrying forward the plan of-judicial
reform in New York. The objection may be ill conceived, and
yet the reform may prove to be salutary. For let us anal1yze
our ideas. Does this character of technicality arise firom the
fact that the legal profession have been in the habit of Ibllowing a principle, or has it arisen from an adherence to precedents. If the first is the case, the law differs in no reshpect
from any other pursuit in which the exercise of mind is demanded, from the practice of medicine down to the most in



486              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BooKT III,
considerable of the mechanic arts. One cannot conceive of
administering justice in a civilized community, except upon
some previously established rules. But this difficulty presents
itself: that where a science deals so extensively, and yet so
much in detail, with the practical interests of men, as is the
case with the law, principles which were at first broad, and
clearly distinguishable, become in the course of time exceedingly ramified, and our distinctions are then so fine, that it is
almost impossible to found a conclusion simply upon a rule of
abstract justice.  When this is the case, a new course is
adopted, as subsidiary to finding the principle. The question
then raised is, what does human experience as tested by a
great number of adjudications, prove to be the best mode of
applb ing the law, in those countless instances where the rule
of right in the abstract seems to be indifferent?  As jurispradenuce is eminently an experimental science, it is very important to ascertain to what extent a system of practice contributes to the public weal.  Now, in innumerable instances,
precedents are looked to, because the abstract principle is so
shadowy that it cannot be explored, and yet it is of infinite
consequence, if we can, to cling to some rule which has a near
affinity to a principle, while at the same time, a number of
years of experience may bring the matter to a test, and enable
the legislator to ascertain whether any and what clhuages will
be advantageous. The frequent revisions of the laws in the
American states is one effort to attain this end. And there is
a further plan whiah would recommend that it should be malde
the duty of the judges to make annual reports as to the working of specitied parts of the system.
In administering this technical science then, the inquiry is,
are we following a principle, or only a precedent?  If the
former, how do we obtain the principle?  When it, is asked,
is it right to murder or steal? the answer is plain enough. If
it is asked, ought B to pay A a sum of money he borrowed
from  him? the answer also is plain. But the instances are
without number, where our principles become so dimr  tat we
are warned to pursue a new direction in order to find them.
We are enabled to discover what is useful, by knowing what
is right, andl we are enabled to find out what is right, by understaDding what is truly useful. The two are never disjoined.




CHAP. VIi.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                487
But whatever may be the cause of the exceeding technicality
of the law, whether it arises from the adoption of principles,
or the adoption of precedents, or from both together, as is undoubtedly the case, there is no possible way of avoiding it;
nor is there any one science, profession, or art, to which the
same difficulty does not adhere. It is more apparent iin the
case of the law than in any other calling, because the science
is applied in such infinite detail to the actions of men, and
because this application is to so great an extent the subject of
popular observation. That is to say, the very thing which
stamps upon the law its character of excellence and utility, its
application to the infinitely diversified affairs of society, is the
foundation of the objection, and the open and public administration of it is what gives occasion to the complaint. If the
law were applied as sparingly as it is in despotic countries, it
would lose this character of complexity immediately. It is in
proportion as civilization advances, and the institutions become
free, that our knowledge becomes both more full and mnore
minute, and that every profession or art which springs from
knowledge becomes more difficult in the managemenft. This
is doubtless a wise dispensation of Providence: that in proportion as the temptation to abuse our power or our liberty
increases, new bulwarks may be raised up to restrain our actions.
But in what I have now said, I do not mean to be understood
that a great deal may not be done to free the law from the
artificial character which it has acquired. On the contrary,
I am persuaded that a field is here opened, in which wise and
judicious minds may perform inestimable good for society.
The abolition of the distinction between competency and credibility, would go a great way. And the abolition of the various
forms of action at common law, and the substitution of one
simple form, as in chancery proceedings-these two alone, would
sweep away a multitude of refined and artificial rules which
now incumber the practice. But what I do mean to say is (and
I know the exceeding difficulty of propounding or conceiving
two things which appear to conflict, although, in reality, one
only qualifies the other), that do as we will, make what disposition we please of jurisprudence, it is absolutely impossible,
even if it were desirable, to free it, from its character of tech



488              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOK III.
nicality. This is a quality which will forever belong to it, so
long as it has any pretension to the character of a science, and
so long as it is understandingly and uprightly administered.
If we suppose all our present legal institutions destroy ed, the
courts abolished, the books of law burned, society a mere
"tabula rosa" to begin again, new tribunals established, with
directions to have no reference to any existing- elementary
works or precedents, a system would nevertheless, in process
of time, grow up, quite as technical as that which now exists.
One single circumstance, and yet one which cannot be dispensed with, would insure this: to wit, the commanding that
the decisions of all the higher tribunals shall be reduced to
writing and published. English law never assumed a decidedly technical character, until this important safeguard was
interposed between the courts and the public. - And what, in
the case supposed, will be the consequence of this admirable
practice, independently of its operation as a check upon the
courts?-that the minds of the profession will immediately fall
into a train of generalization.  Certain futldamental principles
will be grasped, a classification of them  will be made, as applicable to different departments of the law, other princilples
subordinate to them will be seized, principles within principles,
as in all other sciences; and yet the last not evolved from the
first, but only classed under them. after the induction is made.
The amount of business will increase, the pile of precedents
will also increase, an abundance of elementary works will be
written, embodying the decisions, and rendering the law lmore
scientific in form, and yet more approachable and more intelligible to the profession. The same process will be gone
through as heretofore.  A fabric will be erected, vast., comnplicated, and full of labyrinths to the ignorant, and yet differing in no one respect from any other system  of knowledge,
except in its more extensive application to the actual business
of men.
For what are technical rules? It is of the utmost importance
to distinguish between what is artific(ial and what is technical.
Every rule which is artificial is technical;  but very mally are
technical without being artificial.  A technical rule, theni, is
nothing more than a general principle. When we begin with
it, in the case of A or B, there is nothing intricate about it;




CHAP. vrI.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                489
it is more like a simple statement of the circumstances of the
case. But the case of A or B, soon comes to be the case of
thousands, each varying in some particulars. Then, our difficulty commences. The mind is compelled to look further, to
extend its principles more and more, and yet at the same time
to be minute and ever on the watch in its examination. As
the research will embrace objects entirely new, a new class of
ideas will be formed, and new names will be given to them.
Or, as is very commonly the case, old and well understood
words will be used, and yet the connection in which they are
found, although the -most natural imaginable, will instantly
give them a character of abstruseness. For instance, the
words remainder and condition are ordinary English terms,
familiarly used in common life. And yet what an infinite fund
of learning is attached to them, of which there is no possible
way to get rid, without encountering difficulties infinitely more
formidable than those which are complained of. No man not
a physician can understand the language of a physician. No
man not a mathematician, or chemist, or political economist,
can understand them. Nay, no man not a mechanician, a horticulturist, or agriculturist, can go but a very little way along
with those who have devoted themselves to these pursuits, and
have made them the subject of direct application to the affairs
of liife. The language of every one of these persons is highly
technical; because having bent their minds upon one particular pursuit, they have obtained new ideas, have learned to
classity them, and have given them appropriate names. How,
then, should there be such exceeding difficulty in understanding why the law is, and forever must be, a technical science?
No one can feel a greater interest than myself in seeing what
is artificial in the law swept away; but no one is more sensible
of our utter inability to give it any other character than that
of a technical science.
The law applied to land titles in Virginia, and to the military districts in Ohio, is a remarkable example how vain all
our efforts must be to communicate to any branch of jurisprudence a phraseology which shall be other than technical. This
part of the law is almost exclusively the creation of the courts
of Kentucky. It grew up when these courts were in their
infancy, when there was no previously accumulated learning




490              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK III.
to help to give it a technical air, and in a state which was less
disposed than any other to adopt any part of the refined system wi'I,1prevailed in England, and other states. It is the
only state, I believe, in which there existed a positive prohibition, not only to the reference to English reports as authority,
but ag Aist reading them at all in court. The state of society
was simple; the community was composed of farmers; the
foundation of titles was different from what it was anywhere
else; so that it could borrow no assistance from the real-property law of Great Britain. Everything was favorable to the
building of a system which, if possible, should be free from
technicality. But it was found absolutely impossible to effect
this. The simplest elements of title, a warrant, an entry, and a
survey, familiarly apprehended by all the settlers, and called
by those names as soon as the process of legal investigation
commenced, were recognized in every case, and yet in cases so
endlessly diversified, that a system of classification and of rules
became speedily necessary in order that a court of justice
should not be converted into the bed of Procustes. For technical rules are adopted, not to obstruct, but to further the
regular and just administration of the laws. This system, so
perfectly unique in its principles, and yet reduced to so much
precision, is a monument of the wisdom and ability of the
courts of Kentucky. It has now nearly performed its office,
that of settling land titles, and will hereafter be regarded, by
those who are fond of looking into the history of laws and
institutions, as a remarkable instance of the fertility of the
humnan mind, and of its capacity for framing general rules,
even where the materials are the most scanty.
I can imagine one way in which the popular institutions of
the United States may succeed in modifying, perhaps in entirely overthrowing, the vast system of technical jurisprudence
which is now in use. The profession of the law may come to
be regarded as an aristocratic institution. The path to it may
be laid open, by admitting every one who pleases to practice,
as is the case in some of the states with the medical profession.
This by itself would effect very little; for so long as a learned
and enlightened system was upheld by the courts, it must be
appealed to by all practitioners; and the license to plead
would be an empty privilege. The lawyer must still show his




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               491
ability, in order to succeed. But in addition to this arrangement the judges may be selected, not from the class of jurists,
but like members of the legislature, from the citizens indiscriminately. This last movement would at once sweep away
all use of precedents; for it would be impossible to construct
them. The law would cease to be a science, or a branch of
knowledge. The administration of justice would be likened
to that of a Mohammedan judge, who founds his judgments
upon the circumstances of each particular case as it arises,
who professes to be guided by the dictates of good sense
merely; and whose appreciation therefore of the value of experience, as well as his notions of right and wrong, are the'
miost crude imaginable.
But first, there is less probability that the profession in the
United States, will be regarded as an aristocratic institution,
than there is in any other country. Lawyers do not compose
a distinct corps. They are not collected in one great city, as
is pretty much the case in England and Scotland. They are
dispersed over the whole country; and are not distinguished
by any privileges from the general mass of citizens. I shall
take occasion, hereafter, to notice more particularly this very
remarkable feature of American society.
Second, as regards the scientific character of the law, and
the use of precedents; or what is the same thing, the appointment of persons to administer justice, who shall be capable of
analyzing their ideas, of forming an intelligible exposition of
their judgments, and then causing their opinions to be recorded; there is no way of dispensing with these things, unless
we resolve to go back to a state of society different in so many
respects from the high civilization which now exists. We
desire to free the law from its technicality, and we remove all
check upon the judge. We wish to make the principles of law
familiar to all the citizens, and we adopt a procedure which
forbids that there shall be any principles whatever. The
Mohammedan judge does as he lists; he acknowledges the
authority of no rule, nor the value of any experience. He is
absolved from all regular control; and the public have no
insight into the motives or reasons of his judgment. What
we term precedents, are in reality a great volume of human
experience; and it is upon the wisdom which is gained by




492              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK MII.
experience that free institutions are built, and by which. they
must be preserved. Indeed the system of precedents is peculiarly adapted to a democratic commonwealth, which seeks
to establish equality, and demands that the same rules, wherever applicable, shall be applied to all citizens equally.
The absence of all reports of adjudged cases, was a great
defect in Roman law. It led first to a nearly arbitrary exposition of the law by the pretors. Second, to a recourse to the
opinions of the lawyers, as to what the law was. The edicts
of the pretor are an example of the first. This officer, on entering upon his duties (and the election was annual) published
an edict, or little code, containing the rules by which he intended to be governed in the decision of cases. It was understood that he could not depart from the enactments of the
twelve tables; but the power of expounding the laws opens a
wide field to construction, when it is not guarded by the force
of precedents. The meaning of those laws was constantly tortured, and all sorts of subtleties invented, in order to introduce
new rules of interpretation. The prator could not depart from
the provisions of his own edict: this was inviolable during
the year he was in office. But this was no security for the
permanence and stability of the law under succeeding pretors.
And it was not until the time of Hadrian that a perpetual edict
was established.  When I say was established, I mean only to
state the fact, and not to engage the reader in the unprofitable
controversy, whether this was the result of a positive decree
of that emperor, or was brought about by the silent operation
of other causes. The English common law was never rendered
authoritative by an act of parliament. Hugo, in his history
of the Roman law, declares that the annual edicts of the pretors, afforded the means of harmonizing the legislation with
the spirit of the times. It was one step, but a most dangerous
one in that direction. The spirit of the times could not be so
fluctuating as to require a new edict every year; and the Roman legislature was constantly in session. The reports of
adjudged cases, which constitute the crowning glory of English
and American jurisprudence, perform this office, without opening the door too wide to construction. The respect for adjudged
cases becomes a habit: they are of general notoriety to the
profession, because they are in print, and any eminent depart



CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                493
ure from them is viewed with extreme jeolousy; while on the
other hand, as no judgment is absolutely binding (except in a
few specified cases), unless between parties and privies, no
positive impediment is thrown in the way to prevent a reconsideration of the principle in future cases. The collection of
the opinions of eminent civilians, was the next contrivance to
help the defect, arising from the want of law reports; but it
was inadquate to this purpose. A compilation of this kind
will cover an exceedingly small part of the ground, comprehended within the list of adjudged cases. The Pandects or
Digest was a work of this character, but it afforded a very
feeble light, in the administration of the laws, compared with
the English and American reports, and the learned treatises
which are founded upon them. The last not only announce a
greater number of leading principles, but these are so ramified
as to shed light upon a still greater number of subordinate
ones.








BOOK IV.
CHAP TER  I.
ON WHIAT IN AMERICA IS SOMETIMES TERM/IED THE VETO
POWTER OF THE STATES.
IT seems difficult, at first view, to assign any reason completely satisfactory, why the judiciary should be the final
arbiter in determining upon the constitutionality of the laws.
For if we say that the courts are the expounders of the constitution, it may be answered, that the enactment of a law,
involving a constitutional objection, is itself an exposition of
the constitution, and that if the judges by repeated adjudications decide one way, the legislature by repeated enaetalents,
reaffirming its own construction, may decide another. The
difficulty does not consist in attributing to the judges the
right to decide, since whenever a constitutional question is
involved, the court must give a construction; it consists in
making that tribunal paramount and supreme. It is perfectl5
correct to say, that the judiciary is invested with the power
of applying the laws, but whether it has a right superior
to the legislature in expounding them, does not appear so
clearly.  Nevertheless it is this very power of appl ing the
laws, distinguishable as it is from that of expounding them,
which has enabled the courts to assert and maintain the
exclusive right of expounding them, and caused them  to
be regarded as the natural and ultimate arbiter in all such
questions. The legislature declare the construction of the
constitution; the judges not only make declaration of their
construction, but in addition to this, they carry that dc3clara



496             NATURE AND TENDENCY                [ BOOK IV.
ration into execution.  For the various executive officers,
marshals, sheriffs, etc., together with the "posse comitatus,"
are appended to the courts, not to the legislature.  Now it is
plain that that tribunal which is able to decide the law, and
also to carry its judgment.into immediate execution, must
ultimately acquire the  supremacy.  When, therefore, the
question is asked why is the judiciary the tribunal of dernier resort?  The obvious answer is, that its office as such
is the natural and necessary consequence of the manner in
which the government is constituted.  The question confounds two entirely different things, the theoretical propriety
of the arrangement with the plain matter of fact that it does
exist. Even if we were to admit that the first is open to
debate, upon the second the door to discussion is closed.
The legislature in America bears to the courts the same
resemblance which the present national government has to
the old confederation.  The present government acts upon
persons, the latter acted for the most part upon states only.
And the reason why this last did so act, was that (with a
sinigle exception) it was unprovided with courts to enforce
the execution of its resolves. The national legislature now
in existence, like the state legislatures, passes laws affecting
the community at large, and the judiciary executes its decisions upon all the individuals in the land. The courts never
arrogate to themselves the imposing authority of making general declarations. They act only in detail, and yet it is the
exercise of this more humble duty which has rendered them
the undisputed arbiters in constining the constitution. -Humility and modesty in privrate life, often procure a high
authority and reputation for those who practice them; and
it is fortunate when governments can avail themseives of
the same salutary tendencies, in order to strenlgthein the
authority of the laws, and to maintain order and tranquility
in the state.
Notwithstanding the right to which I have referred sometimes affords matter for dislutation in America, (for although
discu:ssion is the proper office of the understandiing, its place
is oft:'re  usurped by the feelings), Jet nothing has struck foreigniers with more admiration than the firm establishment,
and general recognition of the principle in Amuerica. It is




CHAP. I. ]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 497
a necessary consequence of the introduction of free institutions. For a constitutional chart is itself an act of legislation. It is the supreme law of the land. To determine therefore upon the constitutionality of a law, is not more improper,
than the construction of any other enactment in which a question of constitutionality is not involved. It does not place
the judge higher than the lawmaker; it only maintains the
supremacy of the sovereign legislature, the people.
And if the original propriety of this arrangement should
be qluestioned (its existence as a matter of fact being admitted), it may be answered, that all our knowledge is more distinctly apprehended when it is in the concrete, than when it is
clothed with an abstract and general form. The legislature
view the law in its general features. The courts deal with it
in detail, and in its application to a particular case. It is not
because the judges have mental powers superior to the legislature, that the duty of deciding is devolved upon them; it is
because the form  which the question assumes, distinct, and
unembarrassed by any extraneous matter, facilitates the process of analysis, and it is by this process alone that we are
able to give precision to our ideas, and certainly to our conclusions.
But this power of deciding constitutional questions has a
much wider application than I have yet supposed. The state
courts decide upon the validity of state laws in reference to
their own constitutions.   the courts of the union do the
same in reference to the federal constitution. But the su
preme court of the United States is also the tribunal of last
resort, for determining the validity of state laws, whenever
these conflict with the federal constitution. And this, also, is
a consequence of the structure of the government. The introduction of the perfect form of confederate government, its
substitution in the place of the imperfect form which formerly
existed, has produced a eorresponding change in the constitution of the courts, and given a new direction to the exercise
of judicial power. As the laws of the union do not operate
upnon statles, but upon individuals, the decisions of the courts.
do not <ct upon governments, but upon persons.
One of the most striking features in the American governmeat, is the double system of representation which it con32




498             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK IV.
tains. It is a great achievement to introduce the elective
principle into all the departments of a consolidated government; to render the executive and judiciary, as well as the
legislature, elective. But the American is not a consolidated,
but a federal government.  Separation has, therefore, been
made between the general and local interests.  Each have
been deposited in distinct governments, and the principle of
representation has been established in both. The states are
not mere municipal corporations, deriving their existence and
franchises from  the central government.  Their separate
jurisdiction is secured by the same instrument which created
the confederacy, and is therefore equally fortified against attack. It is the independent character of these two classes of
government, which has caused some eminent minds in America
to doubt whether the judicial power of the union extends to
ithe determination of the validity of state laws, when they
conflict with tho federal constitution. It has been supposed
-that there could be no arbiter in the case; and that the states,
inay, each of them separately, must necessarily possess a veto
upon the decisions of the national tribunal.
Mr. flume, in a short essay "On Some Remarkable Cus-.toms,-" has stated as a singular fact, that the legislative:authority in the iRoman commonwealth resided in two distinct
assemblies: the comitia of the centuries, and the comit'ia of
the tribes, acting independently, and not concurrently; each.having a veto upon the acts of the other, and a right to carry
any measure by its single authority. And this example has
been relied upon, together with other views, by the able
author of "New Views of the Constitution," in support of the
veto power of the states. But the American government is a
governmen t; "sui generis," and it is not safe to resort to other
political systems for the purpose of finding analogies. Admitting the fact to be as stated by Mr. Hume, there are some,very important differences between the Roman and the Ainerican plans. The two comitia were parts of one and the same:governmenUlt, and not institutions of two distinct governments.,Conquering Rome annihilated all the confederacies which
once existed in Italy,'the Tuscan, Volscian, &c., and substitu-.ted in their place one homogeneous government. Second, the.two legislatures were not distinct bodies in the same sense as




CHAP. I. ]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               499
the English houses of lords and commons are; but were composed of nearly the same persons: only in one, the vote was
collected by classes, and in the other " per capita." Third,
they did not always preside over the same interests. A similar organization of the legislative power has taken place in
every country where civilization has made slow progress, and
where the melting down of the various classes of society into
one body has been the work of time. In England, at one
period, the nobility, burgesses, and clergy, taxed their own
order separately. Those assemblies did not act concurrently,
as is the practice now; each voted separately, and did not
wait for the concurrence or disapproval of the others to its
own bills.
But inasmuch as the two IRoman comitia did frequently vote
upon the same subject matter, upon the question of peace or
war, for instance, there is a difficulty even greater than in the
case just referred to. There is no part of history which is
more obscure, than is the constitutional history of Rome.
Things which were plain enough to contemporary writers,
which involved no contradiction whatever and which are therefore not related with precision, but even with carelessness, are
full of perplexity at the present day; nay, were so at the
time Livy wrote.  That two legislative assemblies should
exist, each possessing an independent juristiction upon the
same matter; and each therefore armed with authority to
undo immediately whatever had been resolved by the other,
involves so glaring an inconsistency, that we are compelled to
believe that there must be something further in the case
which, if it could be seized, would at once dispel the difficulty. Such a theory of government, if there were nothing
further, would lead to absolute inaction. The vote of the last
assembly ought to decide the matter; but there could be no
last, if each was absolutely independent, and could incessantly
revoke the bills passed by the other. On the other hand, if
there was a stopping place, the vote in the last decided the
matter, and gave to that body alone the supreme legislative
authority.
We know that the plebeian assembly were at first confined
to legislate about matters which concerned their own order.
Afterward they procured the privilege of deliberating, and




500             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK IV.
deliberating only, on all matters which affected the general
interests. If prior to 372, a proposition was discussed in both
assemblies, and *was carried by the vote of the centuries in
contradiction to that of the tribes, it could hardly be said that
those two bodies acted independently. For the proceedings in
the first were only like the proceedings in one of those voluntary conventions which are so common in America. It might
deliberate and resolve; but it had no power to carry any
measure into effect. It had in other words no real power of
legislation. This constitution of government is a very comion thing even in modern societies. The French tribunate
in the Abbe Sieyes constitution, and which existed for several
years, was merely a deliberative body. So also the Danish,
Prussian, and Russian councils deliberate, but do not enact.
A still more remarkable example is afforded by the Germanic
legislature. It is composed of three chambers, the princes,
electors, and deputies of the towns. But the last, although it
may discuss, is never admitted to vote. An example on a
small scale is exhibited in the American congress, where the
delegates from the territories enjoy the full privilege of debate, but have no right to vote on any question.
In the course of time, the two Roman assemblies shifted
their positions. The'popular body which before met to deliberate only, acquired complete legislative authority: precisely
as would be the case in the Germanic confederation, if free
institutions were introduced, when the deputies of the people
would exercise the entire legislative power, leaving it free to
the other orders, to meet and deliberate if they chose. If this
revolution were to take place, if the art of printing did not
exist,, or through some calamity or other, all public records
and histories were lost, or mutilated, the same puzzle would
exist as in the case of the Roman comitia, and from the same
causes. Suppose that the same catastrophe should happen to
American institutions, and that two or three thousand years
henlce, some one were to read this passage in the very able
spteech of Mr. Calhoun on his resolutions: " the powers not
deli-gated are reserved, against the judiciary as well as against
the other departments."  It no copy of the constitution could
be fo-tnd, nor any document which shed light upon the subjeet, he might suppose not only that the proposition was true,




CHAP..]j        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                501
which it undoubtedly is, but that it proved the existence of a
veto power on the part of the states, even as against the determination of the supreme court of the union. But with a
copy of the constitution in his hand, he would find that that
court was by irresistible implication clothed with the power of
deciding upon the constitutionality of state laws; and that
what he had taken to be the statement of a fact, was the statement of the view of an individual.
But the most remarkable circumstance is, that in the debates
which recently took place, the existence of a veto power, on
the part of the states, was taken for granted. Its advocates
did not confine themselves to showing that there would have
been propriety in so organizing the government. They asserted that its existence was an undoubted fact. And such is
the exceeding fertility of the human mind, not merely in finding reasons for what it conceives ought to be, but in converting its conceptions into reality, that numbers of people in one
part of the union, who had never dreamed of the existence of
such a power, began to hesitate. It may be allowable to doubt,
where one is obliged to search in the dark caverns of antiquity
for materials to guide our judgments. But the institutions of
the United States are open to the apprehension of every one.
If what they ought to be admits of discussion, what they
really are is matter of history.
The extreme novelty, not to say the alarming tendency, of
such a power in a country where infinite pains have been taken
to establish regular government, compelled those who advocated it* to assume that congress were bound to call a convention to amend the constitution, whenever a single state dissented to a law as unconstitutional. In this way the mischief
of civil war, which would otherwise be inevitable, was sought
to be avoided. But in order to attain this end, the assumption went still further. It was insisted, that when the convention assembled, the proposition should be, not to insert by way
of amendment the limitation upon the power of the federal
government which a single state had contended for, but to insert the power claimed and actually exercised by congress,
with the consent of every state but one. Every one will per* "New Views of the Constitution," by John Taylor; and Calhoun's
speech, 1832-3.




502             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
ceive the immense difference which is made by only changing
the form in which the question is put. In the one way, the
constitution will be amended by a very small minority of the
states; in the other, it can only be effected by a very large
majority. Now admitting that congress may sometimes transcend its powers, and that this way of proceeding would arrest
it; the inquiry properly is, not what would be the effect in one or
two instances, but what would be the effect in all time to come,
and in the numberless instances in which the states, encouraged to resistance, would succeed in paralyzing the operations
of the government? Is there not, so far as we proceed upon
any known principle of human nature, infinitely more security
in the vote of a majority of congress and three-fourths of the
states, than in a very small minority of both? We may admit
that there are certain dormant powers residing in every community, and that the right to resist an intolerable tyranny is one
of them; but this does not permit us openly to recognize the
existence of a wild excess of power, and to insert it as a standing provision in the constitution of the government.
The mode of calling a convention to amend is one of the
parts of the constitution which is least liable to misinterpretation. It can only be assembled with the consent of two thirds
of the states, or two-thirds of both houses of congress. The
effect of the doctrine in question would be to give this power
to a single state. Not that this view would be taken by its
advocates, for our own arbitrary conceptions are able to give
shape and form to almost anything. It would still be insisted
that two-thirds of congress, or two-thirds of the state legislatures must concur in calling a convention. But if two-thirds
or a majority in either case were convinced of the constitutionality of the law in existence, it is plain that a convention
could only be assembled by the authority of the single dissenting state. For there is no way in which we can conceive
of a legislative body acting, at any rate of its having a right
to act, but by persuasion of the correctness and lawfulness of
what it does. To assert that it is bound to call a convention,
against its most settled convictions, is to assert that it is
bound to call one upon compulsion. ]Nor can any human ingenuity make it otherwise.
It is an established maxim in American institutions, that




CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                503
the government can no more concede an ungranted privilege,
than exercise an ungranted power. To concede a privilege is
to communicate a power; and is guarded with the same caution as the usurpation of authority. If it had been intended
that a convention should be assembled, not only when twothirds of congress were convinced of the expediency of so doing, but upon the complaint of a single state, the constitution
would have said so in plain words. There cannot be a shadow
of doubt upon the subject. The two cases are totally distinguishable from each other. Each affords a specific occasion
for acting: and to suppose that the one was intended to involve the other, would argue a confounding of two things,
unnecessary, improbable in the extreme, and full of mischief.
But to have inserted in plain language the provision contended
for, would have been so startling, that every member of the
convention would have recoiled from it. Strange as it may
seem, therefore, there is no possible way of claiming the existence of any such power, except upon the ground that it has
been absolutely omitted in the co stitution. It is impossible
to defend usurpation by law, but it is often possible to argue
plausibly against law.
Not only has the constitution forbidden the exercise of the
veto power, by refusing to grant it, and by prescribing a mode
of amendment absolutely inconsistent with, and repugnant to
its exercise; it has closed the door upon all controversy, by
creating a tribunal which shall be the ultimate judge in all
controversies between the state and the federal governmeuts.
On the 13th of June, 1787, in the convention which framed the
constitution of the United States, it was moved by Mr. Randolph, and seconded by Mr. Madison, that the jurisdiction of
the national judiciary shall extend to all questions which involve the national peace and harmony. The resolution was
passed, and was embodied by the committee which had charge
of it, in the precise and definite language in which the power
is clothed in the third and sixth articles of the constitution as
ratified. Now I do not pretend to say, that a doubt may not
still be raised; for it is possible for an ingenious mind to doubt
everything. But when I observe that the constitution, and
the laws made in pursuance of it, are declared the supreme
law of the land, anything in the constitutions and laws of the




504              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [3OO00 IV.
states to the contrary notwithstanding: and when I observe
that the exclusive right to expound the law in these cases is
conferred upon a federal tribunal, I am compelled to believe
that there can be at least no solid foundation for doubt.
The celebrated author of the Virginia resolutions and report,
admits that the supreme court of the union is the tribunal of
last resort, whenever the validity of a state law asserting the
existence of an unconstitutional power in the states is called
in question. The construction of that clause, which prohibits
the state from issuing bills of credit, etc., he declares is referred:to that tribunal. This is in effect a surrender of the whole,ground of argument; for the prohibitions on the power of the
states are as much a part of the constitutional compact, as are
the limitations on the power of the federal government. And
if it be true that, in all questions which relate to the boundary
of power between the two governments, there is no common
umpire, and neither has the right to decide, there is no reason
for asserting supreme authority to the court in the one case,
which does not equally exist in the other.
There is an interesting problem in government, which may
be thus stated:: when is it that two political powers in the state
being set up, one against the other, their mutual rivalry will
lead to a just balance of authority, and conduce to a successful administration of public affairs? And the answer is, that
this adjustment of the parts of government will be safe, whenever these two rival authorities are compelled to act concurrently, and when they are controlled by some common authority, which is superior to both. The various departments, the
legislative, executive and judiciary, have rival interests; but
they are amenable to one common power, and they co-operate
in carrying out one plan of government.  So on a smaller
scale, the court and the jury are set up against each other,
with power in each to overrule, "ad infinitum," the determination of the other. But they are bound by one common ligament to the people, and combine in administering the same
laws. The Roman tribunate may be mentioned as an example
of the same class. It was, like the senate and the "comitia,"
a constituent part of one and the same government.
In th'e artificial forms of government, only one of these conditions is complied with; the threa departments conspire in
the administration of the same system, but their responsibility




CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                505
to a common constituent is very imperfect. And the consequence is, that one usurps nearly all power, or an interminable conflict exists between them. In proportion as the popular
power is raised, and pure monarchy is transformed into limited or constitutional monarchy, the responsibility becomes
direct and positive, and the departments are'more easily retained within their respective spheres. The walks of private
life afford a similar analogy. How is it that so many thousand
individuals, all armed with propensities and desires which constantly Stimulate them to run counter to the general interests,
are so restrained as to produce anything like tolerable tranquillity in society. The tribunal of public opinion, which represenrts those interests, controls them all, and produces regularity of behavior in those numberless instances which the laws
would never reach.
It would have been wonderful then if the American people,
after establishing free institutions, had so far spoiled the
original design as to create a counterbalancing force to the
system, in the sectional and particular interests of one member
of the confederacy. Circumstances may occur, which would
rnder it meritorious in a state to remonstrate, and to take
high ground, in order to induce a change in the public measures. But it must be a very extraordinary case-a case which
must make the law for itself-which would justify civil war.
There may be secrets in public as well as in private life, and
a state which resists the laws of the union, may calculate on
the length it may go, in order to procure a compromise, and
may at bottom determine to go no further. But the statesman
who should draw the sword, if compromise failed, would incur
the transcendant ignominy, as well as merit, of going into
battle without his shield. No man has a right to be brave at
the expense of his patriotism.
In the Germanic confederation, there was a tribunal in some
respects resembling the supreme court of the United States.
The chamber of Wetzlar, or Westphalia, possessed exclusive
jurisdiction in deciding upon disputes between members of the
empire. But it had no power to execute its decisions. The
laws operated not upon individuals, but upon states; and a
sentence of the supreme judicial tribunal had no higher effect.
The consequence was that it became necessary to resort to




506              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
force, and to this end the empire was divided into circles, the
entire military force of which was at the disposal of the emperor, to enable him  to execute the sentence of the court
against a refractory member. Under the new constitution of
1815, a different organization took place.  If the rights of
one state are invaded by another state, the injured party must
choose one of three members of the diet, selected by the
defendant; or if the defendant neglect to select, the diet is
bound to name them. And the court of final resort, in the
state of the member thus chosen, decides the case. And if
the party against whom the judgment is pronounced does not
obey, a military force is resorted to, to coerce submission.
There does not appear to have been any judicial tribunal,
either under the old or the new constitution, for the purpose
of settling disputes between the states and the confederacy.
The diet, or national legislature, seems to have possessed this
power. The American system stands alone amid the institutions of the world. And although it was a natural consequence of the adoption of the perfect form of confederation,
yet as this species of government is a work of the greatest
refinement, and the result of a very high state of civilization,
the organization of the national judiciary may be pronounced
one of the greatest achievements which political science has
made.
There is a tribunal of another European state, which it is
curious to notice, in consequence of its novel mode of procedure, although it is never called to decide upon the conflicting
rights of different governments. The court of errors, or of
cassation, in France, is the highest judicial tribunal in the
kingdom. And the principle on which, until recently, it proceeded was this: if the judgment of an inferior court was reversed, the case was sent back to be tried again, If the court
below persisted in its error, and the cause was again appealed,
and the court above reaffirmed the judgment before pronouncd,
it was sent back a second time. But if the inferior court still
persevered in its error, the decree of the court of cassation no
longer afforded the governing rule. The legislature was then
appealed- to, to settle the law, by a declaratory act. But the
absurdity of the scheme, the temptation which it held out to
the local tribunals to resist the judgment of the highest court,




creIP. I.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                507
and to unsettle all the principles of law, produced so much
mischief, that in 1837, the English and American procedure
was adopted; and the determination of the court of cassation
is now final, and absolutely binding upon all other tribunals.
It is not uncommon to meet with this odd combination of
liberty and power in monarchical government. The system
of monarchical rule is itself a compensation of errors; where
if the weight presses too much in one part, it is carelessly
relaxedl, or altogether removed in another part. The most
remarkable example of this is contained in " magna charta,"
which authorizes the barons to pursue and to till whlerever
found, the monarch who presumes to violate any of its provisions. It legalizes civil war all over the land; and Enlgland
was accordingly a scene of confusion and violence for more
than two centuries afterward. It is to the regulated liberty
which free institutions introduce, that we must look foir a
salutary restraint upon the actions of men, and as the only
meals of giving supreme authority to the laws.
The reason why no tribunal, like the supreme court of the
Unitedl States, is known in monarchical or aristocratic;al governiments, is because too much instead of too little power is
condlensed in the political institutions. The king and nobtility
having acquired an extravagant share of authority, there is
no wary of subjecting their public acts to the scrutiny of a
regular legal investigation. Questions cannot arise, because
as there is no popular constitution, the right is all on one side.
The establishment of such a system as the American, is a sure
in(lication that the odious maxim of the sovereignty of the
government is abjured, and that of society substituted in its
place. Then for the first time questions arise between goverminent and the members which compose it; for the same
funda, mental ordinance which is obligatory upon the one, is
obligatory upon the other. The notion that public rights are
unsuited to such a mode of proceeding, grows out of the idea
that they are of too high a dignity to be submitted to the
same examination as private rights.  The notion, them, is
anti-rep)ublican in the extreme. All public as well as private
rights, are rights of the people. Formerly government was
not amenable to any tribunal, while private citizens were.
But as soon as the basis on which government rested was




508             NATERE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
changed; the moment that its whole authority was referred
to the consent of society, the rights of government and those
of its members were placed upon the same footing.  The
constitution of the United States does not imitate "magna
charLa"-the makeshift of a semi-barbarous age-and author
ize one member of the confederacy to place its veto upon the
most solemn acts of government. It does not, in order to
settle a question of right, first unhinge the notions of justice,
but fortifies the one by guarding and maintaining the other.
It submits national and state controversies to the calm and
patient investigation of a tribunal, which, as it represents
both parties, is eminently adapted to compose the angry feelings of' both.
There is infinite convenience in administering the government, where the public authority is made to act directly upon
individuals. The laws are then executed with promptness
and facility. But it is not for the sake of convenience merely,
that the plan is adopted. There is another and a higher end
which is designed to be effected; and that is to banish civil
war, to preserve internal tranquillity, in short, to uphold civilization itself. The form which all questions take, their submission to a judicial instead of a political tribunal, is an immense
advantage to the cause of free institutions. And admitting,
what must be admitted, that every human tribunal, however
skillfully contrived, must be subject to error; yet all who have
had any experience of human affairs, will see the great importance of having some tribunal of dernier resort; some tri
bunal, in other words, which shall be able to speak with authority, after it has deliberately examined and decided.
There is a peculiarity in the form of confederate government established in America, which sheds great light upon
this subject, and points to the supreme court of the union as
the most fit tribunal to decide upon questions of controverted
jurisdiction. The national government is not represented in
the states, but is itself a mere representation from the states.
Senators are elected by the local legislatures, the president
and representatives are chosen by the people of the states,
and not by the people as composing one aggregate community, and the judges are chosen by the two first, and from the
districts in which they reside. ]But there is no similar repre



CHAP. I.]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  509
sentation of the national government to be found in the executive, legislature, or judiciary of the states.  Tow all confederacies are not constructed in this manner, nor w;s there any
absolute necessity why the American should have been so.
But a little reflection will show that it contributes materially
to promot6 one very important object, and that is, the complete separation of the powers. of the two classes of government, the national and the state.
Before the union of Scotland and Ireland with England, independently of the fact that there were no local executives
like the governors of the American states, the two former countries being presided over by the king of England, this officer
as representing the central governmient, appointed the miembers of two estates in the Scotch parliament, the nobility and
bishops, and nominated a certain proportion of the lords of
articles, by whom the real legislative business of Scotland'was
transacted. In Ireland, until within a few years before the
union, no law could even be propounded to its parliament,
until it had received the previous assent of the Eaoglish parliarnent. The case in both instances was the reverse of what
it is in the United States. The federal head was effectively
represented in the local governments; while, on the other
hand, those governments were not represented by the national
executive, legislature, or judiciary. Or, to take another example: the provinces of Holland are a confederacy in a much
more strict acceptation, than was the British government: for
there is a more complete separation of the local from the general interests. Each province has its own legislative assembly, and one chamber of the states general, or federal legislature, is composed of representatives chosen in the?.:ovinces.
But the provincial governments differ exceedingly fromV the
state governments of America. They are intended to adaminister the local interests; and should, in order to carry out this
design, represent exclusively the local population.  But this
is not the case. Not only is the number of the members of the
chamber of deputies, and of the electors who choose themn,
fixed by the federal executive, but he nominates the members
who compose the upper house in every one of those provincial
legislatures.
The American government would have resembled the3 Dutch,




510              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BO131 IV..
if the plan of a constitution presented to the convention by
Mr. Hamilton had been adopted. The lplan proposed that the
governors of the states should be appointed by the federal
government, and that they should have a negative upon the
laws passed by the state legislatures. The federal government
would then have been effectually represented in the state governments. The same object would have been accomplished in
another form, if the plan advocated by JIr. Pinckney and Mir.
iMadison had been accepted. This proposed that the national
legislature should have power to negative all laws of the state
legislatures; not merely such laws as were repugnant to the
federal constitutioin, but all laws which appeared improper.
There would still have been this difference between the Amn.erican and the Dutch and former British confederacy; that in
the fobrmer, the states are represented in every department of
the national government, whereas in the second, they are very
impertfectly represented, and in the last;, they were not represented at all. There would have been much stronger reasons,
therefore, in the first, than in the two last instances, for creating a supreme tribunal to decide upon the conflicting rights
of the two classes of government, and vesting the appoinltment of its members in the federal head. Those plans, however, aud otLers of a similar character, were avoided; and the
constitution adopted is accordingly the only example of the
pertect form of confederate government which has anywhere
been kniown. It fulfils the three indispensable conditions of
that spIe(ies of government. First, there is a complete separation between the general and local interests. Second, the
laws opeiate upon individuals, not upon governments; and
third, the federal head is a mere representation of the states,
but has rno power to intermeddle in their domestic legislation.
This mode of constructing the government, determined  the
character and jurisdiction of the tribunal of last resort. It
was a judicial tribunal: 1st. Because the laws were designed
to act upon persons. 2d. Because the process of analysis, by
which the unconstitutional feature in a law is detected, is
more completely reached in that foam of proceeding. 3d. Because the constitution and character of such a tribunal necessaril3 s8lits out the influence of party feelings, so fatal to the
firm anti just appreciation of what is right. The members of




CHAP..]         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                511
this tribunal were appointed by the federal government, because that government is made up of a representation from
the states, and is in no way represented in the state government. And if ingenious minds should still seek to) raise objections, and insist that a jurisdiction of the kind conferred
upon the supreme court savors too much of political power, it
may be answered: 1st. That this constitutes one of its chief
recommendations. 2d. That political power must necessarily
be wielded by some one or more of the citizens, and that the
members of the court are alike citizens with the members of
any other department. 3d. That it is infinitely desirable to
break up political power as much as possible, to distribute it
among several tribunals, instead of condensing it in one.
We may illustrate the great advantage which is derived
from  giving to all the movements of the government, the
greatest simp)licity imaginable, by an institution which prevails in America, and which is now sought to be imitated
in all the constitutional monarchies of Europe. The popular
elections are not conducted in counties, much less in larger
divisions of districts, but in the townships or parishes. Instead of assembling a vast multitude of people on one spot,
to engage in broils and fights, this army of electors is cut up
into minute parcels, each of which is separated from the other
by miles. The force of party spirit is broken; and when the
election is over, universal tranquillity is established. This is
an emblem of American institutions in the general, which
undertake to compass the most important end in the easiest
manner possible.  The organization and procedure of the
supreme court of the union, is an application of the same
principle to things apparently different, but which are in
reality the same. We want an institution which shall have
power to protect us against the rage of party spirit, in those
cases where party spirit would be most fatal; an institution
which shall be able to appease the sharpest discontents among
the states by the employment of calm judgment and r-fiection.
The reaching rights of this ponderous character, through the
simple and uanostentatious forms of the law, is, as I before
saild, the chief recommendation of the system. If it savors
of political power, this power is at any rate morseled into
small fragments, is only employed in detail, and on occasions




512              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [noOK IV.
where there is the least temptation to render it subservient to
political ends. And although we may not be authorized to
say that it is the best conceivable plan, we are well justified
in declaring it the best practicable one.
The constitution of the United States is a compact. Every
popular constitution is bsth a campact, and a delegation of
power, whether the government be a consolidated or a federal
one. In the first, the compact is between the people, and the
delegation of power is by them: in the second, the compact is
between the members of the confederacy, and the delegation
of power is by them  only. And when the constitution is
framed, the government created represents the joint authority
of the states. This different mode of proceeding does not
render the authority actually granted less binding in the one
case, than in the other. It alters the structure and form of the
government; but the compact, or constitution, is equally obligatory in both. And as in an aggregate community, neither
the citizens, nor even a majority of the people, can go beyond
the compact, and interpose a veto upon the acts of the government; so in the confederate government, neither a single
state, nor a majority of the states, have any right to do the
same thing. No one ever heard that when government was
acting within the legitimate sphere of its jurisdiction, the
jurisdiction itself should be questioned, because the measures
pursued were not agreeable to every one. If there were no
discontent in the state, government would be unnecessary.
Civil institutions are appointed for the purpose of meltiing
down the idiosyncrasies of different parts of society; and it
is not merely from a noble self-denial, but from a sense of evident interest, that men are ordinarily persuaded to lend their
support in upholding the influence of these institutions.
The division of the territory of the United States into distinct states, was an accidental circumstance; but the advantage which has sprung from it, is not accidental. If the people of America had composed one aggregate community, it
would have been the bight of wisdom to imitate the present
plan, to have created local governments, with complete jurisdiction over the local interests, and a central government to
preside over the common interests. The scheme is in effect
carried out to a considerable extent in the individual states.




CHAP. I. ]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 513
The counties and townships are lesser jurisdictions inclosed
within a larger one, administering their domestic affairs skillfully and economically, because they are not mixed up and
confounded with the general interests of the state. And if
this form of civil polity was the result of a constitutional compact at the first foundation of the government, the counties
and townships would possess complete sovereignty within
their respective spheres, which could only be alienated, or
altered, in the mode prescribed by the constitution. For the
sovereignty of the parts of which the community is composed,
does not depend upon the time when they became sovereign;
but upon the fact that they are so. Nor is it possible for
ingennity to frame further objections, and insist that the parL.o
would in that case be the offspring of the central authority;
whereas, in the confederate government, the central authority
is itself but an emanation from the parts. For itl both instances,
the formt of government is the offspring of the voluntary consent of the parts: only in the one, the parts are more namrerous, as they are made up of individuals; in the other, they
are composed of states, or separate collections of individuals.
Now if, in a state government thus constructed, the original
compact should appoint a tribunal for the purpose of settling
constitutional disputes between these two sets of goverlanent,
no one of the parts could object to its jurisdiction and interpose its veto, because the law complained of did not equally
benefit all the parts. Nor could it do so, even if the law declared to be valid, were in reality invalid; since in theory
such a supposition would be itself unconstitutional, while in
practice it would undermine all authority-that of the parts,
as well as of the whole.
It is renarable that those who advocate the veto power of
the states, have taken for granted the existence of a power
which i:. nowhere recognized in the constittion; and at the
same time deny the jurisdiction of the supremne court, which is,
contained in language as unequivocal as could be desired; as
unequivocal as that which confers jurisdiction on any other
department; so much do times of high party excitement confounid all car notions of justice, and make shipwreck of the;
most settled prineples'of government. As a large part of our
opinions and beliefs are not absolutely determined by the obW
33




514              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
jects with which they deal, but are modified by the structure
of mind and the temperament of each individual, it is perhaps
surprising that uniformity of opinion does exist to as great
an extent as is actually the case. But in order to correct
those aberrations in which we are so liable to fall, upon all
political questions, it is of great importance to view them at
a time when the judgment will be least liable to be perverted
by any disturbing influence.  The doctrine of the veto
power of the states was for the first time proclaimed in the
case of the commonwealth vs. Cobbett. At a time when party
spirit ran high, C. J. McKean, ventured to express the opinion, that it was the duty of congress to call a convention,
whenever a state protested against a law as unconstitutional.
This singular opinion, was easily moulded by the fertile genius
of John Taylor into a regular system, and has been defended
by other minds of equal vigor and fertility, as the panacea for,all the irregularities in our system of federal government.
The United States is not the only country in' which geographical parties have made their appearance. The southern!provinces of France have, for a long time, shown a disposition
to couinteract the legislation of the kingdom, because it was
deemed too favorable to the northern provinces. At the very
period (1833) when geographical parties in the United States
threatened the Union, two parties in France of the same character, and founded upon the same principles, were arrayed,against one aniother. In 1834 was drawn up the celebrated'manifest of the southern provinces, demanding that the king-,dom should be intersected by a line east and west, separating
the vine-growing from the non-vine-growing provinces; and,that south of this line the customs should be abolished. The
then minister, 1M. Thiers, declared that " he had given great,consideration to the subject, but iin endeavoring to consult the
interests of B1ordeaux., I should do violence to those of Lyons.'In attending to the complaints of Elbouf, I must sacrifice the
~nterests of lawV'e."  The vine-growing constituted the predolilaint ilterest in the routh,,but' it was not the predomihnant intterest in the- kingdom, nor the exclusive pursuit in the:south. As the3 north was not an exclusively manufacturing,,the isouth. wa.s not an exclusively agricultural' region. The
governmnent of the minority then, would ibe subject to more




CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                515
abuse than that of the majority. But I return to a consideration of the veto power of the states.
If, in America, a single state, in consequence of its possessing this power can compel congress to assemble a convention,
whenever it supposes a power not delegated is exercised, there
must be a corresponding right on the other side, whenever a
state assumes a power which is not reserved; otherwise the
equilibrium of the system would be destroyed. On this subject, Taylor and Calhoun are silent. We will then suppose,
that in this case, congress will be obliged to call a convention,
as well to protect the rights of the other states as its own
authority.  The question in that convention will be, not
whether the constitution shall be so amended as to delegate
a given power, but whether it shall be so amended as to reserve it. The discontented state derives every advantage in
the first instance, from the singular mode of propounding the
question; but it loses this advantage in the second. The
question is so framed, with the express intention of enabling
a small minority of states to overrule a large majority. But
this small minority, which in the first instance, determined
the question adversely to the federal government, will now
decide it adversely to the discontented state. But much the
greater number of questions which have arisen between the
two jurisdictions, have related to powers assumed by the
states as reserved. The consequence is, that by this novel construction of the constitution, the rights of the states would
be placed in jeopardy. As all the powers reserved are not
enumerated, it would be peculiarly necessary to call a convention to determine whether the power exercised by the state
was usurped or reserved. And the right of North Carolina,
South Carolina, and Louisiana, to regulate the ingress of free
people of color, would be decided against them. This would
also be the case with regard to the constitutional provision in
Indiana, prohibiting the imninigration of the same persons;
for it is certain, that three-fourths of the states could not be
found to declare that these powers were part of the reserved
rights. The same, disposition would lhave been made of the
Dartmouth college case, the laws of Kentucky suspendi-iig the
payment of debts, iand those of Ma, ssactlusetts, RIhode Island,
and Maine, prohibiting the sale of spirituous liquors, for they




516             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
might be supposed to interfere with the delegated power of
congress to permit their importation. The two writers I have
referred to, contend for a new and unheard of power, but do
not seem to be aware that the rule which permits it, would
operate in contrary directions; that if a state has a right to
veto a law of the federal government, because it is not a delegated power, for the same reason will the federal government
have a right to veto a law of a state because it does not fall
within the reserved powers; and that the same consequences
will follow the assembling of a convention, in which by the
same mode of propounding the question, the right would be
authoritatively and finally settled against the state.
It must not be supposed that no case can be conceived where
a power is assumed to be reserved, which does not raise the
question whether it is delegated. For 1st. A power prohibited to the states cannot have that effect. 2d. A power neither
directly prohibited to the states, nor reserved, may be assumed
before any law has been passed by congress. 3d. If the delegated powers presuppose the existence of the reserved, the
reserved equally supposed the existence of the delegated. Nor
does the non-enumeration of all the reserved powers render it
necessary to propound the question always in the same form,
for a considerable number are enumerated, and the enumeration of the delegated is ipso facto a designation of the reserved.
It will be remarked that the question is between the authority
of a, single state, and the joint authority of the other states.
If it were between the state and some depository of power
creafld  by itself alone, the presumption might be that an
anlthority not delegated, had been exercised; for the two
would stand in the relation of inferior and superior. But
there is no such relation between a state and the Union. Each
of the other states is the equal of the one which complains;
and jointly they are its superior, because the constitution was
the result of a joint act, and not the act of a single state. The
preslumptionu, therefore, is that the power is not reserved, and
not that it is one not delegated.
The greater the number who concur in doing an act, the
more of a popular character is stamped upon it; but that is
on the supposition that it is actually done. The merely making provision, that several shall concur to render an act valid,




CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                517
is something very different from their actually concurring: for
if they do not, the consequence is that the measure adopted,
instead of enlisting a greater number than a majority, may
enlist one that is much less. The rule that requires a number
greater than a majority, is only adopted in order to preserve
the old order of things. For this reason, it is very sparingly
used, because all legislation supposes alteration. The momelnt
it is employed to introduce a new state of things, it becoimes
mischievous. And that is the old state tnder which a government had hitherto been uniformly administered, and that the
new, which would overturn the old. If the unconstitutlonal
doctrine of calling a convention were put in practice, it would
follow that whichever asserts a power inconsistent with the
established order of things, is bound to show its validity. If
a state attempts to impair the obligation of contracts, by violating the visitatorial power in a collegiate institution, (1) or
by enacting a law suspending the collection of debts, (2) or by
an insolvent law discharging the debt, (3) or by imposing a
tax on packages of goods imported, in the hands of the merchant, (4) or by laws abolishing the duties, (5) or by laws annulling the fugitive slave act (6), the question appropriately
submitted to a convention would be, shall the right assumed
be deemed a reserved one? shall a declaratory amendment be
passed to that effect?
There is another view of great importance. I have considered the scheme as a two-edged sword, as operating equally
against the states and the federal government. But in truth,
it would operate very frequently against the states, even where
the convention was consequent upon the veto of a state, and
the question was shall the power be delegated to the Union.
Vermont and Massachusetts, have vetoed the fugitive slave
law. If a convention were assembled for the preposterous
purpose of delegating the power to pass the law, it would be
very difficult to obtain the votes of three-fourths of the states
in the affirmative. If the same course had been pursued in
1836-7, when the act prohibiting the circulation of incendiary
papers by the mail, was passed, a declaratory amendment
delegating the power to pass the act could not have been pro1. New Hampshire. 2. Kentucky. 3. New York and Louisiana. 4. Maryland. 5. South Carolina. 6. Vermont.




518             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOI IV.
cured. If one of the non-slaveholding states had vetoed, as
unconstitutional, the act admitting Missouri into the Union,
the constitutional number of the states could not have been
found to vote in the affirmative, shall the power be delegated
to the national legislature. It will be observed, that the right
asserted does not depend upon the fact whether the law may
or may not be executed within the territory of the discontented state, nor upon its ability to oppose any actual resistance
to its execution: it is sufficient that a state protests against
any law, and congress is immediately obliged to assemble a
convention. If, in 1802, any one of the states had protested
against the constitutionality of forming new states, out of territory acquired since 1789, a convention would not have delegated the power. Or, if the protest had been against the
acquisition of territory by treaty, Louisiana may not have been
purchased. Great Britain would have seized it during the
war which was soon after rekindled between herself and France.
It was to prevent this catastrophe that Napoleon consented to
part with it. Even Mr. Jefferson declared he was not satisfied
that the United States could accept the cession, unless the
people inhabiting the territory voluntarily submitted to live
under the American government. He saw no difficulty in the
alienation, or division of the sovereignty by the people themselves; but he saw great difficulty in an alienation or division
by the government which presided over them. But there is
no intelligible way of dealing with a question of this sort,
unless we suppose an anterior consent, tacit or implied, to the
alienation, or the joint consent by the people of France and
Louisiana to the same. Any other interpretation, would throw
into confusion the boundaries of every state on the face of the
globe.
It would appear then, that the operation of the system
under the present and only true construction ot the constitution, is more favorable to that wise and just spirit of compromise which should forever preside over the counsels of a
federal republic. Taylor and Calhoun suppose that the veto
will always be interposed by a southern state, and that that
state will always be triumphant. But the scheme would be
equally fatal to the southern and northern states.
The two authors I have referred to, suppose that because




CHAr. I.]        O)F FRrEE INSTITUT'L'NS.             519
the American states entered separately into the confederacy,
and separately ratified the constitution, the government of the
Union is the agent of the individual states. All constitutional
government is strictly an agency.; in a democratic aggregate
community, it is the agent of individuals; in a confederacy, it
is the agent of states. But although individuals form the first,
they do so jointly, and therefore, no one individual can unmake it; and for the same reason, although states formed the
last, they did so jointly, and no one state has power to take it
to pieces. It is immaterial, whether the joint power which
created, and the government and constitution which were
created, were all one act, or successive acts. The existence of
the joint power is undeniable; otherwise we fall into the
absurdity of supposing that one individual made the one, and
one state the other form of government. It follows, therefore,
that as the sovereignty in the former, resides in individuals
jointly, in the last, it resides in states jointly. This separates
the sovereignty in both instances from the agency, and renders
it as easy to find it in one form of government as in the other.
The sovereignty resides in those who make the government;
in aggregate community, in the people jointly, in a confederate
government, in states jointly. In the former, the sovereignty
is not lodged in individuals, because they voted per capita,
nor in the second, does it reside in the states separately, because they also voted per capita. For all this was necessary
to be done, in order to render the act in each instance a joint
one. This gives rise to a division of sovereignty, though this
sometimes creates confused notions, as it seems to import a
division of the faculty of sovereignty at one and the same
time, instead of a division between two distinct political beings. The first is impossible, the second is easily understood.
The states jointly, not the government, are sovereign as
regards the federal interests; the states singly, as regards
their domestic interests. Nor is there any difficulty in conceiving how a state should be sovereign as to some things, and
not sovereign as to others; the difficulty is the other way, in
conceiving how a state should be solely sovereign over other
states. If there is any act of sovereignty, it is in the creation
of a government, or in the alteration of it after it is created.
The joint power of the states, is as distinguishable from the




520'NATURE AND TENDENCY              [3ooI Iv.
government, as the joint authority of individuals in an aggregate commniunity, is distinguishable from the government they
create. No Single state framed the constitution, nor has a
single state power to alter it. It was framed by the states
jointly, each voting separately, for there is no other device, by
which a joint act can be made to originate, and the concurrence
of three-fourths, not the voice of one, is necessary to alter it.
It follows, therefore, that the sovereignty is partitioned between
the states jointly, and the states individually. For as it would
be contradictory to say that a joint association could act in the
capacity of a single member, it is contradictory to say, that a
single member can act in the capacity of a joint association.
For the same reason, that the states jointly cannot alter the
constitution of a state, no single state can alter the constitution of the Union. It is contended, that this renders the states
sovereign as to the reserved, and not sovereign as to the delegated powers; and how should it be otherwise. The reserved
powers are simply those powers which belong to each state
separately. Over these it must be supreme, because they have
never been alienated; over the last it cannot be, because they
were created by the states jointly. The reserved powers are
1placed in the constitution, but it is for the express purpose
of separating them from the body of federal powers. If the
objection were, this makes the states separately, sovereign as to
the reserved, and separately, not sovereign as to the delegated
powers, its futility, and want of meaning would be apparent;
but by wmaking use simply of the word states, in both instances,
an ambiguity is created, which gives rise to a confusion of
ideas. If the objection were, this makes the states separately
sovereign as to the reserved, and jointly, not sovereign, as to
the delegate-d powers, its falsity would be immediately seen.
By using the word states in both instances without qualification, that hazy state of mind is created which is most favorable to the admission of every kind of error.
The argument in the "Discourse on the Constitution," is
woven out of a sophism. The states are said to have formed
the constitution separately; but with concert and mutual understanding. The infirmity of the argument would be flagrant,
if something resembling a joint act were not alluded to. Hence,
those words of half meaning are employed. The appropriate




CHAP. I.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 521
terms compact, or united wills, are not used; though so much
stress is afterwards placed upon the first, in passages where it
is not of more importance that they should be used. The
reason is obvious; the frailness of the reasoning, would be
instantly seen, if that precise, and unequivocal language were
employed. States may w th concert, and mutual understanding, agree to establish separate constitutions. Very different
is the case, where a compact is entered into for the formation
of a single constitution for the whole. Ina the last the constitution is by irresistible implication, the result of the joint will
of the states thus united. The argument of Taylor, and Calhoun, is this: the states separately sent delegates to the convention; in the convention, the vote was taken by states, and
each state separately ratified the constitution; therefore, the
constitution was ordained by the states separately, as completely as were their domestic governments. The argument
has an air of plausibility, especially when connected with the
words, "with concert," and " mutual understanding;" for these
by their ambiguous import, contribute to hide the sophism
which lurks beneath. They are not inconsistent with the
formation of either a federal, or a state government. But
they do not explain with precision, the foundation on which a
federal government rests. The states did separately send delegates to the convention, the vote in the convention was taken
by states, and each state separately ratified the constitution,
as each party to a treaty, separately ratifies it. It will not be
denied, that a federal government may be established by the
joint will, or authority of the members, and a little reflection
is sufficient to convince us, that it is impossible it should be
established in any other way. In subsequent parts of the
"' Discourse," "compact," and " contract" are frequently used.
The reason is obvious; the author is there engaged in considering the violations of the constitution, and to represent that
instrument as having been framed merely with concert, and
mutual understanding, would be language too loose, and ambiguous, to answer the purpose there intended. That the
vote in the convention was taken by states, and that the states
severally ratified the constitution, does not prove that all was
not done by the joint will of the states, for the joint will of
separate states can only be ascertained in this way. It merely




522             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK IV.
proves that the population was not an aggregate one, and that
the government was not a consolidated republic.
To hear some persons talk of the federal government of
America, one would suppose that it was a foreign government,
seated in a remote country, presiding over the general interests of the states, and yet without any visible connection with
or dependence on them. One would hardly recognize a government which derived its whole being from the states, and
which was constantly recruited and supported by them.
There is one way in which I can conceive that an important
revolution may be effected in the structure of the supreme
court. The judges may be appointed for a term of years, and
the marshals may be elected by the people of the respective
states. The relation which the judges bear to the federal
government will not be changed, the bond which now connects
them will not be broken; but it will be materially weakened.
The wisdom and authority of the judges will be in some degree eclipsed, not only in their own eyes, but in the eyes of all
those who are called upon to assist in executing a judgment.
I think I can already discern symptoms of a reluctance, in
those state courts whose judges are elected for a term of years,
to touch a constitutional question, if it can be avoided: a disposition which is in every way commendable, as it does not
necessarily imply a shrinking from duty, but may produce
much more caution than would otherwise be observed. There
is an important rule on this subject, which is, that every law
is "prima facie" to be deemed constitutional, and that the
reasons to show the reverse must be very convincing. But
the duty of judges in America is peculiar: they may haVe to
decide upon two conflicting laws, or two conflicting constitutions, when the "prima facie" presumption cannot be presented with so much distinctness. The result, however, may
be the same; more prudence and caution will be observed in
weighing the arguments on both sides. The court will more
readily retract an erroneous judgment, when it is less accessible to that pride of opinion which makes it desire on all occasions to give an example of consistency with itself, even at
the expense of inconsistency with the rule of right.




CIHAP. II.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                523
CHAPTER II.
THE RIGHIT OF SECESSION IN THE CONFEDERATE FORM OF
GOVERNMENT.
THIS is an entirely new question in political philosophy.
No confederate government has ever provided for the emergency. In America the constitution is equally silent upon
the subject. It provides for amendments; but amendments
imply the continued existence of a constitution, whereas secession is a partial dissolution of it. Nor do the 9th and 10th
amendments affect the question; for these merely guarantee
to the states, the exclusive control of their domestic interests,
and presuppose the continued existence of the two governments, state and federal, instead of the extinguishment of one
of them.
States, before they form a confederate government, are distinct and independent communities; and the question very
naturally arises, whether the entering into a compact of this
nature, necessarily forbids a withdrawal from it. The determination of this difficult and interesting question renders it
necessary to examine the principles which lie at the foundation of the confederate form of government.
If the individuals composing an aggregate society, establish a consolidated government, whether that government is
republican, aristocratical, or monarchical, a part of the society
have not the right, they have not even the ability to secede.
Such a government comprehends a defined and undivided territory, the territory inhabited by all the people within it; and
there is a plain inconsistency in supposing that some of the
people may be politically, out of the government, while territorily, they are within it. Territory, and government, where
the. commur  is homogeneous, are corresponding and convertible terms. If independent states enter into the same
form of government, they will be subjected to the same disa



524              NIATURE AND TENDENCY             [nOOk Iv.
bility. They will have created an aggregate society, and
erased the existence of separate peoples. Although the former
boundaries of their respective territories may be traced, their
population is completely merged. In half a century, a new
people have grown up, total strangers to the original lines of
demarcation, and absolutely knowing but one country, and one
government. Although the boundaries of the states, occupied by their ancestors, may be preserved in tradition, or
record, the political geography of the country is altered, the
moral boundaries of the population are obliterated, and secession would be a solecism.
These difficulties do not exist where independent communities enter into a confederacy. Each separate state is an aggregate community: its people therefore, cannot withdraw
their allegiance from it in any other way than by removal. But
if a state secedes, the people who inhabit it, are instantly
placed, both politically and territorially, without the federal
goverrnmentt. A  confederate government, as such, possesses
no territory. In the case of secession, therefore, the laws
would at one and the same time, cease to operate both teritorially, and politically, over the state withdrawing. The great
difference, then, between a consolidated and a federal government is, that in the first, there are no parts, or if originally
there were, they are merged; in the second, the parts continue
to have a distinct existence.
The soundness of a principle is said to consist in its operating 1both ways; and a mind fertile in resources, may inquire
whether it a people composing one aggregate community,
whose territory was either inconveniently large, or inconvenientl] situated, were to divide the state into two states, first
receiving' the vote of the new state in favor of this arrangemen t, arnd that this last proceeded to organize a separate govment; it may be asked, whether it would be competent for the
people inhabiting the old division, to annul the compact, and
to reabsorb the new state into itself. The answer is, that it
would not, the reason of which is, that in the case supposed,
there is a double compact, giving birth to two distinct governments. The dismemberment of Massachusetts, by the erection of Maine, is an example. The consent of the people, as
composing one entire community, was first obtained, and then




CHAP. II.         OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 525
the separate vote of the newly contemplated state.  But
in the formation of a federal government, by independent
states, the vote of the states is alone taken; the vote of the
people, as forming one aggregate community, is not and can
not be. In the first case, there is a double compact, in the
second, a single one. The principle therefore would be mnisapplied. In order to render the analogy complete, the hypothesis should be, that the people composing one aggregate community, carved out of the territory distinct, local, or:municipal
governments, but without any regard to the consent of the
local population, and consequently without forming any compact with it. In this case it would be competent for the former to anihilate those local jurisdictions.  Their formation is
only a mozode of administering the government, not a contrivane for severing it. The erection of departments, provinces,
or districts, is an example. They all stand upon the same
footing.- The greater or lesser extent of authority possessed
by some of these domestic jurisdictions, makes no difference
in principle between them. It is not the extent but the nature
of the power, the source whence it is derived, which determines where there is a similitude or difference between them.
And as it is competent for a state which is a member of the
colnfede rtcy, to extinguish the municipal governments wit-hin
its territory, it would be competent for a people composing
one undivided empire to annihilate any of the local governments upon its surface. There is no necessity for the reservation of the right. It springs fromt the character and constitution of the society. The same is true of a, confederate government, formed by independent states. It is the creature of a
single, not of a double compact; and each state for itself, and
for itself only, may withdraw from the Uinion. The right flows
by irresistible implication, from the original structure of the
society. But although a formal recognition of it is unnecessary, I am by no means satisfied that it would be unwise to
insert it. For the minds of men are as much moved by magnitudes in the moral, as in the physical world. Wbatever
protects us, from the delusions of the imagination, or from the
effect of a train of inconsequential reasoning, in matters pertaining to political society, is as much to be valued as the deliverance from a present calamity.




526             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
I have spoken of a single, in contradistinction to a double compact. The distinction is of great importance. Some
writers, in treating of the social compact, regard it as a contract between the government and the people, while others, with
much more reason, consider it as a contract between the people themselves, for the establishment of a government. If
both took place, it would be a double compact. So in the
division, by an aggregate community of the territory, into
local governments, the compact is single, and in the formation
of a central government by independent states, the same is
the case. The compact in the one, is between the individuals
composing the society; in the other, between the states.
Where a people have established a single government, they may
alter or abolish it, for that government is an agency. Where
they have established local or municipal jurisdictions, they
may annihilate them; and where independent states have entered into a confederacy, any one of them may secede from it.
The reason of the last will not be so readily apprehended: for
it may be supposed, that, as in the first and second, a majority
of the people would be necessary to exercise the powers described, in the third, a majority of the states would be necessary to annul the central government, as regards even a single
member. But the two things are diverso intuitu. In the two first,
the original organization of the government is effected by the
majority; in the last, it is effected by the separate vote of each
state. The principle of the majority is entirely foreign to the
constitution of a federal government. It only begins to play
a part, after it is set in motion. It is an instrument in the
administration of the government, not in laying its foundation. So that the analogy fails; and we are brought to the
same conclusion, that each state, each member of a confederacy, may for itself but for itself alone, abdicate, and silently
withdraw from the confederacy.
First. It has been attempted to deduce the right of secession from the hypothesis, that the sovereignty is inalienable
and indivisible. The argument may be thus stated: the sovereignty originally resided in the states; it is incapable of
alienation or division; therefore, the right of secession is a
perpetually subsisting right. This opinion is, however, without foundation, and I have therefore called it an hypothesis.




CHAP. Ir.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               527
Those who maintain it, regard it as a settled and fundamental
maxim of government. Even if it were so, it would not be
applicable, for secession does not imply the exercise of sovereignty, but the reverse, as I shall presently show.
A striking thought sometimes crosses the mind with the
rapidity of lightning; and its novelty and brilliance forbid a
vigorous examination of it. But analysis is the only test of
the validity of any opinion. Our knowledge is so multifarious, and lies in such coafused heaps in the mind, that nothing
is clear until it is reduced to its simple elements. When we
assert that the sovereignty is inalienable, or indivisibble, we
in effect impose limitations upon the sovereignty, which is a
contradiction; we annul the very principle upon which the
proposition rests: we take from the sovereignty its most capital attribute in the very sentence which is intended to give
it the most extensive signification. Once the notion of sovereignty is admitted, it follows, as an unavoidable consequence,
that it has power to do, at least, what will contribute to the
well being of the nation in whom it resides. Emergencies
may occur which would render it highly desirable that one
people should come under the government of another. If we
say that the former is unable to do so-unable to merge its
sovereignty in that of the latter-we in effect declare that it
has not the capacity of self-preservation; that it is deprived
of the choice of means for furthering so important an end,
and yet sovereignty has no meaning, unless it supposes the
power of making this choice. Scotland and Ireland merged
their sovereignty in that of England by the acts of union, and
it is certain, that if the United States had been a consolidated,
instead of a federal, government, it would have been competent for the people of Texas to ask to be incorporated into it.
It would have been so, if, instead of a republic, the United
States had been an unlimited monarchy, like China or Russia.
When, in the reign of Elizabeth, the people of Holland made
overtures to the English nation to become united to it, as
Wales is to England, it was an exercise of that very sovereignty which belongs to every independent people.
The dogma of sovereignty, if pursued in all *its ramifications, and followed out in all the consequences to which it
leads, is full of absurdity. The people of France have un



528             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
doubtedly transferred all sovereignty over Louisiana to the
United States; and although it may be said that this was a
renunciation of sovereignty over a colony, and not over themselves; yet, first, the fact is certain (which is all I care for),
that the sovereignty has been alienated; has been displaced
from where it once resided, and that it cannot be recalled.
Eeeondly, we can form no conception of sovereignty, unless it
is attached to all the people living under the same government.
The mere distance of the parts of an empire from each other,
can make no difference in the principle, if there is any force
in it. But to render the view still clearer, the French nation,
instead of ceding Louisiana, may have ceded a part of European
France. In this case, there would be absolutely no griound
to stand upon in maintaining the dogma of the indivisibility
of the sovereignty. Either the sovereignty did not reside in
the French nation, or if it did, they would, by the cession,
have alienated it in perpetuo. In the whole range of political
philosophy, I know of no opinion which has been seen in so confused a manner, and which, perhaps, on that very account, has
been seized with so much avidity. By the treaty of Vienna,
Genoa was ceded to Sardinia, Finland to Russia, NTorway to
Sweden. In all those instances, the sovereignty over the people was irrevocably transferred to other nations. The sovereignty in neither Persia or Turkey resides in the people; but
it would be absurd to say that the prince and sultan in whom
it resides, are incompetent to alienate it, or that the progress
of knowledge, and the advancement of popular lpower, may
not gradually displace it from where it is now lodged, and deposit it with the people. Knowledge is power, especially in
the political world. Where that resides, the sovereignty is to
be found. Writers on political philosophy ldo not limit the
maxim to one form of society, but extend it without distinction to all; and therein they have reason, and argue at least
consequentially; for the power to alienate, must depend upon
the faculty of sovereignty, not upon the body in whom it resides.
In a confederate government, the states composing it always
reserve to themselves certain rights; and it may be supposed
that in that case there can be no alienation of sovereignty.
But in the English and Scotch union, where the merger was




CHAP. I. ]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               529
almost complete, Scotland reserved various rights to her people, the ecclesiastical establishment, the judicature, and private law, &c. And on the cession of the District of Columbia, a similar course was pursued; but the sovereignty over
the residue was forever alienated. It is incapable of being
resumed, except with the consent of the United States. In
the instances of Norway, Genoa and Finland, the sovereignty
was transferred; in that of Scotland and the District of Columbia, it is divided. If the United States had been a consolidated government, and without any representation of the people, the annexation of Texas would also have operated as a
complete alienation of the sovereignty, if ir, were without any
reservation, and with it, would have been a division. Some
very excellent minds are ready to admit that there may be a
division, while they are unprepared to admit that there can be
an alienation. The keen mind of Rousseau saw clearly enough
that unless the indivisibility of the sovereignty was admitted,
the dogma of inalienability must fall to the ground. He has,
therefore, declared peremptorily, " that sovereignty is inalienable and indivisible." For it will be evident on reflection,
that there is no difference in principle between the two. A
division of the sovereignty is pro tanto an alienation.
On entering into political society, the individuals composing
an aggregate community may make an entire surrender of
their rights to the joint society created; or they may reserve
to themselves a portion of those rights. The bill of rights of
every state constitution in America is a reservation of this
character; but this does not prevent the transfer of the sovereignty over the residue to the people of the state as composing
one homogeneous community. The celebrated maxim, therefore, to which I have referred, is as untrue as it would be injurious. It is one of those generalities which are so fascinating
to the mind, because they seem to condense a great deal of
knowledge in a very small compass. It has no foundation in
reason, because it assumes to set bounds to the sovereignty:
it has none, in fact, because the course of human affairs has
repeatedly contradicted it.
The author of "SNew Views of the Constitution" argues
that there are only two ways in which it is conceivable, the
sovereignty of the states forming a confederacy can be aliena34




530             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOKl IV.
ted: to the people in the aggregate, or to the government;
and as there is no aggregate people in such a community, and
as those who administer the government are only agents, he
concludes that in the formation of the federal constitution of
America, no alienation has been made. The objection is easily
answered. There is a third mode which may be, and actually
has been, adopted. The alienation wvas by the states separately, to the states jointly.
WThen individuals unite to form a government, each conveys
to all. When states do the same, each also conveys to all.
Not merely does the administration of the government appertain to this newly created power, but the government itself,
the federal authority, resides in the states jointly. That the
American states entered separately into the confederacy, and
separately ratified it, does not contradict, but is in exact agree~ment with this view. For how can the concurrence of all be
ascertained but by taking the vote of each separately, upon
the question whether they do concur. No other device can be
imagined by which this consent can be effected. The states
are, by the supposition, separate, and independent communities, and we wish to ascertain whether they concur in lodging
a vast mass of power in a joint association, and displacing it
from the separate jurisdictions where it before existed. It is
clear that every act done, up to the time when the new power
is actually created, must be separate; otherwise the states
would be a joint association, before the compact creating them
such would have been made. The consent of each is then necessary to create the joint society of states, and when this is effected, a large amount of power which before resided in the
states separately, is made to reside in them jointly. Nor does
it vary the matter whether the consent was given before or
after the formation of the constitution. When several act
together, the consent of each is necessary; for how could it
become the act of all, if it were not the act of each. A treaty
which is separately ratified by two or more nations, is the
joint act of both, precisely because it is the act of each. It
would not be more effectually the act of both, if each had
given fall power to its ambassadors to make the treaty,
consenting to be bound by their acts, and waiving all ratification. The separate consent of each would still be necessary to




CHAP. II. ]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  531
this agreement. But that the treaty would be the fruit of a
joint, not of a single authority, is manifest; for the consent of
all the parties, not the will of one, would be necessary to
unmrake it. And yet the ratification by the American states,
after the constitution was formed, is supposed by the ingenious
author I have referred to, to prove that it was the act of each,
and not the act of each and all, between which there is the
greatest imaginable difference. That it was not the act of a
majority of the states, but of the states unanimously, does not
prove that it was the act of each separately; for the consent
of each would be necessary to make the act of a majority binding.
In a consolidated republic, the united wills of individuals
make the constitution, although the vote of each is taken; and
in a confederate republic, the joint will, not the will of any one
member, makes the government, although the vote of each is
also separately taken.  In those private associations, which
reflect the image of a large state, on a small scale,' each member has entered separately; but its constitution is a joint act:
every exercise of authority is from the necessity of the case,
joint, and not several: all effective power over the subject matter within its jurisdiction, resides in the association, not in the
government set up by it, nor in the agents appointed to administer it, but in the joint society to which the separate wills of
individuals have given birth. In like manner, in a federal government, the sovereignty over the common interests is transferred by each, not to the government, but to the states jointly.
No other supposition is admissible; nor does it require any
metaphysical acumen to perceive that power may reside in
states jointly, as well as in states separately. That the consent to make the transfer, and the transfer itself, are uno flatu,
need not puzzle us, for such is the case in every species of political transaction.
Second. Secession is not the exercise of an act of sovereignty, but the reverse. Between it and the veto of a state, there
is a clear and broad distinction. Secession is an unequivocal
admission, that the sovereignty does not reside in the state
seceding. An act of sovereignty removes officers, abolishes
offices, alters constitutions, extinguishes the powers exercised
by the government. In the case of secession, instead of the




532             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
constitution and laws being removed out of the way of the discontented state, the state itself removes out of the way. This
is a plain recognition, that it is not vested with sovereignty
over the federal government, has no right to assume it, and
that it is obliged to succumb to it. It is precisely like the
emigration of individuals from a country whose government
is a consolidated one, who become discontented with the condition in which they are placed, or with the institutions under
which they live, and remove to another country. They are
aware that, as individual members of society, they have no
right to control the government. Instead of assuming to do
so, they quietly withdraw from it. A confederate government,
being the result of a joint compact between the members, and
not the act of alny one singly, the veto would be the usurpation of a power, which cannot belong to a single member. It
would transform a joint into a single government. Secession
admits the incompetency of the seceding state to do so, and
instead of bending the government to its will, it is compelled
to bend to the will of the government. Great mistakes have
been committed from confounding secession with the veto.
They are entirely different from each other, as the preceding
observations sufficiently show.
There are different forms of confederate government; and
it may be supposed that the question whether the right of secession exists cannot be decided, without having regard to the
precise form which is adopted. The Amphyctionic, Achxean,
Italian, and German confederacies, were all different. The
Achaean had this peculiarity, that the states composing it
were obliged to adopt the same domestic institutions, as well
as to submit to one uniform rule of federal legislation. The
former and present confederations of the United States were
also very-different. There is one circumstance, however, in
which they all agree, and that is in possessing a common federal jurisdiction, distinct from  the jurisdiction which each
state possesses within its own territory. They were all governments, although the amount of power which was wielded
by the federal head varied in all. Thus the former and, present confederacies of the United States were constitutions;
otherwise, they would not have been governments. We term
both federal unions, in order to distinguish them from the con



CHAP. II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               533
solidated form of government. The principal feature in which
they differed, was in the operation of the laws. In the first
these, as a general rule, acted upon the states, but not universally, for they were sometimes executed upon individuals. In
the second, the laws, as a general rule, operate upon individuals, but not without exception. There are some instances in
which they operate upon the states directly. There is one
feature, however, in which these two governments resemble
each other, and that is in the binding and obligatory force of
all the federal laws upon all the people. The mode in which
these laws are executed cannot vary the obligation, to obey
them. In both, congress was the source whence these laws
emanated; in some instances, executing them through the instrumentality of agents appointed by the central power. The
disposition and arrangement of the federal authority presents
a question of more or less convenience in the administration
of the government, but does not affect the validity and supremacy of the laws.
When the federal government depends upon the states for
the execution of the laws, and they are not executed, the delinquent member may be coerced into obedience by the whole
force of the confederacy. But the coercion of a state implies
the coercion of the individuals composing it: and thus we are
led to the same conclusion, that every form of confederacy is
a constitution and government; that the laws are equally obligatory upon the citizens, and that the distinction between
them consists in the more orless perfect machinery which is
employed to enforce them. In all there is a division of the
sovereignty, one portion being retained by the states separately, and the residue alienated, not to the central government, but to the states jointly. The distinction, then, so far
as it affects the right of secession, is not between the more or
less perfect form of federal government, but between a federal
and consolidated government. This is the only test in our
power, in order to determine when the right of secession exists.
Very imperfect notions were entertained, even under the
former confederacy, of the structure and attributes of the
state governments. In the debates of the convention, (Yates
notes, p. 184,) Mr. Madison says, " the states at present are




534             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
only great corporations, having the power of making by-laws."
"The states never possessed the essential attributes of sovereignty. These were always vested in congress." Hte then
compares the states to the counties of which they are composed, and argues, that as the counties are not sovereign, the
states cannot be. If so fine a mind could err so greatly with
regard to the appropriate authority of the states, it will not
appear surprising that very inadequate notions are entertained
at the present day. From one extreme, political writers have
plunged into another.
A great principle can never depend for proof of its validity
upon examples, since these may contradict some other principle of equally high authority. But where the example has
been deduced from the principle, and could not have existed
without it, it is of wonderful use in testing its value. It is
then a direct corallary from the principle, and not merely a
happy illustration of it. The confederation of 1778 was broken up by secession. The articles on which it was founded provided that no alteration should ever be made, unless with the
unanimous consent of the states who were parties to it. The
states were not unanimous in the change which substituted
another ordinance, and converted the government into the
present confederation. Rhode Island and North Carolina rejected the scheme, and may have remained out of the union
to the present day. Eleven states thus seceded from the old
confederation. If it should be said that these states did not
secede because the new government erected in place of the
old, was itself a federal union; the answer is, that any change
of the articles, much more the radical change which led to the
formation of a new government, was absolutely prohibited
unless the consent of each state was obtained. Indeed the
futility of the objection will be manifest on a very little reflection. If two or more states were now to assemble in convention, or if all the states were so to assemble, and by a majority of votes should form a different federal government, it
would be absurd to say they had not seceded, because the
form of polity which they had established had one or more
features in common with the former. But if, in order to test
the bearing of the objection, we should admit it to be well
founded, the difficulty still exists. The states of North Caro



CHAP. II.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              535
lina and Rhode Island then seceded. Their right to remain out
of the new union, was never disputed; it was openly and unequivocally admitted. The congress under the new government never dreamed of coercing them into an adherence to it,
but dealt with them as independent nations; and as I have
before observed, they may have continued to this day separate
and independent states.
There is another difficulty which presses upon us, and which
creates more than a doubt whether the states composing a
confederation are mere corporations, or municipal bodies, like
the provinces and departments of a consolidated government.
The states of Rhode Island, New York and Virginia, in ratifying the constitution, expressly reserved the right to secede.
The first declared " that the powers of government may be reassumed by the people, whenever it shall become necessary to
their happiness." The second made a declaration in precisely
the same language. Rhode Island entered the union a considerable time after New York, and copied the language which
had been used by the New York convention. The ratification
of Virginia declared that " the powers granted under the constitution, being derived from the people of the United States,
may be resumed by them, whenever the same shall be perverted to their injury or oppression."  No language can be
more precise and unequivocal. Each of these states declare
that, although on entering into the confederacy a division of
the sovereignty was made between the states jointly and the
states separately, this partition was not inconsistent with a
withdrawal from the union, and that the right to secede was
reserved to the states respectively. No tribunal is erected or
contemplated, in order to determine the course of action of
the states, when the crisis arrives. The question whether the
trusts conferred upon the federal government have been perverted, or in the unqualified language of New York and Rhode
Island, " whether the happiness of their people would be promoted" s by a resumption of the powers granted, is not submitted to any tribunal under the federal government. The
supreme court of the United States is never alluded to. Its
interference is, by necessary implication, precluded. No such
disposition could possibly be made of the matter. A judicial
tribunal is unable to determine a question of expediency: it




536             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
is only adopted to adjudicate cases where the naked qustion of
right is presented. The constitution has skillfully guarded
the peace of the confederacy, while the states remain in it, by
referring the constitutionality of the laws to the supreme
court. But what causes shall be of sufficient magnitude to
induce a state to withdraw altogether from the operation of
the constitution and laws, and by thus withdrawing, to avoid
all conflict between state and federal jurisdiction, is, from the
necessity of the case, submitted to the state itself. This is
the undisguised avowal of the three states I have referred to;
it is equally so of the whole Union, which accepted these
declarations as conformable with the fundamental principles
of a confederate government, and thereby ratify them. As
one member of a federal union cannot possess any higher federal right than is enjoyed by all, the inference is direct, that
even if the right of secession were not an inherent attribute
ct confederate states, it is at least reserved to every American
state. The time has gone by when we can conceal the truth,
from a persuasion that the knowledge of it may be abused.
The discovery will assuredly be made, and if made in the
midst of a settled and determined opposition to its promulgation, all the institutions of society, and not one merely, will
be in jeopard.y  The European doctrine is, that in matters of
government, it is necessary that statesmen should have both
a secret and a declared opinion. The maxim in America
should be, that the justest use will, in the long run, be most
likely to be made of every right, where it is clearly, frankly
and unreservedly admitted.
The value and importance of the principle I have been endeavoring to unfold, will be appreciated, when it is recollected
that in every community whose population comes to be spread
over a wider and wider arena, a diversity of views, habits and
customs will necessarily grow up, over which the laws can
very imperfectly preside. Even Charlemagne, who wielded
the power of one of the most consolidated governments which
ever existed, was compelled to declare that "it was impossible
for the central authority to watch over every interest with all
the care which was desirable, or to retain every one in the
path he should follow."
All writers on public law, agree that in the event of intoler



CHAP. II.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                537
able oppression, the people are justified in making resistance
to the government. The terms in which this proposition is
conceived are very remarkable. 1st. The cases which will
authorize so violent a departure from the settled order of
things, are not enumerated and defined. The principle is expressed in language the most general and ambiguous. 2d.
The idea of a tribunal to sit in judgment upon the controversies which may lead to revolution, is not entertained, but is
directly repudiated. 3d. The maxim is proclaimed in governments which are supposed to possess an absolute and selfexisting authority. The principle is attended wihh dangers of
the greatest magnitude, and yet we can discover no way of
escaping from it. The great desideratum then, is to be able
to contrive some expedient which will exempt us from this
stern necessity, which will substitute peaceable in the place of
violent revolution. The aggregate form of government does
not admit of this remedy; the confederate does. Instead of
forcible resistance to the federal head, instead of unlawful
attempts to annul the laws of the Union, while the member is
within it, that member is at liberty quietly to depart, while
others retain their position in the confederacy. This is one of
the most important attributes of a federal government. Secession is the instrument happily substituted in the place of open
hostility to the laws. So that in the confederate form of government, the law itself provides against those great emergencies which in other countries are said to make the laws for
themselves.
The great risk which will be incurred by the seceding member, the disadvantageous position in which it will be placed,
standing alone in the midst of a firm and compact league, will
operate as a powerful check upon its conduct, and will prevent
recourse to such an extreme measure, unless it can be justified
before the bar of public opinion. At the same time, the open
recognition of the right to secede, will render it disgraceful to
embark in any scheme of concerted resistance to the laws while
the state continues a member of the Union. The explicit recognition of the right will also operate as a salutary restraint
upon the central government. If one or two states seceded,
they would inevitably be the losers: it would be staking every
thing upon the cast of a dye. But if several threatened to do




538             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
the same, the confederacy would be in danger of being deprived
of so much strength and importance, that every measure which
prudence and calm judgment could suggest, would be adopted
to avert so great a calamity. The public councils would be
marked by more reflection, when a moral agency was substituted in the place of brute force. iRhode Island and North
Carolina were resolute in their opposition to the present constitution, and for a time refused to enter into the Union.
Congress pursued towards them the same course which it did
towards the European states: it treated them as independent
nations, and applied to them the laws relative to discriminating duties. This contributed greatly to change their resolution. They entered the confederacy, one of them two years
after it was formed; and motives still more powerful, will
deter either from now seceding. The right of secession, then,
is a weapon of defence of great efficacy in the hands of the
states, but it supposes one still more efficacious in the hands
of the federal government. The advantages of union are so
manifold, the position of a member, when isolated is so insignificant, and when united with others, so commanding, that
nothing but the greatest injustice, or the most irreconcilable
diversity of interests will occasion the exercise of the right.
Instances of secession are accordingly very rare. Two of the
states composing the Boetian confederacy seceded, and the
dismemberment of the provinces of Holland and Belgium may
perhaps be regarded as similar. They were united in one
confederacy in 1814, and were disunited in 1830, by the withdrawal of Holland. The rupture was occasioned in part by an
irreconcilable difference in the religious creeds of the two
peoples, and in part by the improper interference of the central government with the education of the people.
The principle of representation is one of the finest expedients which has been devised, for perfecting the machinery of
government. In a country of great extent, it is ineffectual,
unless it is combined with another principle of equal importance. This consists in dividing the territory, if it has not
previously been divided into separate jurisdictions, and investing each with complete control over its domestic interests. If
this is not done, the general and local interests will be confounded. The last can be but imperfectly represented or un



CHAP. II.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                539
derstood, and yet will be subjected to the same undistinguishing majority, which rules over the national interests. The
principle of representation, would then fail to answer the end it
was intended to reach. The United States, in consequence of
the great extent of country, presented greater obstacles than
any other country, to the solution of the difficulty; and it is
the one in which the nearest approach has been made to that
solution. But it by no means follows, that the confederate
form of government may be carried to any extent, that there
is no limit to the number of states which may be combined in
one Union. It would be more correct to say, that there is a
limit, although happily, it is difficult to define it. It is like a
great many other interests appertaining to society, in which the
rules are certain enough, and yet the precise circumstances
under which they are applicable, are difficult to predict. The
time will certainly come, when the same causes which led to
the formation of the present Union, will lead to the formation
of two or more Unions. The institution of government, as I
remarked in a preceding chapter, is an experiment to classify,
to reduce to unity, the diversified rights and interests, which
spring up in society. But the generalization may be pushed
so far as to trespass upon the interests of the parts, in spite of
the machinery of the local governments. The time, however,
must not be anticipated. Union is itself one means of overcoming geographical differences, and harmonizing geographical parties. These parties were appealed to in the convention
of 1787, and in the succeeding state conventions, as opposing
insuperable difficulties to the formation of a federal constitution. In the period which has elapsed, no country has been
so happy and prosperous, none so free from civil dissensions,
none which has so well succeeded in reconciling a large amount
of liberty, with the requisite energy in government.




540            NATURE AND TENDENCY              LBOOK IV.
CHAPTER III.
THE EXECUTIVE POWER.
IT is more difficult to form a distinct idea of the executive
than of any other department of the government. In some
countries it comprehends nearly the whole authority of the
state, not to be sure dispensing with laws, but usurping to
itself the sole power of ordaining them. In absolute monarchies, the prince is legislator, judge, and ministerial magistrate. The permanence of the executive is doubtless one reason
why, in the majority of governments, it has been the most
imposing authority. The minds of men are more strongly
impressed with the notion of government, when its image is
constantly before them, than by the occasional or periodical
exercise of authority by a legislative body, the members of
which are disbanded during a great part of the year. The
political institutions of a state may be said to perform two
distinct offices: First, to hold society together, to maintain
civilization; and secondly, to administer the interests of that
society. The last implies a mere agency, a delegation of power
by the members to conduct the affairs of the community with
judgment and discretion. Nor is the first at all inconsistent
with the same notion of delegated authority; on the contrary,
the various elements of which society is composed, its divers
population, and differen t interests, are never so firmly cemented
together, as where government represents the will of the
people.  But this is a character which it has seldom acquired. The institution of a prince, termed by way of eminence the executive magistrate, has been deemed necessary
almost every where, to bind together the parts of society, and
to give a character of unity to the authority of the state. It
is this notion of unity perpetually revolving in the mind, in
matters of goverment as well as religion, which gives a shape
to the political institutions, and enabled the prince to center




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               541
in himself nearly all power. The gradual and unobstructed
progress of society, wherever it takes place, at length sets
bounds to this state of things. As civilization advances,
public affairs become so unwieldy and complicated, that it
is physically impossible for one mind to preside over them,
much less to administer them in person. The prince commucates his authority to subordinate agents, in order to relieve
himself from the burden, but by so doing he, step by step,
diminishes his influence, loses his prerogatives, and prepares
the way for more regular institutions. He appoints judges
and administrative officers, to do thoroughly what he had been
able very imperfectly to perform. A legislative body soon
after makes its appearance, at first only representing constructively the society in which it is assembled. And as this
body will necessarily have a close connection with all those
affairs which are immediately superintended by the ministers
of the crown, it ultimately acquires a considerable control
upon the crown itself. It at first influences, but in the progress
of time, it absolutely determines the appointment and removal
of those ministers. The prince, in order to relieve himself
from the cares of public business, and to have more time to
devote to the gratification of his pleasures, or ambition, assists
in raising up a host of officers in the state; by so doing he
causes a larger proportion of the people to be trained to the
understanding and management of public affairs, and without
intending any such thing, creates a counterpoise to his own
authority. Through the operation of the same causes, which
speedily give birth to some species of legislative assembly, the
judges no longer expound a code of laws enacted by the sole
authority of the king. The legislature is at first permitted
sparingly to interferfere with such high matters, but in progress of time it is enabled to speak out audibly and intelligibly,
and the judges are then freed from a servile dependence upon
the executive magistrate. He retains the power of appointment, but as soon as it is made, a new relation is established
between the judges and the community at large, and they are
declared irremovable at his pleasure. Their responsibility
becomes both more strict and more extensive, and the laws
are consequently administered in a much more enlightened
manner than before. The powers which are thus gradually




542             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
wrested from the king are not extinguished, but they are
deposited in other hands where they are even amplified and
strengthened. The commonwealth gains in power much more
than the monarch loses. In order that the increasing demand
of the state for the services of its citizens may be fully answered, knowledge and education are sought after by every one.
And thus at length, that invisible but powerful authority which
we denominate public opinion, comes to preside over every
movement of the government, and to fulfill more completely
than ever the notion of unity, which continues to float in the
mind, whatever may be the mutations which the political institutions undergo.
It is through a circuitous process, then, that a gradual separation of the executive from the legislative and judicial authority takes place, and that three distinct departments are
created. But this separation is hardly ever complete. The
same difficulty which we have to encounter in every other
branch of knowledge, meets us with redoubled force in political philosophy. The principles are given, but the facts do not
all agree, or the facts are given, but the principles which we
look to do not exactly correspond. The limits however which
are drawn around the human mind, even in matters of this
kind, are never so absolutely fixed but that we may sometimes escape from the dilemma. It is often possible, by the
application of principles which do not strictly correspond with
the facts, to produce an alteration in the facts themselves, to
give rise, in other words, to an altered condition of society,
and then the disagreement will in great part disappear.
The thorough introduction of the elective principle into the
government, effects a separation of the different departments
from each other. This is a natural and a very important consequence of the establishment of representative government.
Where public officers are chosen by the people, it is with a
view to the performance of some prescribed duty, and the exercise of some precise and definite power. But as soon as a
practical and determinate end is sought after, the functions of
the different officers lose all the vagueness and ambiguity
which before hung over them. The prince consulted materially
the interests of society when he laid down some of his prerogatives, although it was only for the sake of his convenience.




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               543
But the people go straight forward to the same end, as soon
as they possess the electoral franchise in its full extent. A
feeling of convenience also determines them to remold the institutions. But as this view to convenience has reference to
the general good, to the practical affairs of society, the work
is performed more completely by them.
As the prince is not elected, but is a hereditary magistrate,
the powers with which he is clothed have been determined by
accident only. Hence his prerogatives are neither adjusted
by any distinct rules, nor to the actual exigencies of society.
His title commenced at some remote period, when society was
full of noise and confusion-when the human mind was not
sufficiently instructed, nor the interests of the community
sufficiently developed, to give any determinate character to
his functions. At first, by dint of superstition, or force, afterward, by means of the vast influence which his strong position enables him to command, he succeeds in maintaining the
most extravagant and contradictory powers, and this long
after society is prepared for an entire change in the structure
of his office.
When not merely the public officers who fill the various departments are elected, but in addition to this, the entire system
of government is founded upon a written constitution, the opportunity and the power to effect a separation between these
departments are both increased. The experience which has
been previously acquired, the adaptation which each part of
the government has obtained in practice, to one appropriate
end and no other, are seized by those who assemble in the
constitutional convention, and suggest certain fundamental
rules, by which to give fixation and stability to the plan. A
constitution is indeed only a generalization of the diversified
rights, duties, and exigencies of men in society. And when
the generalization is made upon reflection and deliberationwhen it is brought to bear upon matters which have been the
subject of actual experiment —it is necessarily more distinct
as well as more comprehensive.
It has been proposed to elect the president of the United
States by lot. This mode of choice is thought to be peculiarly
adapted to a democratic republic, which presupposes that all
the citizens stand upon an equality. This is to take a one



544              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOI IV.
sided view of the matter, a course which is always attended
with error. The great principle of equality demands that all
the citizens should have free liberty of choice in selecting persons capable of managing their affairs. We attribute to them
equal rights, and straightforward adopt an arrangement which
overthrows the most important of those rights. We start
with the principle of liberty, and then inconsistently introduce
a principle which causes the actions of'every one to be controlled by a rigid necessity. The principle of equality does
not require that all the citizens should succeed in turn to
the presidency, for that is an impossibility: but it does r,quire that all should be equally eligible. Now the only way in
which it is possible to reconcile this right with that of free
choice, is by the establishment of the elective principle. If
there twere any inconsistency between the two, it is plain that
the former should yield to the latter, as being of superior importance. But in truth, there is no inconsistency. The right
to hold office would be a frivolous and unmeaning one, if it
were not combined with the principle of election. That can
not be called a right, whose existence is absolutely dependent
upon blind chance or an irreversible necessity. That only is a
right in society which springs from the free consent of society.
It is because the principle of election is calculated to carry to
perfection all the other rights of mankind, that it is made the
corner stone of a republic; and it is because the lot would
confound and subvert those rights, that it should be rejected.
If in a community of twenty millions of people, the chief
magistrate, legislature, and judges were chosen by lot, it is
evident that the selection would, in the greater number of instances, be very unfortunate. That it might be so, would be
a sufficient objection; but that it would necessarily be so, is
an insuperable one. Offices are created because they are in.
dispensable to the management of the public interests, to the
well-being of society.  But the office is an empty thing, a
mere abstraction, unless it is filled by some one who is competent to discharge the duties; and integrity, ability, and experience, are all necessary to fulfil this design. A state, then,
which is founded upon republican principles, which undertakes
to procure the greatest happiness of the greatest number, is
entitled to the services of those citizens who possess these




CHAP. III.3      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              545
qualities. That the elective principle will not invariably secure this advantage, is no objection to it; but that it does
actually attain it, to a much greater extent than any other
system which has been devised, is a conclusive reason why it
should be adhered to.
In order to avoid the difficulties which attend the lot, it has
been proposed to combine with it the principle of free choice,
as in the case of the Venetian doge. Hillhouse's plan, the
earliest which was presented to the American public, and the
parent of all others, contemplated the election of president by
lot from among the senators. A plan, presented twenty-five
years later, proposed that he should be chosen in the same
way from members of the house of representatives. This, to
be sure, reversed the Venetian scheme in which the doge was
elected by forty-one nobles, they themselves having been appointed by lot. The two plans, however, are substantially the
same; in both, there is a combination of choice and chance.
But there is no arrangement in which the lot enters as an element, which is not objectionable. The lot might fall upon
some senator or representative who was eminently unfit for
the station. The manner in which the fortunate individual
succeeded to the chief magistracy, would be exposed to the
same objection as exists to monarchical government. The
prince reigns by accident, and the selection of the president
would be determined by accident, also. The community would
be unable to profit by the lessons of experience; it would not
have the power on a succeeding occasion, to cure the error
which had been committed. The lot might fall successively
upon those who had not the requisite qualifications.
The objections to a free and untrammeled election, are the
very argument I should employ in favor of it.  They who
propose the lot, have fastened their attention upon the prevailing spirit of party. It is to prevent the eternal din and confusion which it occasions, that they have presented this plan.
Zealous and patriotic individuals they are, for they wish to
attain all the good which is attainable; but they are not: sufficiently apprised of the means through which alone this desirable object can be reached.
It may be very important that the president of the United
States should be chosen by a party. Parties, whatever may
35




546             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BooOK IV.
be the exterior form which they wear, almost always contain
the elements of great improvement. They are among the instruments which are appointed to push the race of mankind
forward. The heated passions and fierce disputes through
which they sometimes cause themselves to be heard, are the
only means in a society not enlightened above what it falls to
the lot of humanity to be, by which any signal change in the
public policy of the state, or the condition of the people, can
be attained. In- elective government, public men may be said
to be the representatives of the ideas of the age, as well as of
the grosser interests with Which they have to deal; and to
give those ideas a visible form, is the most certain way of
commanding public attention, and of stimulating inquiry.
It would be a noble undertaking, if it were practicable, to
separate the mischievous qualities of parties from the good
they contain; to suppress the one and retain the other. But
that is impossible as men are now constituted. To endeavor
to rid ourselves of the anxieties and sufferings of life, would
be an attempt to free society from the most wholesome discipline to which it is at present subjected. No important end
can be attained-perhaps none is worthy of being attainedunless it is through some sort of difficulty and danger. These
are not merely to be viewed as obstructions in the way, which
it requires some strength to overcome, but as constant monitors to remind us of our own imperfections, while we are endeavoring to rectify those of others. The innumerable annoyances of which party spirit is the occasion, are planted in the
walks of public life, in order to exercise a similar influence.
That we complain of them, may be only a proof that they have
the desired effect. That the lot would contribute to banish
parties from the commonwealth, instead of being a recommendation, therefore, is a solid and conclusive objection to it.
Men undoubtedly take upon themselves a difficult task, and
involve themselves in a great many troubles, when they undertake to elect the highest officers in the state. But it is the
only way by which the people can be trained and habituated
to the practice of self-government. If public affairs go wrong,
they cannot say it is government which has done the mischief,
and we will revolt and overturn the existing authority; but
they are brought, after a painful and instructive experience,




CHAP. IMI.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                547
to understand that they are themselves the direct authors of
the public distress, and that they alone have the power to
remedy it. Thus a great number of petty misfortunes have
the effect of averting an enormous evil.
The popular election of the American President has not
been productive of the mischiefs which were anticipated. Instead of wild disorder and misrule, it has been eminently
favorable to public tranquillity. This is a necessary consequence of the elective principle as it is applied in the United
States. By communicating the electoral franchise freely, and
at the same time distributing into small fragments the bodies
which exercise it, the ability to do mischief is very much
abridged. The machinery which sets in motion the elections,
is like the machinery of a federal government. It acts upon
the whole mass; and yet through springs so numerous and so
fine, as to combine all the strength of a consolidated government, with all the freedom of a popular one. The. share of
power which each individual exercises is so small that he is
constantly reminded of his insignificance, and does not boast
of his importance, while the principle of the majority is so
imposing and authoritative in its influence, as to command
instant and universal obedience to the laws. It may, indeed,
be laid down as a maxim in politics, that the danger to the
institutions is diminished, rather than increased, in proportion
to the enlargement of the electoral franchise.
Representative government imposes a check upon the electors, as well as upon the elected. It is not apt to be viewed in
this light. The accountability of the public officer to his constituents, was the thing to which public attention was directed, when free institutions were first established. That was a
novelty before. No man, it is true, ever ventured to deny
that he was under an obligation to consult the welfare of the
people over whose interests he presided; but amid the contradictory elements of monarchical and aristocratical government, the principle could never be made to have a practical operation, much less to assume the supreme authority to
which it is entitled. A responsibility, however, on the part
of the public agents, cannot exist in full vigor,'without creating a counter principle of equal strength and efficacy. The
numerous magistrates who are created, the regular system of




548             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
administration which grows up in spite of the popular character of the institutions, stamps upon the government a degree
of authority which either wins or compels the obedience of
all. Not only is the responsibility of the citizens to the public increased, but what is of more consequence, the responsibility of each to the whole society is lightened.
The, public officer is made responsible to the people, for the
very obvious reason, that their interests are involved in every
act of his public life. A perception on their part of what is
advantageous for the public weal, is necessary to place the
officer in that relation. Unless this condition is admitted, the
whole theory of representative government falls to the ground.
Nor is it necessary to entertain any fanciful views with regard
to popular intelligence, in order to suppose that this condition
may be fulfilled. There is but one way in which that perception of what is useful and fit can be gained, but one way in
which any sort of practical knowledge can be acquired; and
that is, by placing those for whom such knowledge is desirable, in a situation where they will be sure to realize the
consequences which will follow from pursuing opposite courses.
It is supposed that if the lot is established, we shall get rid of
all the noise and confusion of elections, that everything will
go on smoothly, that the officer will feel greater pride in the
discharge of his duties, when he occupies an independent
position, than when he was a candidate, and obliged before
hand to shape his conduct so as to meet all sorts of contradictory opinions. But this extreme smoothness of public affairs
I have constantly observed to be inconsistent with much progress in society, and to be invariably followed by commotions
and disturbances afterward. These commotions are the compensations of a bad system of government, and have been the
only means by which European society has been prevented
from falling into the sluggish and inert condition of a Chinese
population. Popular elections not only afford employment to
the superabundant activity of the people, but they create innumerable checks upon the conduct of public men. They
thus act by way of prevention, in warding oft great mischiefs,
instead of encountering them, after they have arrived, by
calamities still more formidable. It is a great mistake to suppose that public men would possess more integrity, patriotism,




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               549
or knowledge, if they were less interfered with. The mistake
would be fully as great, if we were to suppose that the people
would be more peaceable and orderly, or anything like as inquisitive and well informed on public matters, or indeed on
any matters whatever, if the lot were substituted in the place
of elections. I am so persuaded of the utility of the last, so
well satisfied that the advantages which they procure could
be obtained in no other way, and these advantages accrue
not merely in spite of, but in consequence of the inconveniences which are complained of, that I would dispense with
even more of the ease and comfort of individuals, if that
were necessary, in order to retain them. I know no other
plan by which it is possible to keep alive the intelligence of
the great bulk of the adult population; none by which it is
possible to give activity to the popular mind, a.nd at the same
time to exercise it upon subjects which shall have interest
and importance enough to lift it above the narrow round of
ordinary pursuits. I know of no other plan by which it is
possible to maintain the integrity, industry, and activity of
public men. An eminent physician has said that life and
bodily health are forced states. And so are intellectual and
moral health. Many hard and disagreeable things are necessary to preserve the former, and annoyances, privations, and
inconveniences, of one kind or other, are equally necessary to
preserve the latter. There is hardly any one but what would
pass away life in a state of careless ease, if he were permitted.
In youth we are constrained to do otherwise by the superintending hand which guides us, and in manhood we are driven
to exertion, and to the pursuit of laudable ends, not less by
the wants of life, than by the constant interference of others
with every plan of conduct which we may pursue. The elective system only carries out this part of the economy of human
nature; the difficulties and temptations with which it surrounds both the electors and the candidates, may force a state
of moral and intellectual culture, but after it is obtained, it
becomes the natural state. And everything then goes on more
easily and quietly than it would in any other society. For I
do not find that public affairs in the United States have been
reduced to less system, that they have been conducted in a
less orderly manner, or with a view to the attainment of ob



550             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [nBOO IV.
jects of less magnitude and importance than in other countries. On the contrary, I believe that in consequence of the
conflict of parties, the public will has been more steadily directed to the advancement of the public weal than in any
other county. The disputes and contentions of parties have
been favorable to that unity of purpose which is demanded in
all human affairs. The more frequent and varied these disputes are, the more they help to strip both public men and
public measures of whatever is adventitious about them. The
former are observed more readily, and the analysis of the latter becomes easier.
It is not surprising that the popular election of chief magistrate in the United States has never led to any political disturbance. The elective principle cures the mischiefs which
have been. apprehended from the contests of parties. The lot
would deprive us of the most valuable means for maintaining
free institutions. It would annul the use of experience, or render its application impossible. It would cut asunder the bond
which now connects the representative with his constituents;
and would remove the check which the exercise of the elective
franchise imposes upon the electors themselves. It would be
better that the lot should be applied to the choice of any other
officer than that of president, for in this, the election is on so
large a scale, that it, raises the minds of the people above the
narrow and contracted views which they are sometimes prone
to take of public affairs. It gives them large objects to look
at, and thus refreshes their feelings, and expands their minds.
There is the greatest imaginable difference between the election of a king of Poland, and of the American president. It
was precisely because there were no parties of the people in
Poland, that that unhappy country was filled with confusion
whenever the time of election came round. The body of nobles who were masters of the landed property, had thereby a
mortgage upon the understandings of the people. Factions
there were, but parties had no existence. It was not because
the prize was so high; it was because the election was managed by a close body, that Poland was a prey to every species
of intrigue and violence. Parties are unfavorable to civil
commotion, while factions engender and support them: one
reason of which is, that parties in any country of tolerable




CHAP. IIT.]       OF FREE INSTiTUTIONS.               551
extent are so large, that in order to enable them to act, they
must be subdivided into still smaller parties-into bodies so
numerous as to render intrigue or intimidation very difficult:
whereas factions concentrate immense power in a small compass. The principle of the distribution of power, is applied
in the one case, but not in the other. Thus in the UTnited
States, the people assemble at ten or fifteen thousand places
to vote for a president; and in Poland, the election was con.
ducted by a ferocious band of nobles all armed and collected
upon one spot. The experiment of electing the chief magistrate has succeeded in America, because it has operated in a
manner different from what was expected. It has succeeded,
because the election is in effect by the people, and not by the
electoral colleges.
The unity of the executive power is regarded as a fundamental principle in political science. In this, there is a striking distinction between antiquity and our own times. It is
remarkable that almost all the capital rules of government
have undergone a revolution in modern times. In the ancient
commonwealths, the principle of representation was applied
to the executive, but not to the legislature. A hereditary nobility, which has made a figure in the modern European states,
was unknown to the ancient. And the constitution of the
executive presents us with a third example of the great diversity between the old and new systems of government. A
plural executive was considered, by the ancient law-givers, as
indispensable to the right ordering of a state. In the Spartan.commonwealth, there were two kings, in the Athenian the
archons, at Rome two consuls. The elevation of the great
body of the people in modern times, has given birth to the
principle of representation, as applied to the legislative body.
A hereditary nobility is tfle offspring of feudal institutions,
and to the decay of those institutions we may trace the unity
of the executive power. The chieftain who centered in himself the greatest amount of authority, who was able to bridle
the ferocity of the other barons, and to impose an iron arm
upon their will, usurped the supremacy under the title of
king.
De Lalme is the most vigorous defender of the unity of the
executive, and his views are entitled to great attention. This




552              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
indivisibility of the executive authority, he says, fulfills two
very important and apparently opposite conditions. Power is
more easily confined when it is one; while at the same time,
it is placed more completely above the reach of assault. But
a train of reason which is suggested by the frame of the English constitution, may be very inapplicable to other forms of
government; still less may it be entitled to rank among the
fundamental principles of the science. If our design be to establish regal government, if we determine to create an executive magistrate, with vast powers and prerogatives, it is certain that we will produce one effect. The prestige and lustre
which will surround the office, independently of the positive
authority which is conferred upon it, will make a powerful
impression upon the imaginations of the people. They will
be awed to obedience, to a bad as well as to a good government. The throne will acquire great stability, conspiracies to
overturn it will rarely be formed; although it may be free
from the wholesome interference of public opinion, it will at
any rate, be placed above the assaults of ambitious men. But
these are all consequences of the artificial character which is
at the outset commnunicated to the executive: and unless its
imposing prerogatives are an inseparable condition from its
existence, we are not obliged to leap to the general conclusion,
th t therefore the executive should be one. For if, on the
other hand, we intend to establish a republican form of government, the executive will be elective; the precise authority
assigned to it will be settled by a constitutional ordinance,
and not be left to stand upon the debatable ground of opinion.
The office will be less dazzling, but it will on that very account
be less open to attack. It will not affect the imaginations of
men so strongly, but it will acquire a firmer hold upon their
understandings. It will be protected by a real force,. instead
of by an invisible agency, and will secure the obedience of the
people by the practical benefits it dispenses.
In these two examples, the structure of the government is
totally different, and yet results in some respects similar may
take place, but without any regard, so far as we can yet see, to
the fact, whether in the last the executive is a single or a
plural body.
The second position of IDe Lalme, that the executive power




CHAP. III.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              553
is more easily confined when it is one, is as a general proposition more questionable than the first. The condensation of
power is the chief circumstance which renders it formidable
and difficult to be restrained. And it is for this reason that
free governments proceed upon the plan of distributing power,
as the most certain means of. controlling it. The splendid attributes which are ascribed to a hereditary prince, overpower
the minds of the great majority of mankind; the people are
incapacitated from making resistance to the most alarming
exercise of authority, or from rectifying the most inveterate
abuses; for a feeling of superstition has taken possession of
them, and they feel as if they were ruled over by a force
superior to society. And when to this is added the physical
power which is placed at the command of this single individual, it is obvious that if he is restrained, it must be by some
compensatory contrivance, totally independent of the unity of
the executive, and indicating perhaps that there is a faulty,
rather than a wise constitution of that department. I speak
now of the unity of the executive as understood by De Lalme,
whose reasoning is founded upon the notion of a hereditary
monarch, although his views are conceived with a design of
laying the foundation of a general principle. So difficult is it
for even the finest understanding to analyze its ideas, that the
argument is a defense of the unity of the executive, as the
only way of maintaining the hereditary principle, rather than
a defense of the first, for the sake of establishing a principle
of universal application.- The subordinate end is made to
take the place of the superior one; a very common error
when the mind has fastened upon one set of phenomena, and
is determined to deduce all the principles of a science from
them alone. It was after the usurpation of Octavius Caesar,
when the executive authority which was before divided came
to be centered in the hands of a single individual, that it was
found impossible to set bounds to it. The theory of nearly all
the European governments, so far as regards the constitution
of the executive, is the same now that it was centuries ago.
And yet history shows that it was absolutely impossible to
control it in England, in the times of the Stuarts, and in
France under the reign of the Bourbon princes, not to go




554             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
back to periods still more remote, when it swallowed up every
other authority.
What has occasioned the remarkable change which has
taken place in very modern times? Not the recognition and
establishment of the maxim of De Lalme, for that was the
corner-stone of government when all Europe was filled with
the most frightful tyranny. Causes of a very different character must have given rise to this revolution. It can only be
ascribed to the growth of a new power in the state, to wit, that
which is represented by the popular will. And that this new
power will acquire still more influence, and ultimately succeed
in modifying the whole constitution of the executive, is as certain as any event which is the subject of human speculation.
It was formerly sufficient to study the mere mechanism of
government in order to explain the phenomena of government,
but it is now necessary to look a great deal further, and to
take in the structure of society as a most important element
in the character and working of the political institutions.
All the tendencies of society at the present day, all the new
forces which are created within it, are unfavorable to the condensation of power in any department of the government. This
was not the case until very modern times. When De Lalme
wrote, the English house of commons was just beginning to
acquire a due weight in the constitution; the people were
making slow but steady advances in the acquisition of knowledge and property; public opinion, for the first time in the
history of society, showed signs of becoming a power of commanding influence in the state. All these agencies have
received a wonderful accession of strength during the last
seventy years, and begin to press with an enormous weight
upon the executive authority. In other words, the power out
of the government more nearly balances the power within, and
produces the two opposite effects of confining and yet giving
stability to the regal authority. This is evidently attributable
to the altered structure of society, and not to the unity of the
executive.
There is this difference between a monarchy and a republic:
that in the former, the government is more simple as a whole,
and yet very complicated in its parts; while in the latter, it
is exceedingly complicated as a whole, and yet very simple in




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               555
the construction of its parts. In a republic, power is not condensed in any single institution as in a monarchy. It is divided
among a great number of offices. When, for example, the chief
magistrate is elected, his term of office short, his powers greatly
abridged, the executive department will not be so complex and
artificial a contrivance as it is in a hereditary government. It
may even be a matter of very little importance whether it is
composed of one or more members. Its original structure, in
other and more important respects, is such as necessarily to
confine it within its appropriate sphere. And the same power
which confines it also protects it.
In modeling the executive department in a republic, a double
plan is pursued. Certain attributes which were before regarded as inseparable from it, are extinguished; the hereditary
principle, the right to create peers, the absolute veto, the authority to dissolve the legislative body, are all annihilated;
they are deposited no where. The residue of the power is
then divided between the officer who still maintains the title
of executive, and other departments, or offices, some portion
being extinguished as to him, but yet remaining in other parts
of society.
But two plans may be pursued in distributing power. A
certain amount of power may be conferred upon two or more
individuals to be jointly exercised by them, or the power itself
may be divided, that is, lodged in different institutions, and
not merely distributed among several persons, all holding the
same office. Examples of the first were common in the ancient
commonwealths. The executive authority was confided to two
or more; but all composed one body. The French directory,
and afterward the consulship, when composed of three members, and the governor and council in some of the American
states, are instances of the same arrangement. The executive
power is exercised by a plural body. The German, Swiss and
American confederacies, are examples of the second plan. The
executive authority is not divided among a number of persons
all composing one body, or one department, but is distributed
among a great number of institutions. In the German and
Swiss confederacies this power, so far as regards one class of
objects, the exterior relations of the members of the confederacy, is deposited with the general diet, which in both is a




556             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK. IV.
numerous body; and as regards the local interests of each of
the members, it is sometimes confined to a plural, and sometimes to a single executive. In the American government,
the same power is apportioned between the president and the
thirty states. For it is plain, that if the United States were a
hereditary and consolidated monarchy, the entire authority
which is possessed by the state executives would be wielded
by a single individual. This might also be the case, if it were
one aggregate community, and yet a republic. But it would
fall very far short of the true notion of a republic, which absolutely requires not only that the public authority should be
divided among several persons, but that it should be distributed among a number of sections or local departments. And
although we may view the American confederacy as composed
of several distinct governments, rather than as parts of one
system of government, yet it is neither necessary nor advantageous to do so; not necessary, because the same or a similar
scheme must have been adopted, if the country had not been
accidentally divided into distinct colonial provinces: and not
advantageous, because a scheme analogous to the present is
indispensable to the maintenance of free institutions. By
taking the view I have just adverted to, the mind fastens
upon a circumstance entirely accidental, and loses sight of the
principal point to be gained in constructing a democratic republic, whether it be composed of one homogenous people, or
of several distinct peoples: and that is, to subdivide the executive authority, to make such a disposition of it that it shall no
longer be the inalienable attribute of one man, and thus to
falsify the maxim of De Lalme.
Or in order to make the train of reasoning still clearer. We
must not suppose that the principal design, in founding the
American government, was to preserve the identity of the
states, and to make a merit of necessity by assigning to them
very extensive powers. The prime object was to establish a
government thoroughly republican; and there was no way of
effecting this, but by abridging the immense power which
would otherwise have been exercised by the political departments: and no way of accomplishing this but by dividing
power, not only among several persons, but among several
bodies. The government may have been a confederacy of




CHAP. II.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               557
monarchies, as in the German league, or a confederacy of
aristocracies. The principal design, then, would have been to
unite the whole for the sake of defense, to consult the exterior
rather than the interior interests of the parts. But the American system went a great way beyond this; and it became necessary to retain the state governments, in order to subtract
power from the central government, and to render the creation
of a republic even possible. And although the American government is generally viewed as a system in which the federal
authority superintends the external and the states the internal
interests; yet the true view is to consider it as a whole, in
which the principal design was to consult and secure the interior prosperity and welfare of all the parts; and the division
into local jurisdictions was an accessory, indispensable to carrying out this design.
Where the whole executive authority of the commonwealth
is distributed among several distinct departments, or jurisdictions, three plans may be adopted. The whole, or the greater
part of the administrative officers appertaining to each of those
jurisdictions, may derive their appointment from one person,
who will thus be constituted the chief magistrate in regard to
one class of interests; or the power of nomination only may
be conferred upon him, subject to the approval or rejection of
one or both chambers of the legislative body: or their appointment may flow from an entirely distinct source; in which case
they will all, from the highest to the lowest, be independent of
each other, as well as of the head of the state. The first, is the
plan of monarchical government, whether absolute or limited.
The second is the theory of the federal; and the third is that
of the state governments of America. On either of these three
plans, however, it is evident that the maxim, that the executive should be one, loses great part of its force. Thus, if the
German confederation were presided over, as formerly, by the
emperor, all federal appointments might flow from him, while
all the administrative officers in each of the states would hold
under some magistrate, or council, which was established in
each; none of these magistrates, or councils, having any dependence upon the chief of the confederacy. The confederate
form of government is then a device for breaking up the power
of the different departments. It is not a mere arrangement of




558             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
convenience. Convenience, or even necessity, may have determined it in the first instance; but the result is, that a much
greater amount of liberty is introduced into the state. The
character, and not merely the form of government, is altered.
But the state governments of the United States afford the
most remarkable example of an entire departure from the
maxim, that the executive should be one. In most of them,
the governor has no participation whatever in the appointment
of the other executive, or administrative officers. There is in
truth no way of constructing free government, without doing
violence to that maxim. Executive power, as it is understood
by all writers on government, implies the appointment of the
whole host of administrative officers by a chief magistrate.
This is an authority too large, too vague, and too dangerous,
to be confided to any one individual. We are compelled to
divide and to subdivide the power, in order to uphold another
principle of still greater value and importance, the responsibility of the public agents to the people. The European governments proceed upon the plan of conferring enormous power
upon a single executive; and then the difficult problem is presented, how shall this unnatural authority be controlled? The
American governments get rid of the difficulty, by getting rid
of the problem. The executive power is distributed between
the president and the thirty state governors: or it is in part
devolved either upon the people themselves, or upon agents
appointed by them. And this arrangement, while it causes
all public business to be conducted with a greater degree of
exactness and regularity, imposes numerous and powerful
checks upon the exercise of the power. The plan which is
the most natural, the one which falls in best with the convenience of society, will be sure to be the best constructed.
The effect may be to spoil the beauty of a favorite theory, and
to render what was once a cardinal principle of government, a
mere formal arrangement, or a matter of detail. But it will
not be the less valuable on that account.
In the federal government of America, it is only a small
proportion of the public officers who are elected by the people.
Not to mention officers in the army and navy, as well as foreign ambassadors, officers of the customs, heads of departments, the judges, the attorney general, and district attorneys,




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                559
together with the marshals, are all appointed by the president
and senate. The postmasters of higher grade are appointed
in the same way; those of an inferior grade are appointed by
the postmaster general. The president and members of the
house of representatives only, are elected by the people, and
the senate by the state legislatures. In a democratic republic,
this at first appears to be a novel arrangement. But the confederate form of government naturally, if not necessarily, leads
to a system of centralization within itself.  And hence the
importance of local jurisdictions becomes more manifest, in
order to prevent the whole authority of the state from being
swallowed up by a single government. To centralize the powers of the federal government seems to be the only way of
preventing the two jurisdictions, the national and the domestic
from being confounded and ultimately running into each other.
The same reason does not exist in a consolidated government,
for there all the public officers may be elected by the people.
But what more particularly deserves attention in the structure
of the American federal government, is, that those officers
whose administration is central, the president and members of
the legislative body, are chosen in local districts; while those
whose administration is local, are appointed by a central authority. It is not so in the state governments, where nearly
all the administrative officers are elected by the people. For
there is no danger, in the domestic governments, that any
rivalship will grow up between their public officers and the
state authority.
Thus the federal government still clings to the system of
patronage, while almost all the state governments have, since
1789, gradually introduced the elective principle, in the appointment of civil functionaries. The consequence is that the relative position of the two governments toward each other is
different, and the balance between the two materially altered.
Federal politics now create the only existing parties of moment, and these parties not only rule in the national councils,
but control the local parties within the states. And the only
question is whether, by controlling their local politics, they
will finally succeed in controlling their local interests also.
There can be no objection to the natural influence of general
politics within the states, for that contributes to fasten more




560             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BooI. IV.
closely the bond which connects the national with the local
interests; but when to this natural influence is added the artificial strength derived from the patronage of the federal government, a doubt is suggested whether the state jurisdictions
will retain the independent position which was originally assigned to them. It is this patronage which creates the system
of centralization in the federal government, and which not
only raises up two great parties, but subordinate to them, the
local parties in the states.
In a democratic republic, then, there are two apparently
opposite tendencies: the one to a distribution, the other to a
centralization, of power. As soon as the elective principle is
extensively introduced, it leads directly to the creation of
local jurisdictions, as the only way of connecting firmly the
constituent with the representative. The advantages which
they procure are not thoroughly realized, until the population
comprised within them have become habituated to the management of their own affairs. The experience then acquired inculcates all the skill and ability which are requisite. But as
there will be a residuum of power left after the institution of
these local authorities, to wit, that which represents the state
as a collective whole, the notion of a central government forces
itself upon the minds of the most democratic people. And the
question then is, how to avail ourselves of the great benefit of
such a government, without introducing a systern of centralization also.
When the constitution of the United States was established,
the state governments were all differently modeled from what
they are now. The administrative officers in each were by no
means so generally elected by the people as they are now.
The constitution of New York, at that day, vested the power
of appointment in a council; that of Pennsylvania conferred
it absolutely upon the governor, whose authority in that respect
closely resembled that of the British monarch. And the other
state governments tended more or less to the same system.
Important changes have been made since that period in many
of these states, while in the new states which have since risen
up, the elective principle greatly predominates.  Thus, at the
time the federal constitution was established, state patronage
contributed to balance the patronage of the national govern



CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               561
ment, that is, created state parties on a large scale, and armed
them with great influence. Those parties then absorbed a corresponding share of public feeling, and served to break the
impetuosity of the national parties. Perhaps if the system
since introduced, had existed in 1789. it may, so far as regards
some of the public officers, have been copied after in framing
the federal constitution.
The executive power is commonly defined to be the authority
to carry the laws into execution. But the constitution of nearly
all the European governments shows the widest possible departure from this idea. The institution is made to correspond
to the name, not the name to the institution. The power of
declaring war, and of making treaties, which are devolved
upon the prince, without the participation of any other department, signify a great deal more than the right to execute the
laws. They amount to the declaration of a new law for the
community, and appertain more properly to the legislative department. The creation of an order of nobility, or the adding
to their number, has no shadow of connection with executive
power. It is not merely the creation of a new and a fundamental law, but it influences the making of all laws which
shall be subsequently passed. How these attributes, together
with the vast patronage which the appointing power implies,
came to be associated with the notion of executive power, may
be gathered from the observations made in the commencemen
of this chapter. In a society which has not attained a high
civilization, men are governed more through their imagination
than their reason. That mysterious principle of our nature
which, in some respects, is even stronger in the common race
of mankind than it is among the educated, and which makes
them figure to themselves a higher standard of excellence than
can be found in real life, affords the explanation of this phenomenon. It is for this reason that legal power exists in the
greatest vigor in the most imperfect form of society-in Russia,
Turkey, and Persia, than in Great Britain, France and Belgium. When the masses are very ignorant, and a prey to all
sorts of superstition, they are the most disposed to take refuge,
from a sense of their own degradation, in the creation of an
ideal phantom of sovereignty, which commands their obedience because it enchains their admiration. The throne, with
36




562              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
its immense and imposing prerogatives, gives to this brilliant
image a visible form and existence. It seems to the imaginations of the people, that the further the source of all political
power was removed from themselves, the nearer was its approach to the supreme fountain of law and justice. And an
institution which has once fairly acquired this preternatural
authority, is in a condition to retain it, long after society is
prepared for a thorough and permanent change. The executive power will still comprehend a great number of attributes
which do not properly belong to it.
Even where the chief magistrate is deprived of the war and
treaty-making powers, and the right to create one chamber of
the legislative body, the interpretation put upon the executive
power, that it is the authority to carry the laws into execution, must be received with very great caution. It will have
some semblance of truth, if we intend to describe the power
as it exists in some particular countries, instead of defining
it as it belongs to a regular and well constituted government.
Nor will it ever be rigorously true, except in theory, for in
practice the execution of the laws is reposed in a great multitude of officers, scattered over a wide extent of country,
whose official transactions cannot be understood, much less
superintended, by a single individual. The advance toward a
state of general, and not merely of high civilization, the increase of the business transactions of society, necessarily sets
bounds to the executive authority. The public interests become so diversified and complicated, as to require the labori
ous attention of many thousand officers where a handful was
before sufficient. This produces two effects of great importance. It first separates the administrative officers from the
chief magistrate; he continues to appoint them, and yet the
duties performed by them are removed from his inspection
It then disconnects entirely their offices from his, and alters
the theory as well as the practice of the government. It is
needless to add, that this last change is never brought about
except in a democratic republic. As the chief magistrate can
neither execute the laws in person, nor see that they are executed by such a multitude of agents, the idea is sooner or
later suggested, that the great majority of the administrative
officers have in reality no connection with him. He is conse



CHAP. III. ]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               563
quently deprived of the power of appointment, and the theory
of the government is then made to correspond exactly with its
practice. But this is the result of time, and is only brought
about by great reflection, and by a minute as well as extensive
experience of public affairs.
I observe, in the new constitution of New York, an arrangement which is not to be found in any other state constitution.
The administrative department is separated from the executive proper, and is classed under two distinct heads: "administrative" and "local officers." An arrangement of the parts
of a constitution may sometimes be a matter of detail; but in
this instance it is the result of a strict logical analysis, and
indicates that the true notion of executive power has been
seized and thoroughly appreciated. The effect is to disconnect, more clearly than has ever been done before, the administrative officers from the chief magistrate; in other words, to
produce a division of the executive power.
In some of the state constitutions, under the head of executive power, the language is, the " chief" executive power shall
be vested in a governor. This is the case in the constitution
of Mississippi, where all the other executive officers are, as in
New York, made to derive their appointment directly from the
people. The election of the principal of those officers, however, is prescribed in the article which defines the executive
power. In New York, the word "chief " is omitted; but the
distribution of power, which would seem to render the employment of it very natural, is actually made; and so the use
or rejection of the word is even less than a matter of detail.
In some of the state constitutions, the appointment of some
of the administrative officers is ranged under the head of executive power, while others are placed apart and under no distinct head whatever. This is the case in the constitution of
Ohio. The office of secretary of state is created by the article
which defines the/ executive power; while those of treasurer
and auditor, are placed under no distinct head. On the other
hand, in the constitution of Kentucky, the offices of secretary
of state, of attorney general, district attorneys, and sheriffs,
are ranged under the head of executive power; while the state
treasurer and printer, are to be found in the article which confers judicial power. The two last officers, being elected by the




564             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK IV,
legislature, would more naturally have been.placed under the
legislative department. This very confusion, however, which
is to be found in many of the other state constitutions, is an
unequivocal proof of an entire change in the structure of government in America.  The convention of New York have
adapted the arrangement and phraseology of the constitution
to this change: and by so doing, have communicated to a very
important principle of government a degree of clearness which
it did not before.possess.
At one time, the chief magistrate was regarded as very much
the state itself. But when he came to bo divested of prerogatives which have no shadow of connection with the executive
power, he ceased to be viewed in that light. A great change
took place in the ideas of men of all classes. The responsibility of the administrative officers, which was before referred
to him as their chief, is now referred to the people. The term
"subordinate," when applied to these officers, is then used to
denote the relation which they hold to the community, not to
indicate their dependence upon him. In other words, responsibility to the people is substituted in the place of accountability to one individual.
And yet the reasons for divesting the chief magistrate of
the power of appointment, are not so strong in a republic as
in a monarchy. Where he holds by a self-existing title, there
would seem to be a greater necessity for rendering the appointment of the other executive officers independent of his control than where he is elected by the people, and his responsibility to them is immediate. But a dependence of the public
officers upon the community, however consistent with the interests of society, would be totally incompatible with the
genius of monarchy. It would cease to be monarchy from
the moment the change was effected, and the prince himself
would fall into a dependence upon the new appointing power,
whether that was composed of agents of the people, or of the
people themselves. The federal and a few of the state governments have endeavored to reconcile the two plans by pursuing a third, which combines some of the features of both.
The power of appointment is wrested from the chief magistrate, but he retains the power of nomination. This is sometimes viewed in the light of an absolute power of appoint



CHAP. III. ]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               565
ment. And this is correct so far as regards the political party
from which the nominee is selected, but no further. The control which the body to whom the nomination is made possess
over the appointment, may not always be discerned; because
in the great majority of cases it acts as a preventive check,
deterring the officer from the nomination of persons whom he
would otherwise select.  But there are many instances ill
which its direct operation has been distinctly shown. Presidents have sometimes so conducted on these occasions, as to
pursuade the impartial among their own party that they did
not so much " believe in the rule of the majority, as in the
rule of him who had obtained the majority;" and the senate
have been compelled to perform the austere but patriotic duty
of rejecting persons who were eminently unfit for the station
which they were named to fill.
There are many defects in this system, however, notwithstanding the control of the senate. The person nominated
may, in common acceptation, be both capable and honest, so
that he could not be rejected with any show of reason. And
yet his dependence upon the president for renomination, or for
a continuance in office for a single week, will be very apt to
impel him to a course of conduct which will be completely
subservient to the personal ambition of that officer. He may,
perhaps it is not too strong to say, that he will, inevitably
be nominated with a view to that result. This greatly mars
the plan upon which the executive authority is constituted,
which proceeds upon the idea that the president is himself
elected, he may be as much confided in, in making nominations, as in the performance of any other duty. The design in
both instances is that he should act as the representative of
the people. But there is this difference between the two cases,
that in the one the president simply influences the opinions of
men, in the other he acts directly upon their will and determines their actions. The effect is in some degree to counterbalance his responsibility to the people. For if he can place
in lucrative situations a multitude of persons who are bound
to him by the powerful motives of interest, he is possessed of
an authority entirely foreign to any which the elective principle contemplates. He is provided with an instrument of no
mean force in promoting his re-election. The original design




566              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
of the government so far fails, because one great defect of the
monarchical regime is attached to it. The prince holds his station independently of the will of the people, and the president is
armed with a power which may insure his re-election in spite
of well founded objections to his administration. Thus the
principle of representation is made to defeat itself. The political institutions are themselves converted into instruments
for corrupting both public officers and people.
There are but two plans by which this defect can be cured.
The one is, to cause all or the greater part of the administrative officers of the federal government to be elected by the
people in the districts where their offices are located, precisely
as in the state governments; the other is, to declare the president ineligible a second time. The first plan would carry the
division of the executive further than it is now; the second,
would render the president comparatively powerless in the dispensation of the patronage which is attributed to him.
It may be supposed that if the first plan were pursued, the
effect would be to confound the authority of the two governments, to obliterate the boundary which now separates them;
and to make the citizen forget that he was as much bound in
allegiance to the national as to the state government. It is
true that the president is himself elected by the people of the
states, and not by the people of the United States; and so
are members of the senate and house of representatives. And
these elections not only take place in each state separately;
but in the third instance they are conducted in local districts,
and on the same plan that members of the state legislatures
are chosen. The election of president has also been sometimes held in electoral districts. It is at any rate always conducted in minute subdivisions, smaller even than those of
counties. But the chief magistrate of the union is stationed
at the seat of government, where all his duties are centered.
It is there only that we are familiar with him as one exercising political authority. Congress holds its sittings at the
same place. It is to this spot that all its proceedings are
referable. This contributes to keep these parts of the machinery of the national government in activity before the public eye, and to draw a broad line of discrimination between it
and the state institutions. But if the whole corps of admin



CHAP. III.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              567
istrative officers were chosen in the same way, it might be to
be feared that they would lose their separate identity, since
their functions are necessarily performed in local districts
within the states, and not at some central point. It may be
apprehended, if this scheme were adopted, that the centripetal
force of the federal government would be much weakened;
that the love of union and the spirit of patriotism which takes
in the whole country, would be extinguished. The power of
nomination may originally have been conferred upon the president, because it was supposed to be an attribute of the executive authority. That may not be its true character, and yet it
may fulfill another purpose of still higher importance.
The power which the imagination exercises upon the opinions of men, is a thing not to be absolutely neglected; at any
rate when it comes in aid of any of the legitimate objects of
government. But it has never been found that the minute
division of the state authority, the creation of county, township, and city jurisdictions, relaxes the bond which holds together the parts, and connects them with one presiding authority-that of the state.  On the contrary, the bond is
made firmer and stronger. The complete centralization of the
appointing power does indeed affect the imaginations of men
sensibly, because it sets in motion a power which is beyond
themselves; but the communication of the same power to the
people gives it a more palpable connection with their interests,
and in the end produces a more durable, if not a more vivid
impression upon them. Instead of referring the authority of
the state to one individual, it is made to represent the joint
power of the whole society; a thing equally mysterious and
invisible in its operation, and yet constraining the actions of
men with a force almost irresistible. The delinquent in America, whether his crime be of a political or a private character,
as soon as the officer pronounces the words, " I arrest you by
the authority of the state," delivers himself up. He quails
before an authority which means so much, and which only
speaks through an humble individual whom he has himself
been instrumental in electing. More is gained than can ever
be lost by founding government plainly and directly upon the
interests of the people. The practical working of the system
will gradually inculcate the requisite skill and experience; and




568              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
while the influence of the imagination will still count as something, powerful motives will be added to render the people
prudent and circumspect in the selection of the public officers.
I should not err if I were to say that it is to the over exercise
of the imagination, that the greatest defects are to be traced,
even in a country of free institutions. Like the children of the
rich, who believe that they will be abundantly taken care of
by others, the people, when the management of their interests
is placed far from them, are disposed to concede everything to
the showy authority which presides over public affairs. But
when they are cast upon their own resources, and are compelled to grapple with business as a matter of serious concern,
they are taught to be more cautious and wise in every step
which they take. In America, the population increases so
rapidly, generation crowds upon generation so fast, that society may be said to be still in a state of fermentation. It is
(contrary to the opinions of European writers) when the population becomes dense, and society is thickly planted with the
sentiments of public liberty, when long and inveterate habit
has rendered republican rule both firm and durable, that a
due estimate will be placed upon the political institutions.
We have no reason to believe that public officers in Great
Britain are selected with more judgment than in the American
states. To take one example-that of justices of the peace,
who are so numerous that the aggregate amount of business
transacted by them is of immense consequence to the community. These magistrates do not exercise in the first country
the very important civil jurisdiction which they do in the last.
But they possess some other powers of considerable magnitude, and their criminal jurisdiction wholly exceeds anything
which is known in the United States. For they can sentence
to almost unlimited imprisonment, and even to transportation
for seven and fourteen years. In England they are appointed
by the lords lieutenant of counties, a class of officers who are
totally irresponsible. In the United States they are almost
universally elected by the people of each county or township.
These officers perform their homely but useful duties very
much to the satisfaction of the public, although their jurisdiction in some of the states extends to one hundred dollars, and
a very great amount of money consequently passes through




CHAP. III.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                569
their hands. But in the British kingdom, the malpractices of
these magistrates, of one kind or another, have been so flagrant and notorious as to engage the attention of the leading
men in parliament. Lord Brougham, when in the house of
commons, dilated upon them with much severity, although
there was every disposition on his part to soften the censure
which they deserved.
I am aware, that although the president's patronage exercises a disturbing influence upon the domestic politics of the
states, this is in some degree counteracted by another effect.
By strengthening and consolidating two great national parties, the sectional jealousies, the narrow and contracted views
which, mere state politics would create, if not swallowed up,
are at any rate mitigated and kept more out of view. The domestic jurisdictions are prevented from tearing each other to
pieces, by placing them on an arena where one common sympathy, one mutual interest, may animate equally the citizen of
Georgia, and the citizen of Ohio.  These are effects of no
light moment, and if they can ~be brought about in no other
way, than by clothing the president with the vast patronage
he now enjoys, it cannot be doubted that the evils incident to
the system are amply compensated. But national parties must
exist, and will ever have a commanding influence, since the
questions with which they deal are so weighty, and of such
general interest to the whole country.
I am persuaded that a genuine devotion to the national interests and a generous patriotism would not be lost to the
community, even if a considerable portion of the administrative officers of the federal government were elected in the
states. The two governments would be more identified in interest than before, and the execution of the laws by a federal
officer, would be accompanied with the same authority which
attends the execution of state laws. It is the operation of
the laws upon individuals, which gives efficacy to the system
of confederate government. The laws of the United States
are in truth laws of the states, and admitting that there is
never unanimity in their enactment, there is as seldom unanimity in the passage of state laws. And yet, there is rarely
any resistance to the execution of a state law in those counties whose representatives have voted against it. The state is




570             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
an aggregate of counties, as the nation is an aggregate of
states. And although in the first, the parts are carved out of
the whole, while in the last, the whole is formed out of the
parts; yet the whole cling as tenaciously to the local divisions
of counties and townships, as they do to the larger division
into states. Hardly any of them would submit to the unbroken central authority of the state, more than it would to the
authority of a consolidated national government. The existence of those minor jurisdictions accordingly is coeval with
the foundation of the state governments. Logically, if not
chronologically, it would be correct to consider the states as
originally issuing from the settlement in townships and counties, rather than the reverse. This is so true, that if the
states in which they have subsisted from time immemorial
were to undertake to abolish them, public opinion would be
as much shocked as if the national government were to invade
the undoubted rights of the states. Those lesser jurisdictions
then contribute to bind together the parts of which the states
are composed. And the existence of the larger jurisdictions
of the states, so far from weakening the authority of the central government adds strength to it, on the same principle
that the division of the judicial power between the judge and
the jury, increases the effective authority of the former. The
judge is relieved from the performance of duties which, although the least difficult in themselves, are the most apt to
engender heart-burnings in society. And the federal government is in like manner relieved from responsibility in so many
matters which engage the attention and feelings of the people, that its authority has more freshness; and where it does
act, it has the advantage of greater vigor and alacrity. I am
not disposed therefore to think that the election of one class
at least of the administrative officers of the federal govornment would subtract in any degree from its legitimate authority.
Cases may arise where there will be a collision between the
authority of the state and federal governments. And to
guard against the consequences flowing from this, there is
one class of officers whose appointment might well remain
as it is. The attorney general, district attorneys, and marshals, as well as the judges of the federal courts, might con



CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 571
tinue to hold under the president and senate. The share
of patronage thus devolved upon the chief magistrate would
not be great, and would do no harm even if it were unattended with one particular advantage. Perhaps it is not certain
that the laws would not be as faithfully and energetically
executed, if the district attorneys and marshals were elected
by the states. Instances have already occurred, where these
officers have resigned, in consequence of some temporary
obstruction to the discharge of their duties, and their unwillingness to make efforts to surmount the difficulty. For the
officer is nothing unless he can clothe himself with the armor
of public opinion. The instances of resistance to the execution of state laws, have certainly been more numerous than of
resistance to the laws of the union. The executive officers of
the former, as well as of the last, have notwithstanding invariably triumphed. But if there is any uncertainty whatever,
that is a sufficient reason for retaining the appointment of
those officers as it is now. An experiment with a more numerous class of public agents, will shed great light upon the
practicability of extending it still further.
Postmasters are the most numerous class of civil officers
appertaining to the federal authority. They outnumber all
others put together. Their duties are essentially of a local
character; that is, are confined to certain territorial divisions
within the states. I see no good reason, therefore, why, if a
convention were now called to frame a constitution of government, the appointment of these officers might not be devolved upon the people, precisely as is that of members of
the house of representatives. The scheme seems to run counter to our notions of theoretical propriety, but that is the
most which can be said of it. This notion of preserving a
certain symmetrical arrangement, no doubt had great influence with the conventions which first organized the state governments. The power of appointment seemed at that day
to be peculiarly an attribute of the executive; and almost
all the states conferred the right of nomination, at least, upon
the governor. A great change has been effected in almost
all the old states; and in the new, hardly any trace of the
system can be discerned. Yet the conduct of all public business is, to say the least, as orderly, upright, and intelligent,




572            NATURE AND TENDENCY              [ BOOI IV.
as it was under the old plan. There is no possible way of
making free institutions succeed, but by training the popular
mind to habits of self government; to make it feel and realize the consequences which ensue from any mistake in the
management of public business. And even if we should
admit that the frequent elections acted as a provocative to
party spirit, this would be no argument against them. No
great good ever was obtained, but by contending with great
difficulties.
Experience, however, seems to prove that popular elections
are highly favorable to public order. VWe may account for
this unexpected fact, in a variety of ways. First, public jealousy is very much softened, when place and emolument are
not confined to a close body, but are laid open in reality,
and not merely in name, to free competition. Second, there
is a principle of human nature almost universal in its operation, that once the desires of the mind are fairly gratified,
they lose their attraction and have no longer the same power
to stir the passions. Third, the more equal distribution of
power which popular elections necessarily introduce, gives
rise to a more equal distribution of benefits, also. Men are
no longer favored by classes or sections, for all classes and
sections participate in the management of public business.
Fourth, the popular mind becomes infinitely better educated,
than under the old system. I am aware of the silly affectation of perpetually underrating the present, in comparison
with the past, no matter at what period of time the present
may be placed. But I believe I have not been an inattentive
observer of the progress of society; at least I have endeavored to make it a chief object of my thoughts; and I think I
can discern very visible marks of improvement, both moral
and intellectual, in every part of America. The two countries which in very recent times have been most convulsed by
party spirit, and which have been a prey to all sorts of crime
and immorality, are Spain and Portugal. An election, which
in America makes very little noise beyond the district or county, and which as soon as it is over leaves everything behind
tranquil, renders those countries scenes of perpetual strife
and disorder.
ID the event of a constitutional amendment which would




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               573
refer the election of postmasters to local districts, there are
several important checks upon their conduct which would
be retained by the federal government. First, they would
be commissioned by the president of the United States, on
the same principle that state officers, who are chosen in territorial divisions of the states, are commissioned by the governors. Second, they would be governed by the federal laws,
which would not only mark out the election districts, but
which would prescribe all the duties to be performed. Third,
they would be amenable to the federal courts. And fourth,
their transactions would all be referable to the seat of government: so that in the event of any charge against them,
they might be suspended by the president. A president would
be apt to be very cautious in the exercise of this power of
even temporary displacement, where the public officer did
not hold directly under him. The present system holds out
temptations which very few public magistrates can withstand.
It invites the president to treat all the administrative officers
like the men upon the chess board, and to use them for no
other purpose but to play the old-fashioned game of politics.
The plan proposed would contain abundant checks upon the
conduct of those officers, while it would create a powerful
and most salutary restraint upon the actions of the president.
I believe there are few presidents who would not greatly
prefer to be relieved from the annoyance and heart burnings
which these appointments create. As long as the authority
exists, no one holding the station feels at liberty to turn away
from the arbitrary exercise of it. The party, if not the public generally, expect that changes for political ends will be
made. The constitution and laws have thrown out a challenge to that effect, which the chief magistrate dare not decline; although he would cheerfully part with the prerogative, in order to be delivered from the eternal clamor and
the despotic dominion of cliques.  At present he makes
changes just as caprice dictates; but he is first rendered a
capricious being, by having so unnatural an authority cast
upon him.
There is a difficulty with regard to the removal of public
officers which has pressed upon the minds of thinking men.




574             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
If an officer is elected by the people, and is guilty of gross
misconduct, while at the same time the period for another
election does not come around until a year or two afterward,
in what way shall we deal with him? One way of curing
the difficulty is, to make him give security for his good conduct. But this may not always be sufficient: he may commit
more mischief than can be compensated by any bond which
can be taken. The Italian republics of the middle ages endeavored to get rid of the difficulty, by electing their officers
for exceedingly short terms; sometimes for six months, and
sometimes for only one. It was believed at that day, that
there was no possible way for reconciling the two principles
of responsibility and election, but by rendering the duration
of the office so limited that the officer would hardly have
-time to commit any flagrant delinquency. They required no
bond; and they not only never removed before the expiration
of the term, but it was held to be a fundamental principle,
that there could be no trial for misconduct until that term
had elapsed. These difficulties are all easily avoided in the
state governments of America. They are met in a very plain
and effectual manner. In Ohio, county treasurers are removable by the county commissioners, without waiting for the
tedious process of a trial and conviction. So also the governor of the state, upon being impeached, ceases for the time
being to be governor; and in the meantime, the president of
the senate supplies his place. In New York, the treasurer of
the state, and other administrative officers, may be suspended
by the governor, whenever there has been a violation of duty.
These provisions, which seem never to have suggested themselves to the Italian politicians, are perfectly familiar to the
Americans. The officer has been elected by the people. No
magistrate, therefore, should have power to deprive him of his
office. But there is every propriety in suspending him for
the time being. If he is ultimately removed, it is only upon
conviction by a tribunal of the people.
In the great majority of instances, the bond taken from the
federal officers would be sufficient to insure the faithful performance of their duties, as is the case with the state officers. The same system throughout, which has been adopted
in the state governments, might, with equal advantage, be




CHAP. III.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                575
introduced into the federal government. It would act as a
check upon both the president and the administrative officers;
while we should also get rid of the corrupting influence of executive patronage.
I plac6 reliance upon the plan of distributing the power of
appointment among the people, not merely because it best
agrees with the genius of free institutions, but because I do
not believe that the ineligibility of the president a second
time will meet the mischiefs which it is so desirable to remedy.
Where the desire of re-election cannot be gratified, a new
passion will take its place. The chief magistrate will become
deeply interested in the choice of his successor. The ambition of living even after we are dead, is one of the most powerful springs of human conduct, and unfolds itself in every
variety of form in our progress through life. Before feudal
institutions had firmly planted the hereditary principle in
government, kings were as ambitious of being instrumental
in the choice of their successors, as if it were a matter of personal interest to themselves. The Roman emperors, even
when there was no question of kindred in the case, were as
desirous of this reputation as they were of extending the
limits of the empire. The American president will always be
surrounded by powerful and aspiring men, who will seek to
ingratiate themselves in his favor, and to some of whom he
may be under inestimable obligations in prosecuting his plan
of administration. He will strive to live in the person of his
successor.
There is another consideration of great importance. As
free institutions delight to lift up the man of the humblest pretensions to the most exalted station, they also teach the man
who has attained the highest honors, that he does not tarnish
the luster of his reputation by afterward accepting an inferior
station. In two instances have ex-presidents consented to fill
offices of inferior grade.  It is the man who ennobles the
office, and never the reverse. The precedent has only to be
set when it will be generally followed; especially where the
retiring president is in the vigor of life and in the full possession of his faculties. The experience of one who has seen so
much of public life in all its allurements and anxieties, may
be full of instruction to those who are just entering on the




576             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
stage of public life. This presents a powerful motive of interest, as well as of ambition, to engage the president in the
choice of his successor. He may be the future ambassador of
the nation, or he may aspire to any other office to which his
extensive fame and abilities recommend him. He may have
retired from the presidency, very creditably to himself, a poor
man. Instead of a pension, which free governments never
bestow, he will be ambitious of earning a reward, by being in
some way useful to his country. But it will be impossible for
him to lose sight of the influence which party connection will
have in promoting his desires.
A political arrangement which is destined to further one
chief end, generally succeeds in answering some other slbordinate ones. The complete centralization of the poxwer of appointment gives unbounded sway to the government of the
majority. But if this power is distributed among the districts
where the officers are located, the extreme rigor of the rule
that the majority is entitled to govern, is very much mitigated, without substantially impairing its force. The various
administrative officers, also, will be chosen by those who have
the best opportunity of judging of their capability. For, as I
have before remarked, free institutions, if they do not find
men absolutely fit for self-government, are somehow or other
wonderfully adapted to make them so.
Doubts however, will still suggest themselves to even the
most intelligent minds. It will be inquired, how it is possible
to succeed in the government of a mighty population, if the
chief offices in the state are not surrounded by something of
the prestige of authority. If the hereditary principle is dispensed with, and the prerogatives of royal power are abolished,
what plan can be fallen upon to atone for this diminution of
the authority of government; unless it is by centering the
whole power of appointment in the chief magistrate. In
what way can we keep alive the notion of unity as an attribute
of the government: a notion which has hitherto been of so
much efficacy in the government of mankind. If we are bound
to take notice of the good qualities of human nature, it may be
said that we are equally bound to take notice of its bad qualities. And while all statesmen, from the earliest times, have
been convinced that the chief desideratum of government was




CHtAP. III.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               577
to place all sorts of checks upon popular feeling; shall the
American government part with the only one which is left,
and one which is merely indirect in its operation? Even if
these objections have not been sufficiently considered in different parts of this work, I feel so firmly persuaded that the
system of patronage cannot always maintain its ground, that
I would even make a merit of necessity, and forestall the
period when it will fall into disuse. There is a strong current
of public opinion running against it. And I have constantly
observed, that whenever there has been a very general and
decided tendency to any great movement in society, it has
been sure to be brought about; and what is of equal importance, it has been accompanied with safeguards and compensatory contrivances, which were entirely overlooked. There
may be particular or local tendencies to change, and these
never tell anything. But any event, the tendency to which is
of so general and marked a character as to stamp an impression upon the age or country, is sure to take place and to
succeed.
I observe that a very great change has taken place in the
mode of procuring appointments. Formerly, one or two individuals in a state arrogated the right to dictate to the president the nominations he should make. It was one way of
subserving their own private ends. Most generally it was
with a view to strengthen their political connections. But
sometimes the motives which governed them were purely
personal. I knew one instance where an individual of some
influence, procured the appointment of a near relation of his
enemy, in order to bind the former to his own interests and to
inflict a deadly blow upon the last. The appointment was absolutely unexceptionable; a better could not have been made.
But the example was of pernicious influence.
Within fifteen or twenty years, a very great change has
taken place in the management of this matter. A public
man, no matter what his influence may be, feels constrained
to defer considerably to the opinion of the people, among whom
the appointee is to reside, and to discharge his duties. liecommendations are drawn up, and even if the persons designated
are not altogether to his liking, he feels himself in duty bound
to second them. This change in the mode of operation of the
37




578             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
system is a sure indication that the system itself is on the eve
of being changed.
The system of patronage belongs properly to monarchical
government. It is not adapted to the genius of a republic.
Cecil was the first European minister who seems to have been
aware of its importance as an engine of government. He
announced it as a maxim in politics, that the nation must be
governed through, not by, the parliament. James I. was the
first king who acted upon this maxim, by seducing a parliamentary leader from the popular cause and making him prime
minister.
The rise of this system in monarchical government, is an infallible proof that a great change is taking place in the working' of the institutions. It denotes that the government is
passing, by insensible degrees, from absolute to limited monarchy. All absolute monarchs reign by dint of force or superstition. They may be obliged, as Mr. Hume remarks, to
"truck and huckster" to some particular men; but the great
bulk of the community are ruled by fear or superstition. If,
in a society thus organized, a train of causes can be set in
motion which will rouse the popular mind to activity, and
spread knowledge and industry throughout the land, a more
direct communication will be opened between the people and
the government. Public opinion will be something, as in after
times it will grow to be everything. The prince will be obliged
to throw away the coarse instruments of government which
he had before employed. As men can no longer be driven by
force, he will resort to the seductive influence of patronage.
And this is undoubtedly a great improvement upon the old
system, inasmuch as it supposes that men are endowed with
free agency, that they must be governed by some sort of persuasion addressed to their understandings, even though it
should be through their interests.
This mode of governing a community may be denominated
the transition state from absolute to limited monarchy. Its
continuance may be of indefinite duration, as it possesses a
faculty of self-preservation greatly beyond the old system. It
may last so long, but in a greatly mitigated form, as to render
it, also, the transition state from limited monarchy to free institutions. It may raise up so large a body of educated peo



CHAP. III.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               579
pie and independent thinkers, as to create an effectual counterpoise to the throne and aristocracy. The American government commenced where all other governments had left off;
and if here and there the federal government exhibits features
of a monarchical character, it must be attributed to the absence of all experience in modeling a republican government
upon so extensive a scale.
There is one circumstance, however, which has tended
greatly to diminish the mischiefs of patronage in the United
States. This is the immense disproportion between the number of offices and number of the electors. The influence which
the system of patronage exerts evidently depends upon the
number of persons who can be gained over, and this depends
upon the- number of active citizens; not meaning thereby the
number of adult males, but the number of those who are admitted to the enjoyment of political rights. We do not talk
of patronage as applied to the brute, unformed mass of a
Turkish or tussian population. They are easily governed
without the employment of this delicate but powerful instrument.  The king of France appoints to one hundred and
thirty-eight thousand offices, the aggregate salaries of which
amount to forty millions of dollars. The president of the
United States "nominates" to fifteen thousand, the salaries
of which amount to five millions of dollars. There is not
merely a great disparity between the number of lucrative
places to be disposed of in the two countries, but what is of
infinitely more importance, there is an immense disproportion
between the number of offices and the number of citizens who
can be influenced in this way. One hundred and thirty-eight
thousand public officers, with two hundred thousand electors
only, discloses a patronage literally gigantic, when it is contrasted with fifteen thousand officers, and three millions of
electors. The reform act of Great Britain, which has increased the number of electors from three hundred and forty
thousand to eight hundred and thirteen thousand, has in the
same proportion diminished the power of the British monarch,
The American president cannot nominate to office more than
one in every two hundred of the electors. The king of France
has the absolute disposal of so many places, that he can present nearly every elector in the kingdom with one. The effect




580             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BooKi IV.
of the one system is to train a vast corps of civil officers in
the service of the government; that of the other is, to create
an independent body, and one vastly more numerous, out of
the government. And this view alone is abundantly sufficient
to show how greatly mistaken they are, who have run a parallel between the European monarchs, and the chief magistrate
of America.
There is  circumstance of an entirely different character,
which does ncrease the power of the American president, and
one which is peculiar to representative government. The immense development of the democratic principle, a thing of
yesterday, without entering as a distinct element in the composition of the government, cripples incalculably in practice
the effective power of the French and English monarchs. The
structure of society and the political institutions are not in
complete harmony with each other. In the United States it is
the reverse, and the predominance of the popular power may
be said both to limit and to fortify the authority of the chief
magistrate.
For the true notion of political power does not consist in
contesting and running counter to the general interests; but
rather in founding itself upon the general will, and so placing
at the command of government a greater amount of both
physical and moral energy, than it would otherwise be able
to employ. But nothing contributes so much to give strength
and influence to a public officer, as the confidence and support
of a free people. It is more than equivalent to the obedience
of a great army. Free institutions do not detract from the
legitimate authority of any public magistrate; but they do
give a new direction to ambition, and insensibly habituate the
most aspiring genius, to fasten all hope of acquiring a brilliant
and lasting reputation upon the ability to advance the solid
prosperity of the state. And the untrammeled authority which
may be exercised to carry out so noble a design, is as truly
power as are the prerogatives of any potentate on earth. This
new direction of power, is one of the most marked characteristics of the age. Even the emperor Napoleon, who lived
amid elements little calculated to inspire such feelings, was
obliged to take refuge in one monument which he had constructed for the public welfare. "I shall go down to posterity,"




CHAP. III.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               581
he exclaimed, "'with the code of laws in my hand."  And
although this code was in no sense the work of his hands,
but was drawn from the profound writings of Pothier, and
other eminent jurists, yet circumstances enabled him to call it
into being; and one can easily pardon, nay, greatly admire,
the vanity which seeks in any degree to associate itself in part
with those who have been the real benefactors of mankind.
On a more recent occasion, an English king, William IV,
placed himself at the head of the party which contended for
parliamentary reform. Elizabeth countenanced the establishment of newspapers, but little thought that this was the first
step toward raising up a new power in the state. And a subsequent monarch ratified " the mutiny bill," without exactly
deciphering the consequences which would follow from it. But
William IV, well understood the import of the bill which introduced parliamentary reform, and manfully leaped to the
conclusion that although it circumscribed his authority, it
added wonderfully to his influence. The institutions of a
democratic republic help to render that the habitual temper of
public men which in other countries is only an occasional burst
of magnanimity..
I have noticed one change which very gradually takes place
in monarchical government: the substitution of patronage as
an instrument of power, in the place of superstition and fear.
There is another, equally remarkable, and one which is every
way calculated to arrest the attention of an inquisitive mind.
The regal and the executive authority which are originally
united in one person, in progress of time, come to be entirely
separated from each other. They may both continue ostensibly to be exercised by the head of the state; but in practice,
in the actual administration of public affairs, the tendency is
to disconnect them entirely. This is an event which contributes to break the force of the royal authority, and to nullify
the maxim, 1" the king can do no wrong," by introducing something like a regular responsibility into the management of the
public business. It hastens the passage from absolute to limnited or constitutional monarchy, and facilitates the ultimate
transition to free institutions.
Two causes may be assigned for this important change.
First, that diminution of the personal authority of the king,




582            NATURE AND TENDENCY             LBOOK IV.
which invariably takes place in a community which has attained a high civilization. So many, and such powerful interests
then spring up to obscure the luster of the throne, that the
officer ceases to exercise the magical influence which he formerly had upon the minds of men. In the meantime, the
power and importance of the other departments are as regularly advancing. They attract to themselves a large portion
of the influence and respect which were before exclusively
bestowed upon the monarch. The words of Louis XIV, " The
state, why I am the state myself," come to be regarded as an
empty ebullition of vanity rather than as a treasonable expression.
In the second place, the duties appertaining to the executive
become, as before observed, so intricate, and demand the exercise of so much ability, industry, and information, as to be
absolutely unmanageable by a single individual. A regular
board of executive officers then takes the place of those pompous and luxurious functionaries who were the mere servants
of the king. The members of this board will continue to be
nominated by him; but the business devolved upon themh will
be so complicated and difficult, as not even to be understood
by the prince. This will give to the board a distinct character
and importance, which, in process of time, will ripen into
something more than a nominal independence of him. The
importance of the principal is not always increased by the
ability of the agents he employs. It is often the reverse. The
relation which the executive officers ultimately bear to the
community is so much more extensive than to the king, that
they may even act as a counterpoise to his authority.
The seats which ministers have in the legislative body, contribute to consummate this great change in the constitution of
the regal power. The arrangement was originally intended to
give support to the throne. But in a highly civilized community, the legislature is sure to acquire the supremacy, and
turns all the instruments of the crown to its own advantage.
By placing the chief members of the ministerial board in the
popular branch of the legislature (as is most usually the case),
they are brought into immediate contact with the representatives of the people, are subjected to the direct control of public
opinion,, and are sure to be displaced, whenever the majority




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               583
is decidedly against them. Thus, by a slow, but irresistible
process, the executive is effectually separated from the royal
power.  The prince is a hereditary magistrate, the people
have no voice in his appointment; but to compensate for this
unnatural arrangement, he loses the executive functions. The
persons who exercise them  are virtually appointed by the
representatives of the people. It is not surprising that an
English premier should prefer a seat in the house of commons
to one in the lords; for as nothing can deliver ministers from
the omnipotent control which public opinion exerts, they are
certain by acting in conjunction with it, to add to the weight
of their authority.
By the act of settlement of twelve and thirteen of Willlam
1II, it was declared that no person holding an office or place
of trust should be eligible to parliament. This provision was
afterward altered, so as to exclude persons holding pensions,
and to vacate the seat of any member of the house of commons
upon his appointment to office. He was, however, immediately re-eligible. Instead of being incapacitated from holding
a seat, by a fixed constitutional provision, it was referred to
the people themselves to determine whether, under the circumstances, he should again be elected. This change has been
disapproved of by some eminent writers; but it is plain that
the ordinance, as it was originally penned, would have increased instead of diminished the power of the crown. The
admission of members of the executive to the hall of legislation, has a decidedly democratic tendency. It brings them
within speaking distance of the people, and when that is accomplished much of the mystery and state craft which would
otherwise surround public affairs, is dissipated. It has had
another very decided advantage. It has led to the practice of
appointing ministers from among distinguished commoners,
rather than from among the nobility. The king muakes a merit
of his dependent situation, by courting popular favor, and
relying upon it as his chief support.
The compelling ministers, then, to appear in presence of the
representatives of the people and to show their hands, is a
contrivance for breaking the power of the crown. By bringing the conduct and views of the king himself under the notice of a legislative assembly, it makes him indirectly a repre



584             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [Enoo IV.
sentative of the people.  If we could suppose the British
monarch to be brought upon the floor of the house of coinmons, the effect would be instantaneous in diminishing the
luster of the office. It would almost annihilate his personal
authority, and in no very long period he would become an
elective magistrate, like the president of the United States.
By placing members of the executive board there, his authority is to a certain extent preserved; but the executive and
regal power are completely separated. Instead of the king
governing the people through parliament as an instrument,
parliament and the people govern the king through the instrumentality of ministers.
Thus in proportion as government approaches to anything
like perfection, there is a constant tendency to a division of
the executive power. If there is no fundamental ordinance to
bring about this result, the vast expansion which the whole
framework of society acquires, the entire change which takes
place in the social and political organization, become a law to
the government; and even in a country where monarchical institutions have existed time out of mind, mold the authority
of the chief magistrate into a new form. The maxim that the
executive should be one, is true only in despotic government.
In the United States the executive officers are not eligible
to Congress, and the reason is apparent. There is no heredidary prince whose authority it is desirable to limit by breaking
it in pieces. The people choose the chief magistrate, he holds
his office for a short period, his salary is small, his powers
few, and his responsibility to the people is immediate. It is
unnecessary then to subject him, or the other members of the
executive board, to the same species of control as in the British government. For the authority which they exercise is circumscribed by other and more effectual means. In a hereditary monarchy we are obliged to cut in two the office of chief
magistrate, leaving the kingly authority to the monarch, and
erecting ministers into an executive board; and in order to
give them a substantive authority distinct from- his, they are
introduced upon the floor of the legislature. But there is no
necessity for the last in a republic. A much more exact distribution of the executive power than this implies is made by
the fundamental laws. If in the former government the per



CHAI. IO,]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 585
sonal influence of the king is diminished, this is the very object sought after by the institution. But in a republic, we do
not attempt to detract from the influence of the president,
since being permitted to deal with his office by fixed laws at
the first organization of government, there is no occasion for
any compensatory contrivances afterward.
In France, since the reconstruction of the government, the
same plan is adopted as in Great Britain, and the same consequences have followed from it. Ministers are named by the
king, but they must act in conformity with the will of the
deputies. The system of public administration must have the
sanction of public opinion, in order that they may be secure
in their places. In the former country, however, they are by
virtue of their office entitled to a seat in the legislative body,
and are at liberty to pass from one chamber to the other, for
the purpose of explaining their views. In both these respects
they differ from the English ministers, who must be elected in
order to-have a seat, and can only appear in the chamber of
which they are properly members. That part of the French
plan which permits ministers to appear in either chamber is
an improvement on the English. If ministers are selected
from the peers, it makes sure of bringing them into immediate
contact with the deputies of the people.
In Great Britain and France, ministers go out of office in
obedience to the will of the legislature; in the United States,
to that of the president. It may then be supposed, that the
force of public opinion is stronger in France and Great Britain, than it is in the United States. The case is entirely the
reverse, however. In the two first countries, ministers are
appointed by the crown; they are brought into the legislature to weakent the authority of the king, who would otherwise be beyond the reach of public opinion, as he is already
beycnd the reach of the laws. But the president is himself
the creature of public,opinion; and the reason why his secretaries do not abdicate on a change of parties in the legislature,
is because public opinion is strong, instead of being weak; so
strong as to render their influence comparatively null, notwithstanding their continuance in office. But these two con
trary practices are both indications of weakness in the executive power. Only in limited monarchy the king not merely




586             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOoK IV.
submits to it, but is obliged to make confession of it. If his
ministers were not entitled to seats in parliament, there would
be no occasion to remove them.
This notion of a double character as belonging to the head
of the state, this distinction between the functions of the governing and the executive power, was doubtless revolving in
the mind of the celebrated Sieyes, when he drew up his plan
of a constitution, in 1799. And it was a capital feature of
that plan, to carry out the distinction more precisely and
thoroughly than had ever been done before. The chief magistrate, with the title of grand elector, was to be maintained in
princely splendor; he was charged with the appointment of
all the administrative officers of the state, who were thenceforth declared irremovable by him. He was to be elected by
a close body of two hundred members, denominated the constitutional jury. Although living in splendor, like a hereditary prince, and surrounded with all that luster which is calculated to captivate the imaginations of the people, he was not
permitted to exercise himself any part of the executive authority. His authority was strictly confined to the appointment
of the executive officers.
This was to resemble the system of government to those
mechanical contrivances fashioned by the hand of man, which
perform all their movements in exact compliance with the impulse originally given to them. But political institutions possess more or less a self-determining power, which perpetually
interferes with any artificial rules which the lawgiver may prescribe. The great defect of this, as of most other theoretical
plans of government, was that it proposed, by a set of curious
and complicated contrivances, to check one part of the government by another, and this at a period when the power out
of the government had grown to such magnitude and importance, as to demand the chief consideration. The mere internal mechanism of the government, was once everything; its
relation to the social organization, almost nothing. Very different is the case now. A scheme of government, in order to
have any chance of success, must connect itself, in some way
or other, with the popular will. How much more simple, and
how much more effectual for France, is the present arrangement; where a house of deputies is elected immediately by




CHAP. III]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                587
the people, and exercises a complete control upon the appointment of ministers. The effect is to establish practically and
not merely theoretically, a division between the regal and the
executive power. When the structure of government is rendered very artificial, it becomes, in the progress of time, unadapted to the condition of society. But if it only has the
merit of simplicity, no matter how incomplete it may be, it
acquires the faculty of accommodating itself to the progressive
change without. As the popular strength and intelligence
are developed, so will be the political institutions also. It may
be no difficult matter to enlarge the electoral franchise gradually, so as to create a million of electors of the house of deputies. But how can such odd and grotesque contrivances as
the mute legislative body, the grand elector, and the constitutional jury, be improved, unless it is by abolishing them?
The most complex and artificial contrivance ever devised, was
proposed, by ode of the profoundest minds France has produced, at a time when, above all others, society was least prepared to receive it.
The scheme of a double cabinet, which originated in the
court of Frederick, prince of Wales, proceeded from an effort
on the part of the heir apparent, to escape from the wholesome control of parliament. This control, in the reign of
George II, was beginning to assume a regular form, and to be regarded as an important feature in the constitution. It was not
unnatural, therefore, that the king should feel uneasy under a
restraint, from which every other European monarch was free.
Hence this attempt to raise up one set of ministers among the
court, to thwart and humble another set, who had come in
through parliamentary influence. But it was in vain to resist
the current of public opinion, which was silently effecting a
separation between the regal and executive power; and notwithstanding renewed efforts, in the early part of the reign of
of George III, to maintain the prerogatives of the crown unimpaired, and to render the whole ministerial board dependent upon it, the control of parliament, over the appointment
of ministers, has been thoroughly established, and is at this
day regarded as a fundamental principle of the constitution.
No finer illustration can be found in all history, of the constant tendency of public opinion, in a limited monarchy, to
bring about a separation of the kingly and executiue power.




588             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
In Great Britain, the separation of the regal and executive
office has only been brought about by the gradual rise of the
commons. And the same will be the case in France. But the
French " tiers etat" is not yet as powerful a body as the middle class in Great Britain, and therefore does not exert as sensible an influence upon the movement of the government.
Abbe Sieyes's constitution, at the same time that it deprived
the grand elector of the power of governing, annulled the
authority of the second legislative chamber, by taking from it
the right of debate, and by rendering the basis of representation exceeding narrow and confined. The grand elector was
only placed in the system to keep alive a pageant, which might
subdue men to obedience through the influence of the imagination; and yet he is robbed of all the attributes which are calculated to have that effect. But the governing idea of the
plan is very visible; to cut in twain the executive power, and
to bestow the largest share of authority upon those who have
the management of the real business of society.
In the state governments of America the idea which was
floating in the mind of the Abbe Sieyes, has been carried into
practical operation. But all the other institutions are framed
in harmony with this arrangement. The governors are elected,
not to direct the movements of the government, but simply to
keep watch, to see that all is right, and upon any critical conjecture, to ring the alarm bell to the legislative assembly,
which is dispersed during the greater part of the year. Government, in those communities, is so plainly founded upon the
interests of men, that it has been found the easiest thing
imaginable to dispense with all the trappings and insignia with
which the chief magistrates of even the German states surround themselves. As the real and effective business of the
state is transacted by the legislature and judiciary, there, accordingly has the active authority of the state been deposited.
And as every agent upon whom power is conferred, may be
tempted to abuse it, the basis of representation is rendered so
wide as to create a strict responsibility to all orders of men,
and not merely to one class. The chief magistrate is there
placed like a sentinel, upon the highest position, to give warning of any approaching danger. There is no blind, mechanical
contrivance, as in the constitution of 1799, by which each de



CHAP. 111.]    OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                589
partment is expected to act as a check upon the others; and
without any presiding power without, to keep the whole in
order. Free room is allowed for the development of public
opinion; since it is upon public opinion after all, that all legitimate government must rest. Without public opinion, in other
words, without the elevation of the great body of the people
to a condition which will enable them to obtain some insight
into the management of public business, responsibility would
be a dead, instead of a living and active principle.
The American system has answered the desired purpose;
and it may be termed the "beau ideal" in politics. It has
demonstrated that all the great ends for which civil governmenrt is established, may be attained without the employment
of those curious and artificial contrivances which render men
unfit for self government, simply because they hide government from their observation. By rendering men free; by satisfying all their wants, so far as it is in the power of human
institutions to do, it has removed out of the way the prime
cause of all public discontent, and has thus guarded against
the dangers to which both government and society are exposed.
Perhaps with the help of so instructive an experince, it may
be found an easy matter to balance the government of the
most extensive community upon the same plan. The fact that
no commonwealth formed upon the same model had ever before existed, gave rise to the belief that none such could exist.
The firm persuasion that a thing is impossible, often creates a
real and invincible obstacle to its attainment. And as the
imagination has a wonderful influence upon all. our opinions,
we get rid of its disturbing influence and of the notion of impossibility, where we have the example of thirty states (many
of them singly more populous and powerful than Venice,
Genoa, or Florence, in their palmiest days), in which the elective principle is thoroughly introduced, and where the political
institutions possess both more consistency and firmness, than
has been witnessed anywhere else.
The absolute veto is one of the attributes of the executive in
monarchical government. The design in creating the office of
king, we may suppose to have been to raise up some one who
should occupy the place of mediator between the higher and




590             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOI Iv.
the lower ranks. Hence the office is rendered hereditary, in
order to clothe it with the greatest possible influence. Originally the king had no occasion to exercise the veto, because
he had the initiative of all measures. But after the transition
of the legislative assembly, from a mere council to the rank of
an independent body, his situation became very different.
The legislature was then able to run counter to his views, and
he was consequently endowed with a corresponding power to
ward off the attack, and to protect his own prerogative. But
in the course of time, an entire change takes place in the nature
of his office. The executive authority gradually falls into his
hands. And this places him in a still more advantageous
position for acting as a mediator between conflicting parties.
For a hereditary monarch can hardly be said to belong to any
of the parties in the state. This complete independence of all
of them, exempts him from all interest in any question of party
politics; and if his personal influence is undermined, in consequence of so many rival powers growing up around him, his
ambition is less provoked to indulgence, and his prejudices
have less room to show themselves. He therefore not only
removes his ministers, but refrains from the exercise of the
veto, in order that he may conform as much as possible with the
views of the legislature. This is the last term, the final aim,
to which the veto tends in the progress of monarchical government. It becomes, in other words, a dormant power in
practice, as soon as the legislative and executive boards meet
upon the same floor, and are obliged to co-operate in devising
plans for the public welfare.
In the earlier stages of that form of government, the prerogative is employed to compose the dissensions of the patrician
and plebeian classes, or as a defensive weapon against assaults
upon the executive. But those two classes are at length succeeded by another, the great middle class, which itself conciliates the rival interests of the other two, by containing a tolerably faithful representation of the opinions of both. This
class, then, occupies the place of umpire, which the king
before heid: and having drawn to itself, by its commanding
influence in the legislature, a complete control over the executive board, it ceases to meddle with the prerogatives of the
king.




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                591
In a republic, the chief magistrate is an elective officer. He
is chosen by the party in the majority, because he belongs to
it. He is, therefore, designed to be its representative, and is
expected to speak its sentiments. For this reason, the exercise of the veto may be more frequent than in a monarchical
government. And it is because the political institutions are
more instead of less democratic, that this will be the case.
The authority of the king is so independent of public opinion,
he is so completely exempted from all party connection, that
he will readily assent to any measures proposed by the legislative body, provided they do not trench upon his prerogatives.
But the president is altogether the creature of public opinion.
He has no prerogatives. His authority consists in exercising
the power which the majority of society have conferred upon
him. His ambition is to represent and to give effect to the
will of that majority.
But here a difficulty occurs: the president is elected for four
years, the popular branch of the legislature for two, while onethird of the senate retires every two years. The majority
which elected the president, therefore, may not be the majority
two years after he is chosen. The exercise of the veto, then,
at that period, may seem to contradict the public will, while
in reality, it may be in accordance with it. It presents a doubtful case; a case in which a wise magistrate may well pause to
reflect, in order that he may be saved from the reproach of too
hastily giving into every measure which a temporary majority
may favor, and the still greater reproach of contradicting the
settled and well understood opinion of a permanent majority
of society. If he were a hereditary officer, and these doubts
were very perplexing, the true way to solve them would be to
ratify the proposed law. He would then make sure of conforming himself in some degree to the public will, since one
chamber of the legislature is elected, although the electoral
franchise may be very restricted. The president, in aiming at
the same result, that is, in seeking to find the real majority,
may be driven to pursue an exactly opposite course. If the
king should refuse to ratify a law, when his consent should
have been given, the mischief is without remedy. For his
veto is absolute. But if the president does the same, and
thus contradicts the unmistakeable will of tho public, the leg



592             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [300K IV.
islature may place their veto upon his, or if the majority is not
sufficiently large to do this, he may be quietly displaced in a
year or two after. It is very remarkable, that very few instances have occurred of the rejection of a law by the president, which has not met with subsequent approbation. That
is, if we may judge from the succeeding election of president.
But as the patronage which is at present attached to the office,
gives him a great advantage in molding public opinion, we
must beware of speaking too positively on the subject. We
cannot be sure what would have been the result, if that patronage had not been created.
But it is obvious that the exercise of the veto must necessarily have a more democratic tendency in a republic, than it
is possible for it to have in a monarchy. In a republic, parties
take the place which is occupied by classes in monarchical
government. The advantage of this is, that as the great
body of the citizens will be admitted to the enjoyment of the
electoral franchise, no parties can well exist which are not of
a popular character. The great object is to make even the
suspensive veto represent the opinions of at least a large body
of the community. In a monarchy it might represent the
opinion of a single individual. The electoral franchise is
usually so restricted, that there is no way of certainly ascertaining how large a portion of the community is enlisted for
or against a particular measure. In France, whose population is thirty-four or five millions, two hundred thousand electors are a very feeble representative of the public will. Either
the majority or the minority of the deputies chosen by them,
are an equally feeble representation of the parties whose sentiments they undertake to speak. In elective government,
properly so called, the basis of representation is so wide, that
both the great parties which divide the country are essentially
of a popular character. And thus where the veto is in accordance with the vote of the minority, it has the merit of founding itself upon the opinions of a very large section of society,
an advantage which it can only accidentally possess in monarchical government. And it is for this reason that the veto
is suspensive, not absolute in its operation. The design is to
prevent the chief magistrate from contradicting the clear and
unequivocal expression of the public will. Armed with the




CHAP. III.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                593
absolute veto, he might persist in its exercise, whatever was
the strength of the majority against him; or what would be
more common, he might refrain from exercising it when the
public good very clearly demanded it. The suspensive veto
enables him to make efforts to find out what the public will is.
And if two-thirds of the legislature annul his veto, it becomes
impossible for him to run counter to the declared opinions of
a majority of the people. Do what he will, however, he must
act in obedience to the wishes of a popular party, and that
party, whether in the majority or minority, must compose a
very considerable portion of the legislative assembly.
It has been proposed, as one means of insuring a system of
enlightened legislation, that the consent of two-thirds or threefourths of the legislature should be required to the enactment
of all laws. Great inconvenience and mischief, however,
would be the consequence of this. In the first place, a very
large proportion of the laws are not of sufficient importance
to require it. 2d. It might have the effect of delivering the
legislative power permanently into the hands of the minority.
Now it is never the design in representative government to
make the government of the minority the rule, but only the
exception to the rule, so that in a few isolated cases the majority in the country may be sought through the minority in the
legislature. The invariable rule of two-thirds would be better
adapted to monarchical than to republican government. In
the last every law is an experiment submitted to the people,
and it is often very desirable that this experiment should be
gone through with, in order that the effects of any given
measure may be distinctly understood, and that public opinion
may be firmly united one way or the other. The temporary
inconvenience is overbalanced by the benefit attending it.
To avoid the mischiefs arising from the invariable rule of
two-thirds, it has been proposed to subject only those laws
which affect interests of great magnitude to this ordeal. But
it is impossible to discern beforehand what laws will possess
this character. Many enactments derive great importance
from the circumstances, or the particular crisis, when they are
made. The suspensive veto is intended to reconcile all these
difficulties. It may be described as a power, or rather as a
duty, which renders it incumbent on the chief magistrate to
38




594              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [B1oOC IV.
inform the legislative body when the measure about to be
adopted is of so grave a character as to require a reconsideration, and to render it expedient that two-thirds of the members should concur in its enactment. If the clause in the constitution were couched in terms signifying this, the veto would
not have been thought of, any more than one talks of the veto
of the jury upon the opinion of the court, or that of the court
upon the jury, although the effect is the same, leading sometimes to a change of opinion on the part of the court, and
sometimes to a change on the part of the jury. The president
simply says to the two chambers: you are in the heat of the
battle; you would not, therefore, trust yourselves with the
power of deciding precipitately, when the emergency is such
as to demand a reconsideration. I am, it is true, not entirely
removed from the conflict. But the independent position, in
many respects, which I hold, and my election by the people,at
large instead of by a district or single state, impels me,
whether I will or no, to form a judgment which doubtless will
sometimes be erroneous, but which may in the great majority
of instances be conveniently relied upon. This is the reason
why the constitution vests the whole legislative power in congress. The chief magistrate is not considered as a third estate. He is, therefore, not permitted, as in the European government, to have a part in the enactment of the laws. His
office is simply to notify the legislature when a measure is of
so great importance as to demand a reconsideration, and a vote
of two-thirds.
There is another circumstance which differs the exercise
of the veto power in the American government, very materially froum what it is anywhere else. In Great Britain and
France, the legislative power constitutes the sovereignty, and
is competent to change the constitution. In the United States
it is otherwise; the sovereignty resides in the people, and
none but a c'nvention of the people have authority to change
the constitution. In the European states the king may prevent any fundamental alteration in the government, however
wise and beneficial it may be. In the United States no constitutional change can be made by a mere law, and the president has no opportunity of defeating the public will in this
important particular. The veto, even the suspensive veto, is




C}IAP. II.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                595
unknown to a constitutional convention, because the forms
under which it assembles, the rules which are necessary to be
observed before it can be called together, presuppose that consideration and reconsideration, on the part of the community,
which are indispensable in handling matters of so grave a
character. It is easy to adopt the rule of two-thirds or threefourths in this instance, when it would be impracticable or
highly inconvenient to do so in the ordinary business of a
legislative body. The king may persist in maintaining the
vast prerogatives which were conferred upon him centuries
ago, although material changes in the structure of society
have occurred to render them desirable. This power is absolutely denied to the president. If in monarchical government
it is necessary to confer so great an authority upon the crown,
in order to enable it to protect its prerogatives from the assaults of other branches of the legislature, no such reason exists in a republic, because the powers of the chief magistrate
are placed beyond the reach of the legislative body.
There is another view which is entitled to great attention.
Every law alters more or less, the existing state of things. It
is intended to effect a change in some measure or measures,
which were-themselves brought about by the act of a majority.
But it is quite otherwise in almost all other communities,
where government is a self-existing institution, never represetnting the majority, often not even the minority of what may
be termed the substantial population. So that in the United
States, whether the veto be exercised or not, we know that
the old state of things, if it is permitted to continue, or the
new, if it actually takes place, have both been effected by a;
clear majority of the community. The great desideratum, in
other words, is that the legislation of the country shall be
based upon the will of the majority, and in the only instance
where this rule is departed from, the laws in being, still stand
as the expressionf of a majority of but a few years antecedent,
to which is added the vote of any number less than a mere
majority of both chambers of the existing legislature. We make
sure that the veto shall never represent the mere arbitrary
will of a single individual; that the chief magistrate,:whatever his personal wishes may be, cannot free himself from an
alliance with public opinion.




596            NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
In the compound republic of America, there may be a further use in vesting a qualified veto in the president. Notwithstanding the utmost care in separating the domestic police
of the states from the national jurisdictions, they will sometimes conflict. Geographical parties will occasionally make
their appearance, influencing the course of legislation, and
demanding the interposition of an umpire, in order to compel
them to be just to each other. Senators are elected by the
states, and representatives by districts comprised within the
states. But the president is elected by the united suffrages of
the whole. Although, therefore, there might seem to be an incongruity in setting up the will of an individual to control
that of the legislature, yet if the mode of election is such as
to render that individual a more exact representative of the
community as a whole, than the members of the legislature,
the incongruity will immediately disappear.
The disparity between one man and the two or three hundred members who compose the legislative body, is the circumstance which strikes the mind with so much force, and makes
it appear both unnatural and unjust to array the opinions of
the first in opposition to those of the last. But this is a very
imperfect way of making a comparison between the two
things. When one considers the immense disproportion between the handful of representatives who make up the legislative assembly and the twenty millions who compose the
community, the disparity in. the first instance ceases to make
any strong impression, not because it is not greater than in
the second, but because the difference between one man and
two or three hundred men is so little when both are compared
with the whole population, that the disparity in the first instance is reduced to insignificance. And as no one considers
the legislature a defective institution, because it contains an
exceedingly small fraction of the community, for the same
reason, no one can consistently maintain that the office of
chief magistrate is absurdly contrived, because it sometimes
interposes the opinions of a single individual to counteract
the wishes of that small fraction.
The power which the English house of commons possess to
grant or withhold the supplies, has been regarded as an important check upon the enterprises of the executive. But




CHAP. III.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               597
this check has no application in a republic; the constitution
of the executive presents no occasion for its exercise. To declare war and to make treaties, are the exclusive prerogatives
of the king in a monarchical government. In the United
States, the war-making power belongs to the legislature, and
the treaty-making power is under the control of the senate.
A refusal on the part of the legislature to make the necessary
appropriations, would interpose an obstacle to measures which
had originated with itself, or to which one chamber was a
party, instead of creating a restraint upon the executive
power. The necessity of conferring the absolute veto upon
the prince, has been argued from the nature of the office. It
is necessary, it is said, to enable him to defend himself against
the assaults of the legislature. He may refuse his signature
to a law in the passage of which the legislature is deeply interested, in order to coerce it into some other measure, which
will be favorable to the prosecution of his own plans. Such an
adjustment of the powers of government is un natural in the extreme. Representative government, therefore, proceeds upon
totally different principles. It is not the executive, but the
whole community, who are interested in the question of war.
The power to declare it is therefore intrusted with the legislative body. Even in Great Britain, the check which has been
so much relied upon, no longer possesses the same efficacy as
formerly: for the commons have acquired so much importance
as to make itself in practice a party to every declaration of war.
But there is this great defect in monarchical government,
that not only is the direct authority of the king very considerable, but the fashion of thinking prevalent in a court has a
wonderful influence in shaping public sentiment. A war,
therefore, may have the approbation of a great majority in
the legislature, although it is clearly repugnant to the interests of the people.  The elevation of the middle class in
Great Britain, has done much to rectify this unnatural state of
things; but it cannot accomplish everything, as long as there
is a powerfully. disturbing force in some other part of society;
at any rate, not until that middle class is thoroughly and genuinely represented.
In the United States there has been a marked disposition
of late years, to elevate men of moderate talents to the presi



598             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOI( IV.
dency. And this has been regarded as a circumstance of deep
omen to the future, and as indicating a retrograde movement in
society. But there is no reason why we should take this view
of the matter. The election of such men, where there is no
question of their integrity and patriotism, may not only be very
consistent with the public welfare, but it may have a distinct
and very important meaning which it is our duty to decipher.
I have generally observed that where a community is undisturbed by revolution, a tendency of public opinion in one
direction; no matter how singular it might appear to be, was
an indication that there was a defect somewhere, which required to be rectified, and that this tendency was one means
of rectifying it. There is no necessity for supposing that
there is any such thing as a grovelling propensity among the
American people, to search among the descending rather than
among the ascending ranks of society for candidates for the
presidency. The man of commanding talents is not sought
after, because he represents too faithfully one part of society;
and by so doing, fails to represent all other parts. On the
other hand, the man of moderate abilities, the man who has
no very strong and salient points of character, by failing to
represent any one part exclusively, succeeds more fully in representing the whole.
There is another compensation for the disadvantage of excluding superior men from the first office in the government.
A great writer of antiquity has remarked, that the Grecian
commonwealths were absolutely compelled to the employment
of the ostracism, in consequence of the despotic control which
popular favorites exercised. The American government has
-no need of resorting to any such instrument. But a president
who possesses pre-eminent abilities, has a sort of magical control over his party. He may retain the influence he has acquired, notwithstanding he has committed the greatest faults.
The man whose fame has never made any noise, the moment
he is guilty of any serious blunder, begins to feel the foundation on which he stands tremble. Instead of molding public
opinion to his wishes, public opinion controls him, and stops
him in the commencement of his career. The selection of men
of moderate talents may have been fallen upon as an expedient
to subserve the selfish interests of a party. But of- all plans,
it is the one least calculated to promote that object.




OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               599
CHIAPTER  IV.
THE CLASSES OF SOCIETY.
No one man-no one class of men-is able to represent all
the attributes of humanity. It is a fine provision, therefore,
and not a defect, that society should be composed of a great
number of classes, alike distinguished for the variety of their
pursuits, and the still greater variety of faculties which they
exert for the common benefit. The greater the number of
classes the less powerful will any one be; the distance which
separates them will be less, andl the influence which they exercise upon each other, will be proportionably increased. The
ultimate effect of a great number of differences, will be to produce more uniformity, a greater identity of interests and opinions among the whole. It may then be said that society is
balanced by the various classes of men.
But what is it which gives a distinct character to this great
variety of classes? Evidently, the communication of freedom
to all. So that the enjoyment of a privilege, which European
statesmen have fancied would open the door to a countless
train of disorders, may not onl1 carry with it an antidote to
those disorders, but may be productive of the most direct and
positive advantages.
Among the various orders of men, we may enumerate as the
most prominent, the young and the old, the rich and the poor,
capitalists and laborers, the rural and the town population,
professional men, and lastly, the parties of Ilmajority and
minority.
No one who has been an attentive observer of public events,
can have failed to observe that society is frequently subject to
periodical revolutions of public opinion, and that these revolutions, somehow or other, correspond with the growth.of suecessive generations. In the United States this important and




600              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOKI IV.
very interesting fact has been more distinctly manifested than
anywhere else. In 1776, one of these revolutions took place;
in 1801, a second; and in 1829, a third. It would seem that
they depend to a great extent upon the present generation,
which, after the lapse of twenty or thirty years, rises up to
take the place of the older, and that the younger men of the
community exercise a very sensible influence upon the whole
course of public events. This influence may be for good, or
for evil, but as a philosophical fact, it is entitled to great attention.
As in every society of even tolerable duration, a fresh generation arrives at manhood every year, and every day, as much
as every twenty-five years; it may be supposed, that the influence of these successive populations, one upon the other, is
greatly exaggerated. And doubtless such would be the case
if the term influence did not import two things: agents capable of acting, and a material upon which they may act. Now
the laws and institutions of every country are not only intended
to endure much beyond a year, but it is absolutely necessary
that they should do so, in order that there may be any experience of their character, and a subject matter for public opinion
to exert an influence upon. But this we may say, that the
co! stant succession of one generation to another, breaks the
fe.e which would otherwise be exerted after a lapse of years.
ething is achieved every year toward the advancement of
ety, but that there is a marked influence after more distinct
intervals, is a fact which forces itself upon the attention of
every one.
In a well constituted community, this influence will be advantageous. It is in this way, that provision is made for
reniewing the elements of society, and modifying old institutions by the action of new and more liberal opinions. As this
influence in a democratic republic is not stifled by the power
residing in the government, it is gradual, and never leads to
those violent changes which in other countries threaten the
dissolution of society. Instead of a French or an English
revolution, the result of the accumulated abuses of centuries,
society passes by an easy transition to new tastes, new habits,
and an improved social organization.
Very important conclusions may be deduced, in reference to




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              601
particular countries, from the fact, whether the average duration of life, or mean age of death is high or low. In England
it is said to be as high as twenty-five or twenty-seven. In the
United States, it is probably as low as sixteen. For it depends
principally upon the rate of increase of the population. If this
is rapid, and consequently the births numerous, the average
duration of life will be comparatively low, since the majority
of deaths occur in infancy.
In New England, taken separately, I presume that this
average is considerably above sixteen. A society, however,
in which the mean age of death is high, will be apt to be led
and controlled by those who are past middle age; and where
it is low, men under that age will come in for a large share of
offices and of public favor. Men who are past middle age
constitute a larger proportion of the population in the first instance, than they do in the second. Thus where the population
is nearly or quite stationary, society will be most controlled
by those whose views are most stationary; and where it increases with most rapidity, it will be apt to be controlled by
those whose feelings and opinions are most easily modified.
There is a natural foundation then fGr the existence of a movement and a conservative party. The first may wish to move
too fast, the last may be averse to move at all. X The mixt7-v'
of these two classes, so as to insure that each shall have a dc 
degree of influence is the great desideratum. In the westS,
states of America, the population increases faster than in aMA
other part of the world. The movement party, therefore, has
a tendency to become the predominant one. This tendency,
however, is in a great measure counteracted by another circumstance. The institutions are all taken from the older states.
They embody the experience and opinions of an old class of
men. They transfer the influence of that class into younger
societies. The laws and institutions may be modified, but the
fundamentals of government are adhered to tenaciously by all.
But whatever may be the rate of increase of the population,
and the proportion between the young and older men of a
country, a very great deal will depend upon the nature of the
political institutions. The United States and Russia are the
two countries in which the population increase most rapidly.
But the aspect of society in the two is very different.




602             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOiK IV.
Free institutions introduce men at an early period upon the
active theater of life. They hasten the period when they shall
take part in political affairs, because they hasten the time
when they shall engage in the pursuits of civil life. The last
constitute a state of preparation for the first. If a greater
degree of enthusiasm is imparted to the character of public
men, a greater amount of experience is acquired at an early
age, and the judgment is sooner matured than in those countries where men are not permitted to meddle with the interests
of others, and hardly with their own, until the age of thirty or
forty.
But it is not merely the part which the younger men of a
country take in the active business of society which is important to be considered. The influence of the feelings and opinions, which are acquired by men in youth, upon their after life,
is of great consequence also. Both species of influence are
dependent upon the nature of the political institutions. In
aristocratical and monarchical government the period of youth
is to a great extent one of subjection and rigid discipline, from
which the mind does not escape until the feelings and opinions
have been completely molded. And the generation which has
emerged from it know no other rule than to act the part which
their fathers did by them, to maintain their' youth in a state
of the strictest discipline, and to transfer similar habits and
modes of thinking to the walks of public life. But in a democratic republic, although there is no necessary relaxation of
parental authority, the feelings and opinions which are acquired in youth are permitted to expand freely; and they,
therefore spread their influence upon the whole of the subsequent period of life. In such a community education has a
meaning which it has nowhere else. It then becomes the duty
of the government to take care that the elements of instruction
shall be imparted to the whole people. In other words, as
every new generation.after certain intervals gives a fresh impulse to society, it is of great importance that this new
movement should be controlled by a corresponding share of
intelligence. Without free institutions the mind would be
motionless, and society inanimate. With free institutions, but
without a widely diffused intelligence, the impulse which would




CHAP. Iv.i       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                603
be communicated would be more likely to be for the worse
than for the better.
The most general division of society is into the superior and
inferior classes. This is a distinction which we have no reason
to believe will ever be effaced. The different degrees of sagacity, energy, and opportunity, which fall to the lot of individuals, will forever create a wide difference in their respective
fortunes. The only effect of an agrarian law would be, for the
time being, to convert the whole of society into a dead level,
where there would be neither knowledge, or industry, or active
virtue. Our efforts to elevate all men would only terminate
in sensualizing all. Instead of lifting the lower classes higher,
we should procure the abasement of all classes. The improvement of our condition, whether intellectual or physical, depends
infinitely more upon our own independent exertions, than
upon all other circumstances put together. One condition is
indispensable: that the laws should not render property inalienable, or inll any way obstruct its circulation; that it may
be won by those who have industry, activity, and judgment,
to win it. Iun the United States, neither the wealthy nor the
merely independent class is composed of those who inherited
property, but of those who commenced life with little or
nothing,
The existence, then, of two very large classes, is the result
of certain lawms of our nature, which have a fixed operation,
whatever may be the form of government. And the true inquiry is not whether either can be gotten rid of, but whether
the infinence of the one upon the other, is not part of the
machinery by which the welfare of society is designed to be
promoted. American institutions have existed a considerable
period, under circumstances calculated to give activity to the
exertions of every one. And yet even in America we can
discern a well-defined line between the higher and lower orders
of men. Free institutions do not obliterate the distinctions;
oi the contrary, they are eminently favorable to the accumulation of wealth in private hands, since they add to the natural
gifts of some, the further advantages of opportunity, and the
protection.of a system of laws which is equal and invariable
in its operation. It is like the addition of a new faculty to
some men. The resolute, the enterprising, and the industrious,




604             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [nOOI IV.
move forward with rapidity; while those who are differently
organized, or whose will is subdued by causes which are almost
inscrutable to observation, remain in the back ground, less
prosperous, less fortunate in every respect, but not the less
fitted to perform a very important part in the machinery of
society. The most valuable qualities may belong to men in
the inferior walks of life: although do what you will, these
qualities may never be made to tell in the improvement of
their condition. And it is the express design of free institutions, to give to this class a position and weight in the
commonwealth which no other form of government has ever
accorded.
It will be readily conceded, that the superior class exert a
salutary control and influence upon the inferior. But it is not
so easily perceived that the influence which the last exercise
upon the former is equally important. The two orders of men
represent two antagonist forces; the action of oiie upon the
other, prevents either from running away with the power of
the community, and establishes a powerfully-regulative principle which, although it is independent of the laws, yet constantly co-operates with the laws.
It may then be inquired, where is the difference between a
democratic republic and the artificial forms of government.
The last are founded upon a classification of men, and the preceding views suppose that each class plays a very important
part in society, and that the influence of both is necessary to
give system  and regularity to the movements of the government. And this simple statement, which I have purposely
adopted, is sufficient to explain the very wide difference between the two cases. In monarchy and aristocracy, the superior class is placed in the government, and the inferior thrust
out. In a republic all classes are admitted to the enjoyment
of political franchises. The influence therefore which is capable
of being exerted by the one class upon the other, and of both
upon the government, is totally different in the one instance
from what it is in the other.
To talk of the influence of the inferior classes will seem out
of place, perhaps even absurd, to those who figure everything
which is low and vulgar as belonging to them. Even if this
were the case, their agency might be very important. If they




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               605
imparted nothing positive to the rest of society, they might
at any rate act as a check upon the excesses, the splendid vulgarity, if I may so term it, of the higher orders. If one effect
of wealth and refinement, is to corrupt and sensualize the
rich, and at the same time to make the acquisition of political
power more easy of attainment by them, and if we cannot get
rid of wealth without destroying all incentives to industry and
enterprise, the only alternative is, to raise up a class which
will be too numereu3 to be bought, and which will be constantly interested in watching the movements of the class
above them. This control will be negative in its operation at
first; but it cannot exist long without compelling this class to
the cultivation of more wisdom, moderation, and virtue, than
could possibly be the case, if they had the whole field to themselves. Providence never intended the inferior classes to be
mere instruments for the gratification of the power and -ambition of the wealthy, but rather to act as a corrective of the
great defects which are incident to the enviable situation of
the last, to prevent unbridled licentiousness from taking entire
possession of the community, and by putting the refined and
the educated on their good behavior, to make them exert in
their turn a salutary control upon the ignorant and unenlightened. No control is effectual, if it is all on one side.
It must be mutual. It is then more than a control; it is a
positive benefit.
In surveying the walks of private life, one is frequently
struck with the numbers of individuals whose tempers are
soured, and who seem to be every way uneasy in their condition. An air of pleasantry may be assumed, and is almost
universally so when men meet in companies, but a close and
practical observer will easily penetrate through this thin disguise. The cause of this discontent is that all have defects
and infirmities, and yet the defects and infirmities are not the
game in each, or at least manifest themselves in different
forms. This causes individuals to run against and to incommode each other. If the infirmities of all were the same, there
would be much more placidity of temper; for each would then
cordially sympathize with each, and although these infirmities
led to much vice and ignorance, they would be tenderly cherished, because there was no one to frown upon them. There




O06              NATURE AND T'ENDENCY            [BOIS IV.
would be less discontent perhaps, but this disadvantage would
be greatly counterbalanced by the injury done to man as a
rational being. An easy good nature would take possession
of every one, and this would terminate in a species of mere
animal enjoyment, or in a state of absolute vacuity of mind.
By coming into contact with and incommoding each other, individuals for the first time hear of, and are made to realize,
their defects. Great numbers are put upon all sorts of exertion to cure them, and to raise themselves in the scale of intellectual beings. Now precisely the same process, and with
the same good effects, is witnessed in the action of the different classes of society upon each other. If all were alike, all
superlatively prosperous and happy, or if the reverse were the
case, society would become a barren waste.
If then the agency of the inferior classes is so important as
a check upon the superior, the institution of slavery must be
attended with some disadvantages. Its tendency would seem
to be to lead to what we may term an unbalanced state of
society. Slaves have no personal or political influence whatever, and the higher orders are thus freed from a restraint
upon their actions, which is beneficial in the highest degree.
Doubtless they who live in a state where the institution is
established, suppose that their condition is peculiarly fortunate; they may even pursuade themselves that society is better balanced than it would otherwise be, inasmuch as it is
exempt from the turbulance and insubordination which frequently take place among the class of free laborers. But as,
in private life, there would be no domestic happiness or
morality without numberless cares and anxieties, perhaps
even adversities, so there would be no public -virtue and
felicity without very many trials of the same kind. It was
the dissolution of the old form of society in Europe, the breaking up the system of servitude, which gave rise to the middle
class, and caused the whole frame of society to be better adjusted than it was before. We may go further and say, that
this revolution gave birth to the superior ranks, and substituted in the place of a boorish, ignorant, and turbulent aristocracy, a class which is in a high degree distinguished for its
urbanity and intelligence. There would be no superior class
in Europe at this day, in the proper acceptation of the term,




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               607
if it had not been for the disfranchisement, and consequent
influence, of the classes below them. The European states in
which the higher ranks are most polished, most enlightened,
and at the same time most numerous, are those in which the
greatest amount of civil and political liberty is accorded to
the bulk of the population. Much discomfort and annoyance
may be experienced in a society so constituted; but that very
discomfort and annoyance are the source of nearly all the
blessings which have fallen to our modern communities.
In many respects the negro slavery which exists in the
southern states of America, is not open to these objections.
Slaves there do not fill up as in the commonwealths of antiquity, and the European states of the middle ages, nearly
all the departments of industry. There is a very numerous
class of freemen occupying the middle and inferior walks of
life. But if one only knew how to deal with so difficult and
delicate a subject; if one only had the ability requisite to remove the institution without leaving worse consequences behind, there can be no doubt that it would be better that all
the occupations of society should be filled by a free population
exclusively.
The men of the south cannot reasonably contend that the
institution of slavery is a benefit "per se."  But they may
well insist, that the character which it has assumed among
them is totally difterent from what it is any where else; and
that as it is impossible to emancipate in communities where
the slaves are very numerous, and of a race entirely distinct
from their own, without producing the most disastrous consequences to both masters and slaves, it becomes not so much
their right as their duty to maintain the institution. They
may also insist, that there are many compensations attending
the system, notwithstanding the disadvantages under which it
otherwise labors; that slaves are kept under a domestic surveillance like the'children of a family, each master superintending the behavior and actions of those who compose his
own household; that in this way innumerable infractions of
the laws are prevented, which other communities are only able
to punish after they have been committed. I observe that the
people of the north are sensible of the disadvantage of their
situation in this respect. They accordingly make prodigious




608              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOIc IV.
exertions to educate themselves, and to raise the lower classes
to the level of the middle class. They have gone a step further than this. Experience has taught them that the use of
ardent liquors is one of the most fruitful causes of crime and
of every other species of disorder; they have, therefore, made
immense efforts to exterminate the practice. They hear it defended in a great many plausible ways: that it contributes to
good cheer and conviviality. The people of New England
and New York have turned all these specious arguments in
their minds, and have found that after all infinitely more mischief than good is the consequence of the habit; that the indulgence in it, whether by the rich or the poor, whether moderately or in excess, almost invariably disturbs the judgment
and clouds the moral faculties. This, as has been remarked
in a preceding chapter, argues an uncommon degree of reflection among a class to whom reflection has not been usually
ascribed. For it is among the great body of the population,
and not among a select few, that these just sentiments prevail;
and even if this body do not actually constitute a majority,
so as to insure the enactment of corresponding laws, it is at
any rate so large as to demonstrate the existence of a sounder
and healthier condition of society than has ever existed before. I cannot help thinking that the cotrol of a popular class
which is distinguished for such rare intelligence and virtue,
cannot but be salutary in a high degree; that it will contribute essentially to a well balanced society; and that it may
even be difficult to foresee all the good effects which will ultimately spring from it.
It has been noticed, as a characteristic difference between
the northern and southern people of the United States, that
among the former, all sorts of novel and startling doctrines
in religion, morals and politics, are constantly propounded;
while among the last, opinions on all those subjects have acquired a degree of fixedness and uniformity which it is uncommon to meet with in the oldest settled communities. This
difference is supposed to indicate a better social organization
in the south, than in the north, and to afford a proof, that if
education has been the means of imparting more knowledge
to the northern people, it has been at the expense of bewildering them, and of filling society with all sorts of mischievous




CIIAP. IV.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              609
opinions. This view is very incorrect, however. Inquisitiveness, and a reaching after knowledge of any sort; the desire
to form independent opinions upon all. subjects, and the ability
to discuss them, argues a development of the popular mind
which should never be treated too lightly. If there were no
crude and half formed opinions in the world, there would
never be any thoroughly matured ones. The speculations
which are constantly afloat in a society where information is
widely diffused, constitute the philosophy of the people. They
not only give an impetus to the popular mind, but they rouse
and set in motion the cultivated understandings of the country. The germ of almost all the great truths in philosophy
and politics may be traced to the working of the popular
mind.
It has been supposed that democratic institutions give too
much control to the inferior classes; that they favor inordinately the elevation of persons of indifferent character and low
attainments. But in practice, the effect does not take place
to anything like the extent which has been predicted. The
tendency to it is counteracted by two causes: first, by the
consciousness which is ever present to the great majority of
uneducated men, and from which they are never able to free
themselves, that they are unequal to the higher offices in the
state. This feeling, in spite of all the encouragement which
is given to. popular ambition, may be calculated upon with as
much certainty, as any other propensity which influences the
actions of men. It is even desirable sometimes to overcome
it, to draw men of humble acquirements into the walks of active life, in order that free institutions may answer the end
for which they were designed: that is, to make the faculties
of men of all conditions as available as possible to the public
service. Second: it is counteracted by the jealousy which
ignorant men entertain of each other. They are only occasionally brought into contact with the enlightened; but they
live in perpetual juxtaposition with one another. They are
accordingly more incommoded by each other, than they are by
the superior classes; and feel a greater degree of envy of any
remarkable good fortune which may fall to the lot of their
own number.
I think, however, that I can at present discern symptoms,
39




610             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK IV.
in all parts of the United States, of a decided movement in
the opposite direction. The dispersion of knowledge in a
democratic community, multiplies the numbers of the wellinformed to such a degree that the members of this class begin
also to incommode and interfere with one another. So many
of this class are necessarily disappointed in obtaining office,
that they very soon lay schemes for selecting candidates among
the class below them, and once the example is set, these new
favorites are not backward in availing themselves of such
good fortune. The former may not be actuated by any liberal
or patriotic views; they probably wish to make a merit of
their disappointment; or by forming a close alliance with the
masses, to lay the foundation of their own advancement at a
future day. Nevertheless, the course they adopt is, without
any intention on their part, productive of great advantage to
society. The elevation of persons of even ordinary capacity,
to places of trust and responsibility, stimulates them to exertion, and frequently awakens dormant qualities which were
never suspected to exist. The minds of all are improved by
being made conversant with interests which look much beyond the farm or the shop.
Thus the educated and influential set on foot a revolution
which gradually undermines their own importance; but it is
only accomplished by raising a great number of men in the
inferior walks of life to their own condition; in other words,
by creating a counterpoise to their own selfishness and ambition. The great works of internal improvement which have
been executed in the American states were debated and matured in assemblies composed for the most part of ordinary
farmers.
The town and the rural population constitute another division of the classes of a community. These two orders of men
no longer live apart from each other, with habits and manners
as distinct as if they were separated by different ages. This
change is much more remarkable in the United States, than
in any other country. Free institutions, which commence by
individualizing men, ultimately tend to draw them closer together. The greater the amount of personal independence
which each one enjoys, the more numerous are his wants, and
the stronger is the desire and the aptitude for society.




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               611
Civilization commences in the towns; for it is only by congregating together, that men learn to defer to each other's
wants, and are led to co-operate in plans which are calculated
to promote their common interests.  The city constitutes a
nucleus of civilization, around which the country population
gathers; and the more frequent the communication between
the two the more rapidly will the whole population advance
in every species of improvement. In some countries, burdensome and vexatious imposts are levied upon the trade between
the towns and the country. I do not know how far the necessities of any particular government may render this mode of
taxation desirable, but it is certain that it creates a very serious impediment to a free and liberal intercourse between the
two classes; nor is the degree of this impediment measured
merely by the amount of the number of duties which are levied, but goes greatly beyond. Any obstruction to a communication between two classes, whose habits and manners were
originally different, lays the foundation for still greater differences, and keeps them wide apart for centuries.
Although the people of the United States are eminently an
agricultural one, yet in no part of the world is there such a
disposition to build towns. The town and the country have
constantly advanced, hand in hand. The same causes which
give rise to a distribution of the political power of the community, produce also a more exact distribution of the population. The growth of the cities is not determined by the residence of a court and nobility, or by any other causes equally
artificial; but takes the course which is most natural, and
therefore most favorable to the general prosperity. And although foreign commerce will always rear some very large
towns, it may be predicted with certainty, that internal commerce will build up a still greater number nearly as large;
and that, in America, there will always be a more equal balance between the town and country population, than in any
other state which does not possess the advantage of free
institutions. The effect of a thorough intercourse between
these two great classes, is to diffuse intelligence, to render the
civilization more uniform, and to cause a more exact equilibrium of power among the whole. This operates as a protection against those violent revolutions which take place in




612             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
other countries, where the cities, having acquired the supremacy, are in a condition to lord it over the whole country.
A city presents an organized force, somewhat resembling
that of an army, and unless the country population is raised
to a level greatly above that of the European peasantry, it
cannot exert the influence which naturally and legitimately
belongs to it. The French revolution offers a striking example of this fact: the city of Paris ruled with absolute sway
over the provinces, because the provinces were composed of
an abject population. In the United States, the people of the
country are always willing to obey a summons which calls
them to suppress an insurrection in the towns; and their conduct on the very few occasions where their services have been
necessary, has been alike distinguished for humanity and
bravery.
A prime object of political institutions should be to neutralize the power of great masses, and thus to ward off even the
approach of revoluion; and the most certain way of effecting
this is by dispersing knowledge and property among the whole
population. The laws of France restrict the electoral franchise within such narrow limits as to give an undue preponderance to the towns. The qualifications are so high, and the
division of the soil so minute, as to place the great majority
of the electors in the towns. Bustle, activity and enterprise
are characteristics of the towns; while to the rural population,
belong greater simplicity of manners, more hardihood of character, and a peculiar aptitude for cool reflection. By establishing a close communication between these two classes, the
whole population is bound together by one common interest,
and the general standard of. character is greatly elevated.
Capital and labor give rise to another division in society,
not materially different from the classification into the higher
and lower orders, -but pointing more directly to the causes
which, in a thriving and industrious community, lead to the
distribution. The relation of lord and serf at one time swallowed up all other distinctions, and paved the way everywhere
for the establishment of aristocratical or monarchical government. On the other hand, the existence of the two great
classes of capitalists and laborers, is an infallible indication
of a tendency toward an improved condition of society. In




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                613
the United States, these two classes not only compose the
population of the towns —they compose also the population of
the country. Agriculture, in that community, has become a
great trade. The division of the soil, while it is unfavorable
to the acquisition of political power by a few, procures independence to a very large number. The proportion between
laborers and capitalists is, as everywhere else, determined by
the principle of supply and demand; but the condition of
the two classes is greatly modified by the influence of free
institutions.
The struggle between capital and labor is one of the most
striking facts in the history of modern communities.  The
forces of society seem to have taken an entirely new direction.
Instead of efforts to acquire political power, which must necessarily be confined to a few, the great effort of every one now
seems to be to acquire property. Two good effects flow from
this: 1st, the political institutions enjoy more repose,-the
government is not so much endangered by the cabals and conspiracies of the few, as was formerly the case; 2d, by interesting so great a number in the acquisition of property, the value
of property is generally felt, and the population are insensibly
trained to habits which best fit them for self-government.
In the United States, the struggle between capital and labor
presents a much more difficult problem than it does anywhere
else. For if the class of laborers outnumbers that of capitalits, and the present system of nearly universal suffrage prevails, may not the public tranquillity-nay, the very being of
government, be endangered?
The struggle may be harmless, so long as the reward of industry is so liberal as to allow a competent share to both classes.
But when the population has doubled and trebled, the condition of the laborer will no longer be so fortunate; for although
capital will also have accumulated, yet the objects upon which
it can be employed will not have increased in the same proportion, and the double effect of an augmented competition among
both capitalists aid laborers, will necessarily-reduce the amount
of the products of industry, and cause a much less quantity to
be partitioned among the two classes. The condition of both
will be altered for the worse; but that of laborers much more
so than of capitalists. The last may be able to live in comfort,




614             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
while the first may be reduced to a mere subsistence. The
struggle will then become infinitely more intense than it has
yet been. It may give rise to formidable associations among
laborers to raise their wages, and if these efforts are not successful, it may lead to serious riots and insurrection, or the
ballot box may be resorted to as a more peaceful and effectual
means of curing the supposed evil. Laborers may outnumber
all other classes, and by the simple exercise of the right of
suffrage, may cause the laws to be shaped to suit their own
wishes. This is presenting the dark side of the picture, and
it is necessary to view a question of so much interest and magnitude, in every possible aspect, so as to form a distinct opinion of what is to be the future destiny of a country hitherto
so fortunate in its career, and to find out if certain evils are
necessarily incident to a state in which free institutions are
established; whether there may not be some way of alleviating them-whether they are not attended with many compensations-whether, in short, they may not be turned into advantages.
The reason why the struggle between capital and labor, presents so threatening an aspect in the United States, is that
laborers are placed in a much more advantageous condition,
than in any other country. They stand higher in the scale,
both physically and morally. They have on this account, a
more resolute and independent character. The very circumstance which renders their condition so enviable, is regarded
as ominous of the future tranquillity of the country. We thus
look into the future from a wrong point of view. We suppose,
that the demand for laborers, will never be counterbalanced
by the demand for employment; or that the present independent feeling of laborers, will continue, even after their condition is changed. As society advances, there is a constant
tendency to a fall of wages. This is inevitable, whether we ascribe it to the increase of the number of laborers, or to the
increased difficulty of procuring the means of subsistence.
The vast extent of cultivable land in the flited States, will
retard the fall; but come it must, whenever the population has
attained the density of that of France, or Great Britain. Nature will then impose a powerful check upon passions which
would otherwise be ungovernable. For I have constantly ob



CHAP. IV.]      O(F FREE INSTlTUTIONS.                615
served, that poverty, straitened circumstances, the humility of
feeling which these create, have a wonderful effect in subduing the will, and producing a submission to circumstances which
are beyond our control. It would be infinitely better, if the
present independent condition of laborers could be maintained.
But if the fall to lower wages, at a period more or less distant,
is unavoidable, the mischiefs which now threaten society, will
wear a different aspect; and I do not see, how it can be denied,
that the safeguard to the institutions, will be as strong as it is
now, and that it will increase in intensity exactly in proportion as it is needed. Discontent will be much more common,
but it will not be accompanied with the same degree of power
as now. The laborer will have much more cause to complain;
but 1st. The change in his condition will be brought about by
certain laws of society, which neither he, nor any one else can
control. 2d. The same causes will enfeeble his will, and deprive him of the effective power to do mischief. Outbreaks
will be much more common; and they will of course talke place
among a much more numerous body of men; but they will be
powerless, compared with what they would be, it laborers possessed the same independent condition as at present. 3d.
There is a constant tendency, as society grows older, to an
augmentation of capital, and an increase of the number of
capitalists. All those institutions which embody wealth, and
power, will become stronger, so that not only will the ability
to invade property be diminished; but the ability to protect it,
will be increased. I predict that the civil aristocracy, which
will grow up in the United States, will be more powerful, more
intelligent, and more pacific, than any political aristocracy
which has ever existed.
The originally equal distribution of the soil in the United
States, is a circumstance which has never been sufficiently
appreciated. It explains the secret of the private comfort,
and well being of the population; and it may be regarded
also, as the hinge on which turns the stability of the institutions. The soilif Ireland is distributed among less than one
thousand proprietors. Ohio with very nearly the same area,
and one-third of the population, is divided among two hundred thousand. It is obvious, that this great disproportion,
in the one case, between the numbers of the people, and the




616             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IVdistribution of the soil, must exert an influence literally immense,nupon the condition of the people, upon their manners,
character, and powers of exertion; and that it must to the
same extent, affect the structure, and the whole machinery of
government. Ireland is an extreme case; but the same causes
which have produced so striking a disproportion in the division of property there, have acted with more or less force, in
every other European state. All have commenced the rudiments of life in the savage state, and all have submitted at
one period or another, to the dominion of a foreign enemy,
who have camped down among them, and pa'rcelled out the
soil among the chiefs of the army. In England and Scotland,
in France and Spain, in Italy and Germany, the effect of these
revolutions is perceptible at the present day. And if the question were asked, what has rendered possible, the establishment of free institutions in the United States, and what has
rendered their existence so precarious in Europe, the decisive,
and the satisfactory answer would be the originally different
distribution of the soil, has produced these opposite results.
The distinguishing feature then of American society, that
which differs it from all others, either ancient or modern, is
that the tiers etat, or middle class, is not confined to the towns,
but is diffused over the whole country. In Europe, it comprehends the Burgeoise, in the United States, it comprehends in
addition, a vastly more numerous class, to wit, the country
population. This is a circumstance of infinite moment, in the
study of American institutions. It has made a profound impression upon them already, and may exert immense influence
upon the future destinies of the country. Until in Europe,
the middle class is composed of both the great divisions of the
population, the cause of free institutions will be involved in
great uncertainty. 1st. Because until then, the population
cannot be said to be fairly amalgamated. It is not necessary
that the population should all be melted down into one class;
but it is necessary that there should be a ce tain degree of
uniformity, in order to prevent an incessant c  ict of interests
and opinions, and to make the institutions of government
something more than the representative of a section of society.
2d. Until then, the middle class will not be sufficiently strong
and enlightened, to command that respect which silently and




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               617
without the employment of force, molds the institutions to its
own purpose. The revolution which annihilated the legislature and elevated Napoleon III to the throne, could not possible have taken place if France had contained a powerful middle class. No individual can have power to take to pieces the
government if thle population who live under it can agree
among themselves; and this is impossible where the inequalities of society are so great and so numerous as to create the
greatest diversity of opinions and interests. That merely tacit
understanding which takes place among the members of a community in which there prevails great uniformity of condition,
imposes an instant check upon all attempts to revolutionize
the government. The artificial institutions of monarchy and
aristocracy are resorted to for the single purpose of repressing
those great disorders which grow out of the inequalities among
the different parts of the population. A standing army, then,
becomes part of the regular police. It is only a more thorough
organization of the constabulary force. If it took from the
christian era to the French revolution to create a tiers etat in
the towns alone, in continental Europe, how long will it take
to create one among the rural population? In private life, an
individual entitled to respect, generally commands it. The
same is true in political society. Where a strong middle class
makes its appearance, it does not stand in need of a standing
army to protect it. It may even give control of the army to
the executive. No one attempts what is impossible, but at the
utmost what is only improbable.
Are there any causes in operation in the United States
which are calculated to diminish the numbers and to weaken
the influence of the middle class? I have alluded to the difficulty of procuring food, and the consequent fall of wages,
which takes place when a country becomes densely peopled,
and the greater part of the arable land has been appropriated.
There is another circumstance, however, which is beginning
to exercise a powerful influence upon European society. Within the last fifty years a great revolution has taken place in the
whole system of industrial pursuits, in agriculture, manufactures, and commerce. The tendency everywhere is to the creation of vast capitals and the extermination of small ones.
An infinitely greater net produce can be obtained from the




618             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
soil where it is cultivated in large farms, than when it is divided into small ones. As the population residing on and supported by it, is much less, the expense of cultivation is much
less also. The employment of a large capital, and the application of those improvements which none but the wealthy
proprietor can command, enables him to sell cheaper, as a
mloderate profit upon such a capital produces more riches than
the same profit upon a small capital. The effect of this system has been to expel from the soil the former cultivators,
and to introduce in its stead the system of day labor. Until
within the last fifty years, the English laborer lived on the
soil which he cultivated-it was his permanent home. It is
very different now. The cultivation is almost entirely performed by day laborers, who are dismissed whenever there is
no occasion for their services, and who are consequently without employment during the greater part of the year.  In
England the agricultural laborers only amount to about 1,061,000. This great revolution has not been unnoticed by writers
on political economy, but the comprehensive genius of Sismondi* first pointed out its connection with some of the
most important problems in political philosophy. The same
revolution, but with still greater effect, has taken place in
manufacturing industry. Vast numbers of laborers, driven
from the soil, are collected in the towns where manufacturing
establishments have grown up. Their wages are very moderate, and they are liable, on every disaster of trade, to be
left in a state of destitution. Immense capitals are employed
in these manufactures. Formerly fifty thousand dollars was
considered an ample capital. At present less than half a million is not considered adequate to the successful prosecution
of the business. The larger the capital, the cheaper can the
proprietor afford to sell. The same amount of profit which
on a small capital would only maintain his family, will yield
an immense income on a large one. The constant tendency,
then, is to the creation of colossal fortunes in the hands of a
few, and the consequent creation of a vast army of proletarians.
The introduction of industrial pursuits first broke up the
* Economie Politique.




CHAP. IV.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                619
feudal system, and established the metayer system of cultivation. It has now almost completely broken up this, and introduced the system of day labor. The lower classes have
been freed from the direct control and authority of the landed
proprietor, but they are placed in a state of greater dependence than ever.  Instead of living on the soil, where the
means of subsistence was assured to them during the year, or
rather for life, they are now employed and dismissed at the
pleasure of the proprietor. It is difficult to predict what will
be the result of this system, so entirely unknown either in
ancient or modern times. An overwhelming mass of proletarians has been created both in town and country; and although a corresponding increase of the enlightened classes,
and the concentration of wealth and power in the hands of
landed, manufacturing and commercial capitalists, renders it
as easy, or even easier, to govern the masses than formerly;
yet it is evident that the system may be pushed so far as to
cause its own ruin. The extermination of small capitals on
the land, in manufactures and commerce, may cause the middle class to dwindle into insignificance. The class of proletarians may be augmented indefinitely: they may be driven
to despair, their overwhelming numbers may enable them to
combat successfully against the most solidly established authority.
This is the unfavorable side of the picture; and it is necessary to understand what is possible, in order to comprehend
the probable, or even the present. But there are two remarkable circumstances connected with English society, which
show that there is a power of resistance somewhere to this
extreme state of things. The first is, that the wages of labor
have varied very little during the last five hundred years.*
A peck of wheat a day has been the average during the whole
of that period. The extraordinary improvements which have
been made in the science of agriculture, and which have kept
pace with the increase of the population, have retarded the
fall of wages. It is true that a peck of wheat a day may be a
very insufficient reward to the laborer, when he is only employed six months in the year; although in consequence of
Maithus' Political Economy.




620              NATURE AND TENDENCY               []BOOIK V.
the fall of price in all manufactured products, he may be able
to purchase with it, more of the necessaries of life. The operatives in manufacturing establishments, however, are not
subjected to this disadvantage. They are hired during the
year. The second circumstance which is entitled to our attention, is presented in the British income tax returns of 1812
and 1848. From these, it appears that there has been an
increase of the number of moderate, and a comparative diminution of colossal fortunes.
1812.   1848.
Between ~150 and ~500, ---—.. --—. --—.. —    30,723  91,101
500 and 1000,..     -.. -.-..  5,334  13,287
1000 and 2000,.......  2,116   5,234
2000 and 5000,........... 1,180   2,586
5000 and upwards.................... 409   1,181 t
M. Sismondi has not noticed these two circumstances. The
mind to which new and striking views are presented, is very
apt to run them out to extreme consequences. Nor is this
to be regretted. They would not make so strong and distinct
an impression if they were not pushed to extremity, nor would
those circumstances which contribute to modify them, be so
easily found out. The consideration of what is possible, as I
before remarked, sheds light upon the probable, and even
upon the actual.
The employment of immense capitals in every department
of industry, is the secret of the commercial prosperity of
England. The complete centralization of capital causes all
commodities to be produced, and sold cheaper, and compensates, in some degree, for heavy taxation,  and the increasing
difficulty of obtaining food. But it is doubtful whether the
great mass of the population are placed in more favorable
circumstances. The number of the poor, instead.of diminishing, is augmented by the increase of riches. Never was industry productive of such brilliant results, and never was
the class of proletarians more numerous.
This system is evidently springing up in the United States.
There is the same tendency to the employment of great capitals in every department of industry. It will be a very long
time before the system attains its maximum; but to the politt Nat. Intelligence, March 20, 1851.




CHAP. IV.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                621
ical philosopher, one or two hundred years are but as a single
day. There are some circumstances, however, which will
contribute to counteract the effects of this system. Ist. The
general standard of comfort is higher than it has ever been
in any other country; and inveterate habit will render it very
difficult to depart from it. 2d. The principle of equal partibility prevails in the descent and devise of estates. Equal
partibility, however, may be carried so far as to create an
immense army of proletarians, or it may terminate in an
opposite result. Great capitalists may purchase a multitude
of these small estates, and the system of great landed properties may ultimately be introduced. The principle of equal
partibility, however, will be applied to these large properties
also, and they will be crumbled in a few generations, into
small fragments. The desirable medium may in this way be
attained; and the high standard of comfort, together with
the alternate creation and destruction of overgrown estates,
may place the great mass of the population in more advantageous circumstances, than anywhere else.
M. Sismondi is silent with regard to the condition of the
French population. This arises from the adoption of an exclusive theory, the strength of which might seem to be impaired by admitting any important exceptions to it. The
theory is entiled to great attention; but it is indispensable to
be acquainted with the whole ground on which we travel.
France affords a very instructive lesson. There is the same
tendency there, as in other countries, to the employment of
large capitals in manufactures and commerce; but it is otherwise in agriculture, and agriculture constitutes the occupation of the great majority of the population. The rule of
equal partibility has prevailed for more than half a century.
The number of proprietors has consequently augmented prodigiously. According to M. Dupin, France, in 1834, contained
twenty-four millions of proprietors, in a population of thirtytwo millions. Such is the number inscribed on the public
registers. A very ingenious writer insists, that as the report
made by M. Guion to the chamber of deputies, the same year,
shows that the land is encumbered with a debt contracted by
proprietors, to the amount of thirteen thousand millions of
francs, those who owe this debt are only nominally proprie



622             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
tors.?  The morgagees of the land may ultimately swallow up
these innumerable small properties. The fact, at any rate,
shows the wretched condition of the agricultural population,
and that the division of the soil, and the cultivation of it by
those who reside on it, has not been more favorable to the
general comfort than the opposite system of large farms and
large capitals. More than twenty millions of this people can
neither read nor write; twenty-two millions earn only from
six to seven sous a day, and of the twenty-four millions of
proprietors, twelve or fourteen millions have not always even
coarse bread to subsist on. It would seem that neither the
English system, which aims to produce the greatest amount
of net income, nor the French, which is directed to the production of the greatest amount of gross produce, have succeeded in placing the great bulk of the population in a state
of even tolerable independence. Here are two opposite experiments proceeding simultaneously in two countries, separated only by a narrow channel, and the result in each has
been to produce a vast army of proletarians.
If we suppose then that all the overgrown estates in Great
Britain and Ireland were broken up and sold in small parcels,
there is no absolute assurance that the condition of society
would be permanently ameliorated. The effect of the division
of property is to give a fresh stimulus to the population. The
abolition of the laws of primogeniture, and entail, would almost necessarily produce this great change. Properties would
be subdivided every generation, and the British peasantry
and operatives might be reduced to the same fare of black
bread as the French. In applying these views to the United
States, we must again revert to the circumstance to which I
before alluded. Th3 division of the soil was originally, and
continues to be, incomparably more equal than in any European country. This original difference in the structure of society, combined with the high standard of comfort, each acting upoD and contributing to fortify the other, may forever
ward off the existence of either the French or the English
system. And when we add to this the influence of those political institutions, which grew up at the very foundation of their
society, habits absolutely indelible may be grafted upon the
* P. Considerant Dest. Soc., v. 1, p.152




CHAP. IV.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 623
whole population. As the experiment stands alone, in the
history of human nature, the results may be different from
what they have been in any other country.
I have now pointed out some of those general causes, which
impede the regular march of society, and which raise or depress the condition of the various classes. But there are
some circumstances of a more hidden character, which act
with more or less force upon multitudes of individuals, whatever may be the structure of society, and however wide the
arena of exertion may be. Thus, in the United States, where
it is strictly correct to say, that the great bulk of the population belongs to the middle class, there are very great diversities in the condition of individuals. It is because these circumstances are confined to individuals, and do not characterize
classes, that it is difficult to unravel them. The history of the
individual has never been written. The character and habits
which are common to classes, are easily seized and appreciated, those which belong to individuals are indefinitely diversified, and we search in vain for a clue to guide us to some
general rules.
It is not necessary to inquire why, in the great majority of
countries, one-half, sometimes a much greater proportion of the
population, is in straitened or destitute circumstances. But why
in the United States, where the field of exertion is almost unbounded, there are the greatest diversities in the condition of
individuals, is a problem for the inquisitive mind to ponder
upon. The present may be termed the golden age of the republic: there is not the least reason to believe, so far as physical comfort is concerned, that, as a whole, anything better will
succeed. It is the first time in the annals of mankind, that
the wish of Henry the Great has been realized, "that every
man had a piece of meat to put in his kettle." Do the differences I have alluded to arise from difference of capacities;
taking capacities, in its most detailed signification as denoting
good understanding, acquired ability, shrewdness, manners, acquaintance with the world, etc.; or, second, from a difference
in the affective faculties, or of constitution, health, temperament; or, third, from difference of opportunities; fourth,
from difference of organization, disposing some instinctively to
exertion, and inclining others to love of pleasure, repose, and




624             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
inaction; fifth, from so many having little or nothing to begin
life, the families to which they belong being numerous, and
leaving little to be divided; sixth, or from receiving so much,
as to corrupt their character, and enfeeble their exertions.
To trace the operation of these causes, not only singly, but
in their complication with one another, and with a multitude
of others so minute, as almost to elude scrutiny, would be the
work of a lifetime. To trace their operation in a society ot
ten, or fifteen thousand, would be impossible, without a close
and minute knowledge of the individuals who compose it.
But how shall we obtain this knowledge in a society of millions. The human countenance and manners, even in the conmonest individuals, draw over the mind and character such a
disguise, that it is difficult to penetrate the interior. Persons,
the most dissimilar in understanding, in effective faculties, in
organization, constitution, and health, frequently wear pretty
much the same face and demeanor; and yet a difference in
any one of these respects, not merely in the broadest signification, but a difference of shade only may give a direction to
the whole of life.
Is there any way of legally removing the great inequality
of property. Can those who accumulate wealth be considered
as appropriating to themselves the just proceeds of the labor
of others; and if they can, would those others appropriate
these proceeds to themselves; or would they, for want of the
industry and energy which set labor in motion, cease to be
produced at all. These are all inquiries of great nicety, as
well as of great moment, in determining what is to be the nature of the struggle between capital and labor, and what the
form which the institutions of society will ultimately assume.
I am very far from regarding the struggle between capital
and labor as of ill-omen to the future prosperity and well
being of a country. It is a pretty sure indication that the laborious classes have risen in intelligence and importance, and
that they, as well as capitalists, are enabled to exercise some
judgment as to the standard of comfort which befits them. It
is this very struggle which permits the former to maintain
something like a respectable and independent station. The
man, distracted by poverty, has no time to look beyond his
mere animal wants; the man who obtains due wages, feels his




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               625
faculties unbound. He can look around him, and gather up
some of the information which is scattered about. He feels
new motives to a regular and virtuous conduct, and is rendered an active and useful citizen, instead of being a brute
machine. If this introduces a new element into every calculation which has for its object the determining the proper
amount of wages due to the laborer, so much the better. It
cannot be doubted, that capitalists enjoy a great advantage in
this respect, in consequence of their superior intelligence:
that this intelligence does count for something, and although
the relation between the supply and the demand of labor, is
the over-ruling principle, yet that like all other general principles, it is capable of being greatly modified in practice.
There is every reason, therefore, why, if the class of capitalists are raised in the scale of intelligence, the class of laborers
should be also. For when we speak of the struggle between
capital and labor, we necessarily intend something more than
the mere fortuitous or customary adjustment of the two, by
causes independent of any human control; we intend that the
judgment is exercised, and that active efforts are made use of
by both parties in every contract of service. To denounce the
struggle between capital and labor, therefore, would be in
effect to lament over the improved intellectual and moral condition of the lower classes. But this we cannot do consistently. If there is any one object which every man, philanthropist, patriot, or statesman, has at heart, it is to diffuse
education as widely as possible, and to lift the greatest number of men possible to the rank of intelligent beings. That
there must be a limit to our efforts is obvious; but when one
compares the condition of the lower classes, even in Europe,
at the present day, with what it was two centuries ago, it is
evident that infinitely more may be effected in this respect
than any human sagacity would have predicted. That laborers and operatives are able to exercise some judgment as to
the amount of wages which are justly their due, that, in other
words, the struggle between capital and labor is not a struggle all on one side, is every way favorable both to the prosperity and the tranquillity of the country. It gives to the
community a body of more effective laborers, and tempers the
misguided feelings which would otherwise take possession of
40




626             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOKI IV.
them, whenever a season of distress occurred to interrupt
their enjoyment, as well as that of capitalist. The reflection
which their improved habits impart to them, draws them
back, whenever they are in danger of running into excesses.
It must not be supposed because people are poor that they
are therefore rendered insurgent and revolutionary. In order
to produce this effect they must, as a general rule, be able to
connect their disadvantageous condition with the hand of government as its cause. Poor people, as a class, are fully as
much disposed to be orderly as people in a higher condition.
Prosperity of any kind administers so many provocatives to
the passions, that it requires to be counteracted by powerful
motives of self-interest. A humble condition and the constant
occupation which it renders necessary, are apt to have a subduing influence upon the temper and character. It is when
government undertakes to make discriminations prejudicial to
the inferior classes, that they are most disposed to acts of insubordination. Doubtless the institutions of America are
environed with many difficulties; and it is in order to lessen
the weight of these, that I desire to see the great body of
operatives raised as high as practicable in the scale of society.
The contest between capital and labor will then not be settled
by brute force on the one side, or by superior adroitness on
the other; but will be conducted with some degree of judgment
and caution, and will terminate, in the great majority of instances, in a compromise advantageous to both parties. What
are termed "strikes" are by no means uncommon in the
United States.  Sometimes there is no well-founded cause
for complaint; and then workmen recede from their demands
and return quietly to their occupations. But the reverse is
frequently the case; and then each party concedes something
to the pretensions of the other. A new agreement is made,
which, without sensibly impairing the productiveness of capital, adds something to the comforts of laborers, and smoothes
all those difficulties which had for a time suspended their accustomed occupations. But capitalists will forever possess
one advantage over laborers. They can afford to lie idle for
six months, or even longer; while the last, having accumulated
little, are obliged to depend upon their regular wages. And
this advantage increases just in proportion as combinations




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               627
among laborers become most dangerous; that is, in proportion
as the population becomes more dense. It is fortunate, therefore, that as society advances to the period when the circumstances of so great a number will be very much straitened,
there should be some causes in operation calculated to raise
the standard of both physical and moral comfort, and to present the only natural corrective which exists to an absolute
redundancy of the population.
I observe that it is not unusual in the United States for
workmen to specify their grievances in writing, and to cause
them to be published. This circumstance is no small indication
how much that class are elevated in the social scale. To be
able to analyze our thoughts, and to frame reasons for our
conduct in any important conjuncture, is precisely that sort of
mental ability which it is so desirable to encourage, in order
to temper the passions of the multitude by the exercise of calm
judgment and reflection.
And the practice of giving publicity to these complaints is
particularly worthy of commendation. It affords very strong
evidence that those who complain are themselves convinced of
the justice of their complaints, and that they are willing to
put them to the test of an open and manly avowal. Instead ot
those secret combinations, which were formerly so common,
and with regard to the merit of which no impartial person
could form any judgment whatever; workmen who set themselves up in opposition to the exactions of their employers, feel
themselves under an obligation to sustain their conduct by a
fair and intelligent exposition of their case. The public is, for
the most part, an impartial spectator in affairs of this kind;
it is not apt to be moved by inflammatory appeals, when these
appeals, however common, are made by distinct bodies at different intervals, and never comprehend at any one time any
considerable class of the population. I cannot refrain from
copyipg one of those memorials, which expresses the justest
sentiments, in language of the greatest terseness and brevity.
The journeymen house carpenters in one of our cities made a
strike for the ten-hour system, and this is what they say in
their statement: " We are flesh and blood; we need hours of
recreation. It is estimated by political economists, that five
hours labor per day, by each individual, would be sufficient




628             NATURE AND TENDENCY             LBOOK IV.
for the support of the human race. Surely, then, we do our
share when we labor ten. We have social feelings which must
be gratified. We have minds which must be improved. We
are lovers of our country, and must have time and opportunity
to study its interests. Shall we live and die knowing nothing
but the rudiments of our trade? Is knowledge useless to us,
that we should be debarred the means of obtaining it? Would
we be less adept as workmen? Would the trade, of which we
are members, be less respected or useful? Or would the community, of which we are members, suffer less because we were
enlightened?"
We need not fear any ill consequences from the influence of
the class of working men, when we find them capable of taking
such just and liberal views; views which denote that they have
a true perception of their own rights, and that they desire so
to use them as to make them subservient to the common weal.
We should rather hail this influence as the symptom of an
exceedingly sound and healthful condition of society. It is fit
that the relations which this class bear to the class of capitalists, should be adjusted by these two parties, instead of by
appeals to governmental regulation. An European community
may be obliged to resort to the last course. But wherever the
first is pursued, we may be sure of two things: that the class
of working men has risen greatly in the scale; and that there
is a high probability the affairs of society will continue to be
conducted in a peaceful and orderly manner.
Even admitting, therefore, that the inferior classes should
come to predominate in the United States, while the present
laws of suffrage continue to exist, it does not therefore follow
that the country is to be converted into a bedlam. On the
contrary, there is every reason to believe, that things will continue pretty much in the same even tenor which they have
hitherto held. In progress of time, there will be both a more
numerous class of rich, and a more numerous class of poor.
But the middle class will forever outnumber both the others.
The distribution of the rural population, so different from what
it is in any other country, insures this, whatever may be the
growth of manufacturing industry. It is to the exertions of
this class, that the operatives in England are indebted for the
amelioration of their condition. And it is upon the permanent




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               629
influence of this class, that we are entitled to fasten all our
hopes of the future in America.
If we were to suppose the operatives of the manufacturing
establishments to constitute a majority of the electors, and
even a majority of the legislature, what laws could they pass
which would better their condition? To make a division of
incomes between the capitalists and themselves, would instantly annihilate capital, and would render the condition of
the last unspeakably wretched. If the income of all the rich
was equally divided among all who were not rich, it would not
amount to a week's support to each. And admitting that there
would be a large number who were incapable of foreseeing
these consequences, there would be a still larger number who
would clearly discern them.
The ignorance of the ignorant is rarely so great as to blind
them to the perception of the few elementary principles on
which their own interests binge. After making every allowance, therefore, for those popular excesses to which society, in
whatever form it may be cast, will forever be occasionally
liable, I cannot help thinking that the enjoyment of political
liberty by the inferior classes, instead of being a hindrance to
good government, will assist in promoting it. Nor is there
the least probability that these classes will ever compose the
majority in the Amlerican legislatures. There are certain laws
of human nature, the operation of which may be calculated
upon with nearly as much certainty as those which preside
over the physical world. Every man would gladly be his own
lawyer and his own physician, and, whenever occasion required
it, show himself master of every other department of knowledge.
It would save a great deal of expense, and would administer
mightily to human vanity if such could be the case. But the
impossibility of the thing is so manifest, and is so universally
felt, that, although all professions should be laid open to
general competition as are already all other branches of knowledge, the great majority of people will apply to those who have
skill and experience, and would consider it the greatest misfortune in the world to be cut off from their advice and assistance. The same is the case with matters of government.
The most ignorant men may desire to become legislators;
their interest and ambition would seem to be as much grati



630             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
fled in this way as by becoming their own lawyers and physicians. But a desire which, as soon as it is formed, is sure to
be smothered by an overwhelming sense of deficiency, can
never have any effect.
It is not merely as a political privilege that the electoral
franchise is so valuable; the influence which it exerts upon
the general manners is inestimable. It causes men to respect
and to defer to each other's opinions. It accustoms those who
are invested with any species of influence, whether of a political or a merely civil character, to use it equitably and prudently; and it disposes those who are any ways subject to
this influence, to regard it, not as an odious privilege, but as
a source of peculiar benefit to themselves. Doubtless the
very general enjoyment of the electoral franchise in the
United States, is one reason why the system pursued in the
management of manufacturing establishments is placed upon
a so much more advantageous footing than in any other country. By learning to respect others, we are made acquainted
with their interests: and this respect then becomes something
more than a dead formality. Not merely are the operatives
in these establishments better fed and clothed, but they are
treated much more as reasonable beings. Their education and
religious instruction are considered as having some place in
the economy of these institutions.
The enjoyment of political privileges by men in the inferior
walks of life, is in reality the only way of effectually conciliating the interests of all classes. It may be said, that as the
management of public affairs requires skill and information of
a particular kind, it should be devolved upon those who have
time and opportunity to acquire them; on the same principle
as a division is made of all the other pursuits of society; that
inasmuch as the mechanic and the farmer do not undertake to
interfere with each other's calling, nor either to dictate to the
physician or the lawyer as to the right way of applying their
information and experience, there would be the same propriety
in confining the whole business of government to a class set
apart for that purpose. The two things are in truth very
properly compared, and it is because they are similar that the
management of political affairs is not conferred upon a particular order of men: although the professions and trades are




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                631
exercised by those who have skill in them, yet all who have
need of legal or medical assistance are free to chose their own
physician and lawyer. If this were not the case, if a monopoly were established in favor of a few select practitioners, the
same skill would not be exercised by them, and the public
would lose all confidence in their ability and integrity. The
perfect freedom of choice which every individual enjoys, does
not prevent the various professions and trades from being separated from each other. And the same is the case with political affairs. The right of choosing their own rulers does not
convert the whole population into lawgivers or judges, nor
interfere in any degree with the weight of such public men as
are remarkable for their talents and information. The division of labor in America is, in this respect, as strict as it is in
any other country. The institutions may fit a greater number
for political employments, but the employments themselves
are distinct from any other pursuits as they can well be made.
If the citizens did not enjoy the right of voting for their public officers; if a monopoly of all public trusts were created in
behalf of a few, there would be no effectual check upon the
conduct of public men. They would do pretty much as they
pleased, and instead of being overawed by public opinion
when their actions were reprehensible, they would themselves
create public opinion, and compel all others to yield obedience
to it.
The dark side of the picture, as I have termed it above, supposes that the operatives and laborers may become so numerous as to control the elections, and ultimately to undermine
the most wholesome and most solidly-established institutions.
The error consists in supposing that what is possible is therefore probable, and that whatever is probable may be strictly
reduced to practice; whereas, the probable is subject to as determinate laws as the certain. We do not always will to do
what we desire, for the motives to human action are derived
from without as well as from within; moreover, we find innumerable obstacles in the mere will of other individuals. And
although, if we are the majority, there is a physical possibility
of bending their actions to suit our purposes, yet, invariably,
in practice, a limit is imposed upon our efforts. The moral
possibility must be taken into the account, fully as mush as




632             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK IV.
the physical; and although the laws which govern the first
are more undefined, more dimly seen, than those which govern the last, yet the difficulties which surround any novel and
violent enterprise are not on that account lessened, but are,
in the greater number of instances, very much increased. So
far as the history of human nature is handed down to us, in
the history of the various communities which have existed,
we find that in no one instance have a majority of men ever
accomplished those things which they may be supposed to
have desired to do; and this is calculated to suggest the
thought —whether moral hindrances do not, in fact, impose as
insurmountable obstacles to action as physical ones, although,
when we view each in the abstract, we say, of the former,
that they are something which can invariably be overcome,
and of the latter, that they can never be. What is the reason that whole peoples have lived for centuries under despotic
governments, although those who desire a change constitute
an immense majority'. The change could be easily effected,
if there were only the determined and the united will. Moral
obstacles, then, it would seem, are absolutely insurmountable
sometimes, even when the physical impediments are capable
of being removed.
There must be some wise reason for this constitution of our
nature. When we deal with the actions of other men, when
we meddle with the institutions which preside over them, as
well as over ourselves, we require a good deal of knowledge in
order to see our way clearly, a good deal in order to carry us
successfully through, and still more in order to inspire us with
the requisite assurance and self-reliance. The want of these
presents as real obstacles to human conduct as any physical
impediments, and we may, therefore, calculate with as absolute certainty upon part of the actions of whole communities as we do upon the happening of physical events.
We will suppose that a large majority of the members elected to the American legislatures was composed of day laborers
and operatives, and the favorite scheme with these two bodies
was the passage of an agrarian law, —not one like the Roman,
which confined itself to an equal distribution of the public
domain, and exacted an adequate rent for it, —but one which
contemplated an equal division of all the property, already in




CHAP. IV.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               633
the possession of individuals,; and the result of their independent exertions. These bodies would no sooner have met
than the spectacle would be one so repugnant to the common
sense of mankind (including, in the term mankind, all those
who belong to the class elected,) as to frustrate, in the very
beginning, all schemes which had been set on foot. For what
can be conceived more unnatural than that a considerable
part of the population of any civilized community should cut
themselves off from all communication with the educated and
enlightened, that they should refuse to listen, in any respect,
to the counsel and assistance of those whose superior opportunities pointed them out as indispensable guides in every public emergency, and that they should so act for the express purpose of committing an act of gross injustice to all proprietors
of land and personal property in the country. I venture to
say, that the exceeding awkwardness which those legislative
bodies would feel, in finding themselves placed in so unheard
of and so startling a position, would strike with impotency
every resolution which may have been formed: I go further,
and say that this single consideration proves that no such
bodies ever will or can be elected in America.
The most plausible supposition that we can make, is not
that the day laborers and operatives should elect representatives from their own body, but rather that they should choose
from among the other classes persons who had some pretensions to education, and some acquaintance with the general
run of public affairs; and who, having little stake in the public weal, should be every way inclined to fan the embers of
public discontent, in order to gain a name in the world. In
the first instance, we introduce into the legislative halls members who would feel themselves absolutely powerless at the
outset, in the discussion or concoction of any measures whatever. In the second we introduce persons there, whose advantages of one kind or other place them in near communication with the enlightened and influential. But these men's
actions will be governed by some fixed laws. They only differ
from other men, in being very discontented: and discontent
and envy, we know, often drive men to do many things which
they feel to be wrong. This feeling, the consciousness that
they stand in a false position to society, cannot be shaken off;




634             NATURE AND TENDENCY              LBOOK Iv.
it will introduce an element of discord into all their actions.
In order to act with vigor and promptitude, they will be
obliged to make efforts to conciliate public opinion. They
either fall to the ground on every encounter with members
who are superior in moral and intellectual accomplishments,
or they seek to win both sides by pursuing a middle course.
The third and most rational supposition we can make, is,
that the class to which I have alluded, although never so numerous as to elect anything like a majority of the members,
will always have sufficient influence to cause their interests to
be represented, that they will even sometimes send members
who will entertain the same ultra views as themselves. If
they did not, it would be to be feared that ultra views on the
other side would take possession of society. No harm, but on
the contrary, very great benefit, will be the consequence.
There are many problems in the social organization which
remain to be settled, and which can only be settled by the
mutual and earnest co-operation of all classes. But a revolutionary movement invariably jeopardizes every thing; it
is sure to be followed by a reaction, and after an interval
more or less considerable, men are compelled to begin anew,
to set out with reflection and a due regard for the rights of all
others. If any one should still insist, that these considerations
are not sufficient to show that the evils of universal suffrage
will not be averted, I have no objection, but rather prefer that
this apprehension should constantly press upon the mind of
every one. It is, as I have often repeated, a most wholesome
provision of our nature, that our apprehension of the mischief
which may ensue from our own conduct, should have a perpetual influence upon us. The feeling in great part supplies
the place of reflection, where this is deficient. My desire is
never to pursue the analysis to the utmost limit, for fear of
impairing the strength of that feeling; or to speak more correctly, I am denied the ability to do so, because it would interfere with an essential part of the machinery of society.
Professional men constitute another division of the classes
of society. The influence they exert is immense; nor is it
easy to conceive of a well-balanced society, unless they were a
constituent part of the population. The intellectual men of a
country are the hinges upon which society turns; and the




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               635
members of the three learned professions necessarily compose
a very large part of the class of intellectual men.
It is a fortunate circumstance that some degree of knowledge and education is absolutely necessary to even the physical
well being of society. If such were not the case, it is doubtful
whether men would ever have made any advances in intellectual improvement worth naming. The three professions grow
immediately out of wants which are common to all mankind;
and as they render study, information, and mental discipline
essential to those who practice them reputably and successfully,
they serve both to diffuse and to perpetuate knowledge. But
these professions are either directly or indirectly connected
with all other departments of science; and this lays the foundation for a general system of education, and creates a fourth
profession: the teacher, whether in schools, academies, or
universities. It is a fine provision, therefore, in the constitution of society, that our physical wants and the passions which
grow out of thein, render necessary the employment of our
higher faculties; and that the more those wants and passions
increase in strength and become dangerous to the state, the
more certain is the tendency and the encouragement to knowledge. Without knowledge, or at any rate, without the influence which knowledge imparts, men would be condemned to
a condition very little above that of the brutes; and with
power infinitely greater than that of the brutes, to injure
and torment each other. As the individual who exercises all
his faculties has the best balanced mind, so a society in which
education is widely diffused, and knowledge is permitted to
have its rightful authority, is sure to give rise to the best balanced community.
The influence which professional men are capable of exerting
upon the rest of the population, will depend in a great degree
upon the manner in which they are distributed through the
state. There is the greatest difference imaginable in this
respect, between the legal profession in the United States
and Great Britain. In the former, lawyers are scattered over
the whole country, while in England and Scotland, the greater
part congregate in London and Edinburgh. I do not now
speak of attorneys, but of barristers, the correlative of which
in America is the term lawyers. Attorneys in Great Britain,




636             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
practice a trade, rather than a profession, and a trade so mischievous in many respects, that it is not surprising the abolition of the order should have entered into the plan of' the
commissioners who were appointed under the act for the reformation of the law. The offices of attorney and barrister, are
for the most part performed by the same persons in the United
States. Where this is not the case-where the business is of
such an amount, as to render necessary a division of labor, a
partnership is formed, one member of which devotes himself
to the duties of an attorney, and the other to those of barrister
and counsellor. The existence of a partnership, however, is no
evidence that the duties are separated; for the instances are
much more common, where both the members practice equally,
in the different walks of the profession. There is at any rate
no such class known as the corps of attorneys. The lawyer is
responsible for all the business which he transacts, or is connected with; there is no race of jobbers behind his back, whose
conduct is withdrawn from his supervision, and almost veiled
from the rest of the community.
The very equal distribution of lawyers among the population, is a remarkable feature of the social organization in the
United States, and is attended with the most salutary consequences. Something similar to it may be observed in France,
where the system of local courts is now established; but the
difference between France and the United States, in this respect, is as great as between France and Great Britain.
The intellectual influence which professional men exercise
is twofold. They apply much learning and sagacity to the
subjects with which they are particularly conversant; and this
insures the existence at all times of a certain amount of knowledge in the community. The lawyer assists in protecting our
property and personal rights from invasion, the physician
preserves our health, and the clergyman teaches and unfolds
those truths, without which, all other truths would be impotent and valueless. In order to accomplish these tasks, the
best-endowed minds in each profession are obliged to bring a
very considerable body of scientific information to bear upon
the practical interests of men. This gives to that information
a tangible character, and introduces even unprofessional men
to a very tolerable acquaintance with it. The clergyman and




CHAP. IV.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               637
the lawyer appear before the public in the discharge of their
professions. The practice of the physician is necessarily of a
private character, being confined to his office, or to the sick
chamber, which is doubtless one reason why there is less general acquaintance with the science of medicine, than with
either law or divinity: although it is not more abstruse than
the two last, and although the great majority of mankind have
so great a desire to pry into its secrets. But the acquisition
of any one branch of knowledge, is an easy introduction to a
fund of general information on other subjects. The intelligent
clergyman, lawyer and physician, will not be satisfied with a
knowledge of their respective callings; they will each strive
to go beyond, in order to render themselves both more useful
and more respectable. Hence, professional men are apt, as a
general rule, to be the best informed class in the community.
Now it is obvious that the location of lawyers in the United
States, the fact that they are distributed through the whole
population, instead of being congregated at one spot, gives
them a great advantage in spreading not only the benefits of
their profession, but in diffusing the information which they
have acquired; and it is productive of equal advantage to all
other men, by exposing them to an.influence which, however
imnperfeet, must necessarily count for something in raising the
general standard of improvement.
It is easy to estimate the different degree of influence which
is exerted by the members of the legal profession in the United
States and Great Britain, when one considers that their location in the former is not a consequence merely of the confederate form of government, which would very naturally assemble
a certain number within each of the states. But their dispersion within these is as wide as it can well be conceived to be.
Lawyers are established at every county town or seat ofjustice,
frequently in several towns in the same county; and as the
counties are reduced greatly below the size of English counties,
they are much more extensively distributed than would be the
case in Great Britain, if English barristers were addicted to
the same custom. In the United States it is not at all uncommon to meet with lawyers in towns of three or four thousand
inhabitants, who are as profoundly conversant with their profession, and whose intellectual endowments are full as high




638             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
in every respect as can be found among the leading men of
the same profession in cities of three or four hundred thousand. It needs no argument to show the multiplied advantages which spring from this arrangement of society. A very
large proportion of the population are present from time to
time at the debates which take place in the halls of justice;
nor are the persons who make a figure in these removed to a
great distance during the rest of the year, so as to impress
other men with a notion that there is something so mysterious
and beyond their faculties to comprehend in the learned profession of the law, that they may not aspire to educate their
sons to the same pursuit.
But lawyers exercise a political as well as an intellectual
influence upon society. The acquaintance which they have
with the laws of their country is necessarily greater than that of
any other class; and this points them out as among the fittest
persons to be elected to the legislative body. But this affords
an additional reason why they should be distributed as equally
as possible among the rest of the population. By mixing
much with all other classes, they acquire a knowledge of their
habits, an insight into their interests, and a degree of tact in
both, which could be gained in no other way. I am not at all
insensible to the counter influence which is exerted upon their
character. Much of this is undoubtedly mischievous; but,
in the aggregate, the influence is of incalculable benefit to
society.
Where lawyers are congregated together at the capital city,
they soon acquire the "esprit du corps," which either unfits
them for political pursuits; or, if they do take part in them,
disposes them to be arbitrary in their conduct, and to deal
with public opinion as if it were governed by the rigid rules
of their profession. British lawyers when elected to parliament have almost always disappointed public estimation.
Brougham is the only remarkable exception to the contrary
of which I am aware. Even Erskine and Jeffrey appeared to
be out of their element in the house of commons, though it is
clear that they were equalled by a very few of those who were
conspicuous for their talents or influence. The reverse is the
case in the United States; eminent lawyers have always been
among the most distinguished members of congress. Such




CHAP. IV.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                639
men display no lack of ability from their first entrance into
the legislature. This only can be accounted for from  some
difference in their previous training; and I know of no other
difference but this; that the position which they occupy in
society necessarily forces upon them a very general acquaintance with the political history and interests of their country;
and that the discipline which their minds have received from
the abstract science of the law acting upon the body of information thas acquired, renders their views both more comprehensive and more practical than those of most other men.
I have mentioned the majority and minority in enumerating
the different classes of society. But these two grand divisions
of the community not only comprehend all inferior divisions,
but serve to regulate their conduct, and to bring the actions
of all into some sort of general agreement.




640             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
CH APTEI   V.
NOTICE OF TIHE FRENCH CONSTITUTION.
THE French "'charte" differs from the American constitution, fully as much in the source from which its authority is
derived as in the character of the government which it undertakes to establish. It was not the act of a popular convention.
An assembly of that kind has never been witnessed, except in
America. And yet the popular will in France did manifest
itself so far as to obtain some decided advantages on the side
of liberty. Magna charta was wrested from the English kings
by the barons alone. The chamber of deputies, which assisted
in procuring the French " charte," was elected by eighty-seven
thousand citizens. The provisions, therefore which are intended to guard the rights of the subject are altogether more
comprehensive and systematic in the last. The character of
a political constitution will then depend upon the degree of
elevation which the popular mind has attained. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the English commonalty had
acquired little or no weight; in France, at the present day,
the "' tiers etat " compose a body whose opinions and interests
every French statesman is compelled to consult; and, in America, the middle class has swallowed up all other distinctions
in the state. The constitutions of each of these three countries, at these various epochs, partake exactly of the character
of society in each. In England, civilization had made feeble
advances among any class at the date of the great charter; in
France, in 1830, it had made very considerable progress; in
the United States, it is more widely diffused than in any other
country.
A constitution of government which has been extorted from
a prince is an important event in the history of a nation. It




CHAP. V.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                641
indicates that very considerable changes are taking place, or
have already taken place, and it smoothes the way for more
important alterations in future. If power has a tendency to
increase, so also has liberty; and if the last can succeed in
advancing to a certain point, it is almost sure of making further conquests. Thus a charter of privileges constitutes a
vantage ground upon which to stand in defense of regular
government. It may be the work of a week, or a day, but
into that short interval an immense mass of experience and
wisdom may be crowded. As such an instrument will possess
an openly-recognized authority, it will be resolutely appealed
to by the oppressed. It has been wrested from the monarch
of right, and is, therefore, entitled to greater respect than the
power which it has displaced.
Public opinion in England had acquired so much authority
in 168S, that the revolution was a bloodless one. In France,
in 1830, the popular will had been so much strengthened by
the deliberate and repeated concessions made to liberty, that
it cost little more effort than in England to effect a revolution.
A constitution, therefore, however imperfect it may be as to
the source from which it emanates, or the provisions it contains, is a great step in the progress of government. It shows
that public opinion has acquired some appreciable weight, and
that it is in a fair way of becoming an important element in
the constitution of society. The way is prepared for the acquisition of liberty on a still wider scale,-the public mind
begins to be trained after a new fashion,-the thoughts of
men are occupied quite as much with the interesting  subject
of their own rights as with the prerogatives of the king and
nobility.  Thus, although the English nation made a very
feeble beginning, yet as they begun early, they have run
ahead of every o;her European state.
An unwritten, or partially written constitution, like the
English, may have this advantage. If the community is not
prepared for the thorough introduction of free institutions,
and is yet capable by single efforts, at different intervals, to
make considerable approaches in that direction, the form of
government may be made ultimately to reach a higher standard, and to acquire greater consistency, if for a time a wise
and prudent forbearance is observed as to some things. To
41




642             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
set forth "in extenso" the maxims of liberty, when popular
opinion was weak, would be to endanger the whole undertaking. It is because liberty and power have so seldom been
brought into direct conflict in Great Britain, that the former
has silently acquired so much influence.
On the other hand, it cannot be doubted, that the establishment of a form of government which is greatly in advance of
the manners, may be a powerful instrument in molding society, and lifting the people to a higher condition. A remarkable example of this is afforded in America, where the introduction of the most enlightened institutions and laws into the
western states, at the earliest possible stage, keeps the minds
of men in one track, and trains the whole population to the
same habits and manners as prevail among the oldest members of the confederacy. It is the most striking instance I
an aware of, of the immense control which the political institutions may be made to have upon the social organization.
France, like these new states, commenced the fabric of a
constitution amid the light of the nineteenth century, and
after a struggle the most trying and momentous which any
nation has undergone. It was not a time for sudden and
irregular leaps.  That day had passed by, the period had
arrived, when in order to bind together the confused elements
of society, an entire system of government must be adopted.
The sufferings endured by the whole population during the
revolution, were a necessary preparative to this end. Adversity, when it is not pushed to the extent of benumbing the
mind, has a wonderful effect in collecting and balancing it,
and the griefs and distresses which men of all classes had endured, brought about that degree of reflection which was
necessary to the establishment of regular government. As the
states general had been abolished nearly two centuries before,
there had been no opportunity for public opinion gradually to
mold the institutions into a conformity with the altered structure of society. For a legislative body not only performs-the
office of making laws, it fulfils another office of equal importance: it opens a communication between the government and
society at large, maintains an exact equilibrium between the
manners and the institutions, and carries both to a higher
pitch than could possibly be the case otherwise. The throne




CHAP. v.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                643
and nobility in France had domineered so long, and had acquired such formidable strength, that there was no way of
proving that they might be controlled, but by first breaking
them in pieces. On the opening of the states general in 1789,
powers the most discordant were, for the first time, placed
side by side of each other, without any fixed position in the
state, and therefore without any distinct recognition of their
authority, on the part of society. The "t' iers etat" had gathered strength and risen into influence, before any one was
aware of its existence; so that the whole kingdom was startled from a dream, when the Abbe Sieyes with a single dash
of the pen proclaiumed that a new power had risen up in the
state. This mixture of heterogeneous elements, this encounter of so many hostile interests and pretensions, necessarily
led to a bitter conflict: for where all was undefined, what
individual, or class, could have influence sufficient to impose
just and precise limitations upon the rights of all. No party
could do it, for parties neither understood themselves, nor
each other. They were placed in collision, by a train of unforeseen and uncontrollable events, and some equally imperious law of necessity must deliver them from their situation.
This collision was indispensable in order to inspire a knowledge of their relative rights, and wisdom sufficient to moderate their lofty pretensions. The struggle which took place,
disclosed clearly the existence of a great middle class in
France, and proved that this class must sooner or later, become a co-ordinate power in the state. The consulate and the
empire succeeded an anarchy of many years, as the protectorate of Cromwell, and the arbitrary government of Charles II,
succeeded to the English civil wars. The absolute rule which
was imposed in both instances, only suspended for a while the
spirit of liberty. The military triumphs cf Bonaparte, and
Cromwell, and even the careless gaiety of Charles's court, relieved the minds of men from the tormenting anxieties which
had harassed them, and gave rise to a species of good feeling,
before there was any union of interests. This second stage
of the revolution in France, contributed to balance the understandings of men; for it not only showed them the peril of
both extremes into which they had run, but it closed a period
of considerable duration, and one eminently fraught with




644             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOO1K IV.
matter of reflection for all classes. Certain it is, that the deplorable excesses into which [France had fallen, and the opposite calamity of absolute government, prepared the way for
the establishment of regulated liberty, whenever the opportunity should present itself.
In 1799, the Abbe Sieyes drew up the plan of a constitution; but it failed, because it was neither accommodated to
the old nor to the new order of things. A grand elector as
chief magistrate, without any administrative functions; a legislative body without the power of debate; a conservative jury,
or censorial body, sovereign and irremovable, but endowed
with authority to depose all other officers, were things entirely
new in the history of society. The value of the experiment
consisted in its proving the worthlessness of mere theory, and
in disposing the minds of men to fall back upon some simpler
and more practicable scheme of government.
Two apparently opposite conditions are required in a political constitution, that it should give stability to the institutions, and yet render those institutions susceptible of further
improvement. No government can be permanently secured
against assault from without, unless it is capable of being
acted upon by the regular and gentle influence of public
opinion. Nor is it difficult to conciliate the two ends I have
pointed out, since government after all must rest upon opinion of some sort or other, and the wider its influence, the more
enlightened it becomes, the nearer is the approach which it
makes to what we denominate public opinion, and the greater
the strength which is imparted to the institutions. The tendency to improvement, is as much a principle of our nature
as is the attachment to law and order; and the existence of a
wise frame of government, like any other enlightened body of
ideas, suggests new hints and causes any imperfection to be
easily detected and remedied. If most constitutions have
failed in giving stability to the government, it is because they
have contained so little provision for giving activity to the
principle of improvement. That of Great Britain, notwithstanding its imperfectly-constituted house of commons, has
permitted very great freedom of opinion, and has consequentlyv contributed mightily to elevate the general standard of intelligence. The extension of the electoral franchise, therefore,




CHAP. V.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               645
in 1832, was effected without occasioning any shock to old
ideas, and with infinite advantage to the just authority of
government. The -wisest plan is always to place the institutions somewhat in advance of society; yet this is a plan from
which European statesmen generally recoil, as one fraught
with trouble and insecurity to the community. The general
population must not only attain a certain degree of intelligence; it must acquire a certain rank, a positive authority in
the state, before it is deemed prudent to accord any privileges
to it. Yet there is no truth more important and more obvious
at the present day, than that the political institutions are
among the chief instruments at our command, for raising the
general standard of the manners. To place government upon
a liberal foundation, to give to the great majority of adults
some stake in the hedge, is one way of impelling men to rise
above their mere animal wants, and of connecting them in
reality, and not merely in name, with the general weal. Arind
if the cultivation of the popular mind is a thing of so much
consequence, what can be better calculated to promote it, than
a system of institutions which act as a perpetual discipline,
and set every one a thinking, because their knowledge and
their interests are then so closely connected? The free institutions of the United States, so far from being based upon a
general system of education, preceded it by half a century in
the middle and southern states. Those institutions, for a long
time, atoned for the want of a system of popular instruction.
The plan of education is not now as complete in some of those
states, as it is in several of the European monarchies. The
idea seems first to have been suggested to the American mind,
that youth is not the only season for learning; that the whole
of life is a school, and that the information which men aquire,
the subjects of thought with which they become conversant
after they have attained to manhood, are a more severe exercise to the mind, than all that has been previously learned.
There is no maxim, therefore, more unsound and mischievous, than that which teaches that the institutions of a country
can never rise higher than the manners. If this maxim had
been acted upon in Great Britain and France, the inhabitants
of both would be in the same condition they were in, in the
first century.  Roman civilization and Roman institutions




646             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BooKi Iv.
were planted in both countries, when the people were in a halfsavage state, and gave the first start to Britons and Saxons,
to Gauls and to Franks.
In every civilized country, a large proportion of the laws is
in advance of the condition of the great bulk of the population. This is the case with the body of civil law, the code
which regulates private rights; nor can it well be otherwise;
for although this species of laws originates with those who
take the lead in public aflairs, it is difficult, as a general rule
to adapt them to that class only. For instance, those rules
which determine the title and transference of estates, have an
indiscriminate application to men who have small, as well as
to those who have large properties. But when we come to the
system of political law, the case may be widely different. The
reasons for holding to an equality of political rights may be
equally strong, but they are not near so apparent as those
which lead to an equality of private rights. Government, in
most communities, is regarded as something totally distinct
and apart from society; it is viewed as the guardian, not as
the representative, of the citizens. Hence a rigorous control
is exercised over political rights, at the very time that the
most just civil regulations are in force.
The accident of birth gives to one man the exclusive right
to govern. The same circumstance determines the constitution of one branch of the legislature; and the electoral franchise, and the qualifications for office are then easily disposed
of, by a power which is deemed to be beyond the interference
or comprehension of the people. Thus those institutions which
are capable of exercising the most powerful and durable influence upon society, are frequently found so be the least enlightened. Very much the same code of civil law which was framed
under the IRoman emperors exists in the democratic republic
of Louisiana. Such a code might well be administered under
a form of government purely monarchical, for the prince cares
little about the equality of men among themselves, provided
he is lifted immeasurably above them all. But in Louisiana,
as in Ohio and Kentucky, free institutions, as well as an enlightened code of jurisprudence, were introduced at an early
day, and the effect is seen in the thorough diffusion of civilization and the high standard of popular intelligence. The




CHAP. v.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               647
political laws, then, act more thoroughly upon the social organization than does a mere body of civil regulations, and the
reasons are stronger why they should always be considerably
in advance of the population.
The French constitution of 1799 annihilated the regal authority and the privileges of the aristocracy, and yet failed to
create a popular branch of the legislature. The electoral franchise was not employed to elect any of the public officers, but
simply to create a body from which the government might
select; and very soon after this grotesque form of a constitution was proclaimed, even that privilege was taken away.
If public opinion in some of the European states should
continue to gain strength, as it has done during the last half
century, it is not at all improbable that the office of king will
finally give way, and be superseded by systems of government
which will be both wiser and stronger, because they will enlist
the support of a so much larger portion of the population. I
can easily conceive that the day may come, and that it may
not be very distant, when the superior classes will feel it to be
their interest to co-operate with the rest of the citizens in the
most fundamental plans of reform. Every concession, which
those classes have hitherto made has been for the sake of securing peace and tranquillity to themselves; and this is a feeling
which increases in strength in proportion to the diffusion of popular intelligence. The king gets tired of wearing the crown,
when he must either consent to be a mere automaton, or to be
stretched upon a bed of thorns. The nobility become wearied
with a perpetual struggle for the maintenance of privileges
which have no longer any root in the interests or affections of
the people. The expression of an eminent English statesman,
recently, " we must work up our institutions after a more democratic model," if uttered in the house of commons a century
ago, would have been as startling asthe invocation of the " tiers
etat" by the Abbe Sieyes. Nevertheless, the sentiment, like
many others which are never uttered above a whisper by Englishmen, is full of meaning at the present day, and speaks in
a way not to be mistaken, to the personal interests as well as
to the intelligence of the higher ranks.
France has now a house of commons, as well as Great Brit
ain, and it is chiefly upon the influence which will be exercised




648             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
by it, that we must rely for any great advance in popular intelligence and liberty. As soon as government makes any
even tolerable provision for giving expression to the popular
will, all the artificial institutions begin to be in danger. Two
forces are then in existence, one of which is constantly tending to the acquisition of more authority, while the other is as
constantly declining in both power and influence.
The European governments will undoubtedly experience
immense difficulties in reconstructing society, and in consequence of not possessing one advantage which America has.
They are mostly consolidated states. The state governments
of the United States perform this admirable office; they serve,
if I may use the expression, as breakwaters against the authority of the central government, morseling the whole power
which is wielded by the community into smaller fragments,
and thus contributing essentially to the maintenance and
solidity of free institutions. In one respect, the condition of
France is better than most of the European communities, although incomparably inferior to that of the United States.
She has a regular system of departmental administration, in
which the people participate to a considerable extent, and by
which they have been disciplined to some knowledge of selfgovernment. The notion of a confederate government, which
was perpetually revolving in the minds of French statesmen
during the early part of the revolution, shows the value which
was set upon this species of government, as auxiliary to the
introduction of free institutions; but how to make the leap,
any maore than how to make the leap from two hundred thousand to six millions of electors, is the great, the tormenting
problem. The people may, in a general sense, be ever so well
prepared for representative government, that is, they may be
educated and informed, but if the entire authority of the state
is wielded by a single government, no matter whether it be
republican in form, the institutions will stand upon an insecure foundation.
The territorial division of France created at one period immense obstacles to the formation of regular government. The
feudal principalities which existed during the middle ages,
were the source of constant disorders, and their extinction
and reunion with the crown, were of the utmost importance




CHAP. v.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               649
to the prosperity of the nation. On the other hand, the municipal jurisdictions of departments, arrondissements, and
communes, which have superseded them, are of the greatest
advantage. They effect a distribution of power, and yet do
not disturb the action of the central government. This organization of the power of the state, has then a shade of resemblance to the division of America into states, counties, and
townships. Each department has an executive officer, or governor, termed the "prefect," and he is assisted by a council,
composed of from three to five members, who transact the details of business. In addition to this, there is a general council of the department, consisting of twenty-five members.
But the powers of this mimic legislature are exceedingly limited, when compared with those of the state legislatures of
America. It has this advantage over the other council: that
it is an elected body, and has the privilege of choosing its
president and secretary; whereas, the council of the prefect,
as well as the prefect himself, are appointed by the king.
The arrondissements, which are about the size of an American county, are also presided by an administrative officer.
Attached to each is a council, with powers resembling those
of county commissioners in the American states. And as the
general council of the department legislates concerning those
interests which are common to the arrondissements comprised
within it, the arrondissement, besides disposing of its own
local business, superintends the general interests of the cantons and communes.
The government of communes is not confined, as in Great
Britain, to city corporations, but is extended over the rural as
well as the town population. This is a fine arrangement;
each commune is a nucleus of civilization, a school in which,
as in the American townships, the people are gradually initiated into the practice of self-government. And this salutary influence, thus extended equally over the whole surface
of the state, may become an important means of elevating the
country as well as the town population. France has the skeleton of free institutions, and it remains for time to determine
whether it is possible to communicate an animating soul to
this skeleton. The officers of the communes, the mayor, and
council were never, properly speaking, a popular body until




650            NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK IV.
recently. During the reign of Louis XVI, government usurped the power of appointing them. Up to 1771 they were
elected; but the election was not placed upon the same liberal
footing as at present. The number of persons who now exercise the electoral franchise is not as large as in the incorporated towns of the United States, but it greatly exceeds the
number of national electors in France, and is larger than that
of any electoral body out of America. For, by a "comte
rendu," made by the minister of the interior in 1839, it appears that two millions eight hundred and eighty thousund
one hundred and thirty-one persons voted at the communal
elections; that is, more than fourteen times as many as the
national electors.
Great Britain contains no local jurisdictions at all resembling those of the French departments, arrondissements, and
communes. The islands of Jersey, Guernsey, and Man, with
their separate parliaments, are too inconsiderable and too
much detached from the body of the community to form exceptions to the remark.
A system of lesser governments, as I have had occasion repeatedly to remark, whether the government is a consolidated
or confederate one, is indispensable to the thorough and orderly management of the local interests. That no inconvenience is felt for the want of them is no proof of their inutility.
Mankind have a wonderful ductility in adapting themselves to
circumstances. If a Frenchman had been aslied, in the reign
of Louis XIV, whether any inconvenience was experienced
for want of a national legislature, or of a regular system of
courts, he doubtless would have answered, no; that everything was in the hands of the grand monarch, who was competent to take charge of the most weighty and the most minute interests of society. The French departments are about
the size of Rhode Island and Delaware; they are eighty-six
in number, a territorial division which seems to have existed
at a very early period. For, in the ninth century, France had
eighty-six districts. Similar institutions have existed at one
time or another in every state; but they have not answered
the same end in all countries. In some they have been made
completely subservient to the centralization of power, while
in others they enjoy a sort of independent authority and con



CHAP. V.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               651
tribute to distribute power. If the departments were fewer
and their privileges more extensive, while at the same time
the arrondissements and communes were retained as a part of
the system, a plan of local administration would be introduced, which could not fail to be advantageous. The very
general taste which prevails in England for a country life, the
residence of so large a number of intelligent and influential
proprietors upon their estates during a considerable part of
the year, compensates in a small degree for the absence of
local governments. But the effect is incomplete so long as
the institutions contain no provision for training the popular
mind to habits of self-government.
The French revolution, which threatened to destroy everything, terminated in reforming everything. No man assuredly
would have made such a revolution with the uncertain chance
of procuring a better state of things. But the laws which
rule over human affairs are frequently placed beyond the
reach or even comprehension of individuals, and when lawgivers and statesmen cease to govern wisely and beneficently,
a superior power interposes, and overrules all the plans and
enterprises of the enlightened as well as the ignorant.
Among the great benefits which the revolution has conferred upon France, we may enumerate the following: It has
caused the abolition of feudal services and feudal tribunals, as
well as the.antiquated system of corporate bodies. It has
elevated the condition of the communes, and other municipal
bodies. It has given birth to a representative assembly, reorganized the judicial system, abolished the privileges of the
clergy and noblity; diminished the personal authority of the
king, separated the regal from the executive authority, diffused education, established the freedom of the press, suppressed entails and primogeniture, introduced trial by jury in
criminal cases, and caused such trials to be conducted in public. It has armed the tribunal of public opinion with ten fold
authority, augmented the numbers and power of the middle
class, given rise to a better organization of the departmental
authorities, compelled the abolition of the conscription, and
gradually inclined the minds of men to the quiet pursuits of
peace. It has been the means of introducing a system of order and accountability, into the administration of the finances,




652             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BooK IV.
renderd the debates of the peers and deputies public, abolished the hereditary quality of the peerage, provided a regular and legal mode of punishing all public officers, supplanted
the uncouth and heterogeneous laws and customs which existed in the provinces, by an uniform and enlightened code of
jurisprudence. It has, consequently, given rise to habits of
reflection, and imparted to all classes a more independent tone
of thinking and speaking; and for the first time, introduced
a written constitution into an European community.
These constitute material and radical changes in the framework of society; and yet, it seems as if nothing were done, so
much remains to be accomplished. A nation in this respect,
is like an individual. Every step in advance, which the latter
makes, enlarges the circle of his horizon, and the progress
which a people have made in reforming its condition, unfolds
new wants, and makes all deficiencies more striking and palpable. But the more unsatisfied it is with the position it has
already attained, the greater the hope for the future. When
M. Guizot, one of the finest minds France has produced, made
to the chamber of deputies the following declaration, certainly
the most remarkable which has yet fallen from any European
statesman, that "it was impossible not to recognize in American society, and by consequence in its influence, principles of
justice, of humanity, of regard for the well being of man, which
have been wanting in the greater part of the communities
which have been great and powerful in the world," he pronounced a sentiment which has relation to America, but which
was listened to with profound emotion in France, and over all
Europe. That a statesman high in authority in a monarchical
government, should give utterance to such an opinion, is a sure
indication that the human mind is not standing still in the
old world; it reveals to us, that thoughts are perpetually crossing the minds of the most elevated men in that quarter, which
look to something not merely as better, but as practicable.
The course of events, with its irresistible current, is bearing
forward all opinions, and conquering minds which seemed
least disposed to submit to its influence. In former times, it
was no part of the business of an European statesman to concern himself with the schemes for the improvement of society.
Their interests seemed to lead in a totally different direction.




CHAP. V.]        OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               653
The ignorance and helplessness of the great mass of the population rendered the influence of public men more conspicnous,
and they felt no desire to part with an advantage which was
so cheaply and so easily secured. Lord Brougham, when in the
English house of commons, was the first European statesman
who devoted himself systematically and earnestly to the improvement of the condition of the people. Mr. Burke prided himself
chiefly for his exertions on East India affairs; but Lord Brougham, with a mind equally comprehensive, will go down to posterity with " the plan for the education of England " in his hand.
The superior social organization of the British community
above that of France has been sometimes ascribed to an inherent difference of character. But what is meant by an original
difference of character? It is easy to understand its meaning
when the comparison is between two races, between the white
and the Ethiopian, or the white and the mongolian. But when
the race is the same, there must be some other way of accounting for the difference. The minds of men are formed to so
great an extent by outward circumstances, that the greatest
diversities of character may very well grow up among the same
race. Some nations, like some individuals, are not masters of
those circumstances at as early a period as others. But as
soon as they are, many hidden qualities begin to develop themselves. Emigrants from among the peasantry and artizans of
continental Europe are continually arriving in the United
States. They have none of the quickness and ductility of
mind which belong to the American character. But their descendants, after a few generations, cannot be distinguished
from  the original population.  They are trained in a new
school, and are subjected to the influence of a new set of
moral causes. The descendents of the English and Dutch in
New York, of the Swedes and Fins in Delaware, of the English and French in South Carolina, are all pretty much the
same sort of people, about equally distinguished for sagacity,
industry, and intelligence; —a memorable fact, and which
should teach all European statesmen that the only effectual
way of elevating the condition of the people, is 1" to work up
their institutions after a more democratic model."
The freedom of the press, the establishment of the representative assembly, the creation of even two hundred thousand




654             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
electors, and the abolition of a hereditary nobility, are immense achievements for civil liberty in France. The foundation is at any rate laid, upon which to build all sorts of liberal
institutions. A very considerable share of the political power
is now deposited with the middle class; and it is easy to foresee, that this class, in spite of the subdivision of the soil, will
increase and acquire still greater importance. It is the first
time in the history of France that any regular scheme of government, any scheme which combines liberty and power in
something like due proportion, has been established; thereby
affording unequivocal evidence that great changes have been
wrought in the structure of society since the revolution.
In all human probability the electoral franchise will be further extended; for although two hundred thousand electors
are a great boon-to a country which but the other day was a
military despotism, yet this number is grossly disproportioned
to the substantial population. No one is entitled to vote unless he pays a tax of three hundred francs. If the qualification were lowered and the electors raised to a million, there is
no reason to believe that "France would be blotted out of the
map of Europe." On the contrary, there is every reason to
believe that she would for the first time find her true position
among the nations of the earth. Great Britain and Ireland,
with a population of less by six millions, have as many as
eight hundred thousand electors. France commenced with
fifty thousand. The number was enlarged to one hundred
thouisand, then to one hundred and fifty thousand, and finally
to theqpresent amount. Experience has shown that the surest
guarantee of public order is to be found in the co-operation
and influence of the substantial population; and that the moment a government divorces itself from all care for the interests of the people, it legalizes within its own bosom a power
which will allow it no rest.
The plan of indirect suffrage, or of choosing by a boly intermediate between the primary electors and the candidate for
office, has been repeatedly tried in France, but was finally
abandoned in 1817. The principal objection to it is that it
reduces the number of the last electors to so inconsiderable a
number as to render them a close body, instead of a popular
assemblage.  Hence they were denominated."electoral col



CHAP. V.         OF FREE INSTITUTIONiS.              655
leges," an appellation which grates harshly upon an American
ear. An electoral body chosen directly by the people may be
fit enough to make a single appointment,-for public opinion
will then be sure to influence the determination of the body;
but an electoral cqllege removed by one or more gradations
from the people, invariably degenerates into a mere clique, or
school of intrigue. The effect is to annul the control of the
popular will, and to render the chamber of representatives as
irresponsible as the electors.
But the most extraordinary part of the plan was, that the
colleges were chosen for life, that the king nominated an officer to preside over them, and that their proceedings were conducted in secret. Vain effort to reconcile the worn-out idea of
a by-gone age with the institutions which belong to an improving society. There is but one way, in the nineteenth century
of cueing the dissensions of a civilized state, and communicating order, regularity and strength to the government, and that
is by giving to the people a direct and palpable interest in their
institutions.
France with two hundred thousand electors, has made a
much nearer approach to constitutional government than
when the primary electors amounted to two or three millions,
but the actual choice was made by a few close bodies, collected
in different parts of the kingdom. All sorts of contrivances
have been fallen upon for the purpose of endowing government with a certain amount of strength, and of conciliating,
at the same time, the popular will. But statesmen everywhere
will be compelled to have recourse to the very simple plan of
founding government plainly and directly upon the interests
of the people.
In the Roman commonwealth the plan of arranging men
into classes, according to their various professions and trades,
was at one time industriously pursued. The comitia of the
centuries, the then legislative body, was organized in this
manner. But to marshal the various orders of men into distinct classes, and yet to make sure that one or two of these
classes should decide the vote, was the very way to prevent a
reconciliation of the interests of all. This assembly was, accordingly, superseded by another legislative body, the coinitia
of the tribes, in which the members voted " per capita." This




656             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
is the true way of preventing classes from being arrayed
againt each other, and of giving unity and vigor to the public will. Nothing is more common in America than to find
individuals of the same class or occupation enrolled in different parties. Our opinions, when they are free to express
themselves, do not depend upon the callings wve pursue, but
are modified by numberless other causes. But the moment
we draw men up in classes, and make this arrangement a
fixed political institution in the state, we diminish the chance
of uniting the interests of all. The "; esprit du corps" starts
up, and disposes the members of different classes to look
upon each other with a hostile eye. The Roman and the
French commonwealths were never so prosperous as after
all circumnlocution in the mode of voting was abolished.
The constitution of France, in its general outlines, is modeled after the British. The chief points of difference are —
that in France (by the law of 1831, now incorporated into the
" charte," as provided for by its sixty-eighth section), peers
can only be created for life, and no endowment of property
can be bestowed upon them. There is also, in the ordinary
acceptation of the word, no ecclesiastical establishment.
Religion may be said to be established by law, but no one
sect has a preference. The clergy of all denominations are
equally provided for by the government.  The life tenure
of the peerage, however, throws that body into a greater
dependence upon the king than is compatible with constitutional monarchy. The only remedy short of the abolition
of the order, is to cause those members who sit in the house
of lords to be elected by the general body of nobility, instead
of being placed there by the king. There is much more reason
for adopting this plan in France than in Scotland and Ireland. The French nobility are exceedingly numerous, amounting to several thousands, while the nobility of Scotland and
Ireland are a very small body each. Moreover, the institution would more quietly and gradually give way to a different
and better organization of the upper house. The tenure
for life is one step toward this end. But without the intermediate preparation I have indicated, the transition from
a privileged body to a senatorial assembly would be more
abrupt and violent than would be desirable.




CHAP. V. ]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               657
It has been supposed, that the minute division of the soil in
France, was unfavorable to the formation of a middle class.
That such a class does exist, however, is certain, from the
fact that there are two hundred thousand persons, the least
wealthy of whom can afford to pay a tax of three hundred
francs. These two hundred thousand persons, with their families, will give nearly a million of individuals. There are
not many countries in Europe, where so large a proportion
of the population is placed in more independent circumstances. Something more, besides primogeniture and entails, is
requisite to prevent the creation of small properties.  In
Italy, where the eldest son succeeds to the estate, the
division of the soil is carried further than in France, yet
it is surprising how large a number of proprietors in the
former, can afford to lease their land even upon the metayer
system of cultivation, and at the same time live comfortably
upon their proportion of the produce. The number of idle
persons is larger in Italy than in France. The younger sons
are disinherited, feel little or no incentive to exertion, and
live as they can, upon the pittance doled out to them by the
eldest brother.  Land in Italy, and a great part of France,
can bear to be divided into smaller estates, than in northern
and central Europe, because the productions of the soil are
monopoly ones, and therefore give monopoly prices. Certain
it is, however, that the abolition of primogeniture and entails
in France, by placing men more on an equality, has driven
them to greater self-exertion. Large properties give rise to a
larger surplus, but for the same reason, they create a host of
laborers, both in the town and country. If there is no class
in France so rich as the country gentlemen of England, there
is none so poor as the manufacturing population of the latter
country. The views with regard to both countries, have been
doubtless exaggerated. The subdivision of the soil in France
is not so general as is represented, nor are large properties in
England so universal as is sometimes supposed. A large proportion of the land which belonged to the French "noblesse,"
before the revolution, has got back into their hands, and very
extensive farms are common, throughout the nortnern part of
the kingdom. The majority of the French population live in
the country, the majority of the English inhabit the towns.
42




658             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [ BOOK IV.
The employments of the people, and the means of subsistence which they derive from these employments may, after
all, be as much divided in the one country as in the other
The location only of the poorer class in each may be different. In France, this class will be found principally in the
country; in England, it is congregated in the towns.
Up to the time of the revolution, it was the king and
nobility who wnere set over against each other, for the purpose
of maintaining the equilibrium of the government. Now, it
is the "'tiers etat" and the king. The middle class have
figured greatly in all the revolutions which have occurred
since the reign of blood. It was that class which was chiefly
instrumental in closing the period of anarchy. It was the
same class which ruled during the memorable three days of
1830, and succeeded in establishing constitutional monarchy. The "charte" of Louis XVIII, was an act of mere
grace; that of the present king was fairly extorted by public
opinion. Indeed, when one considers that all the revolutions
in Europe, in Germany, and Italy, as well as in France, have
been accomplished chiefly by that class, it is evident that
very important changes have taken place in the structure
of society; that there is, in other words, a very general tendency toward depositing some part of the active power of
society in an entirely new quarter. When this state of things
has lasted long enough to exert a positive influence upon the
manners, and to persuade all public men that in order to
govern securely, as well as wisely, it is not enough to defer
in some small degree to public opinion, but that it is necessary to enlist its active co-operation in the administration
of the government, the difficulties which have hitherto obstructed the progress of enlightened institutions, will be in
a fair way of being overcome. For admitting, that it should
never be possible to carry out the plan of the American government in its full extent, so as to make the public will, in its
genuine signification, the moving spring of government, yet
unspeakable advantage will be procured to all orders of men,
by communicating to the middle class a political weight,
corresponding with the rank which it has attained in society.
The unbalanced governments stand in need of some such
support, of some mediatorial power, which, standing between




CHAP. v. ]         F FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 659
the two extremes, the highest and the lowest classes, shall control the excesses of the last, and make it the interest of the
first to be just to all parts of society.




660             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOKI IV.
CHAPTER  VI.
IS THE AMERICAN GOVERNMENT A BALANCED ONE?
IF by a balanced constitution we intend one in which the
principal checks to power reside within the government, the
American government is not a balanced one. The materials
are happily wanting, with which to construct a political system of that character. There is no order of nobility, no hereditary prince, no ecclesiastical establishment. These are necessary elements in the composition of what is ordinarily understood by a balanced government. There is no commonalty as
distinct from the rest of the population. The people are not
divided into active and passive citizens: the electoral franchise
is enjoyed by all, and the government is thoroughly elective
in all its braches. The political institutions, though destined
to perform different functions, have one character, and conspire to one common end. As they are not the accidental
growth of circumstances, but have been formed with design,
the power which created them continues afterward to uphold
them, and to regulate their movements. So that the American
government, although not a balanced one in the European acceptation of the term, is so in a still higher sense. None of
the departments possess a self-existing authority, none exercise
an independent will of their own: for they are all controlled
by a great outward force which resides in the community.
Political checks are of two kinds: those which exist in the
society, but are exterior to the government, and those which
are inserted in the government, and which for the most part,
compose that organized body which we denominate the political system. The first is of two kinds: it may consist either in
that omnipresent control which the public reason, or public
opinion exercises, or in the more delicate and complicated
control which several governments, united together in a common league, exert upon each other, and upon the central




CHIP. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               661
authority. The second class of checks is also twofold; they
are either such as exist by virtue of a self-derived and independent authority, possessed by some, or all the departments
of the government, or such as are created by the deliberate act
of the community. The two classes may be characterized, the
first as perfect, and the second as imperfect checks; the reason
of which will readily appear. The first represents the moral
force of an entire community, the second represents the isolated strength of the bodies themselves. If the last do more
than this, it is because in the societies where they exist the
first species of checks acts with more or less force. This is a
distinction of the utmost importance: the not making it, is a
source of the greatest error and confusion. For instance, if on
surveying the structure of the English government, in which
two of the departments exist, by a self-derived authority, we
were to assert, that the happy balance of the constitution was
attributable to that circumstance, we should commit a fatal
mistake. The balance of the constitution, the adjustment of
the various departments to each other, is in spite of, not in
consequence of, the self-existing authority, which those departments possess. The public will, or public opinion, is more
potent and more pervading, than in any other government,
ancient or modern, except the United States. That this affords
the explanation, is obvious, as I have observed in preceding
chapters: for until public opinion had grown to be a great
power in the state, England was no better, and often not as
well governed as many of the continental states at the present
day. And the adjustment of the political departments, in
other words, the balance of the constitution has kept pace
exactly with the growth of that public opinion.
I have considered the second class of checks as of two kinds:
those which possess an authority independent of the community, and those which are created by the community. An
hereditary monarch and hereditary nobility are examples of
the first, and the various departments of political power in a
representative government, of the second. I have characterized both as checks of an imperfect kind, but for different
reasons. The first act from an impulse within; if they borrow
any authority from abroad, it is accidental, and is no part of
their original constitution. The second, being created by the




662              NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
community, do, on that very account, possess, and possess
designedly, a still larger share of this borrowed authority. It
is only because it is borrowed, that is, derived from the power
which creates the first class of checks, that it is not of so high
a character as these; it is the same in kind, but inferior in
degree. The question, which is the best of these subordinate
checks, may be viewed in two lights. Each may be best
under certain conditions; that is, best relatively. But to the
question, which is the best absolutely, that is, of two societies,
each of which possesses the system of interior checks, appropriate to it; which will be best governed? the answer must be
the last. In other words, the states of continental Europe,
from Naples and Portugal to the Baltic, have not been as well
governed as the United States. And although we should endeavor to escape from this way of viewing the question, by
saying that those states have a very imperfect social organization, and that the social is the parent of the political
organization; yet this would be reasoning in a circle, and
contributes to fortify the position that I have taken. The
checks which exist in those governments are comparatively
feeble, because there are inherent causes which prevent them
from being otherwise.
Where the check consists in the exercise of a power independent of the society, it may be viewed in two lights. It will
represent the body in which it resides; or it may represent the
body, and together with it, a portion of society, more or less
considerable, which do not belong to it, but whose interests
are similar. The last species of representation, however, will
be merely virtual. France, with the exception of the interval
between 1815 and 1848, Poland and Hungary, all the Italian
and German kingdoms, etc., are examples of the first. Great
Britain is the only fair example of the second. One, and a
very important cause of this difference, is to be traced to the
small body of nobility in the last, and its disproportionate size
in the former. In Great Britain, the number is about four
hundred and fifty; in France, Poland and Hungary, it was
from two hundred thousand to half a million. In these three
states, the nobility had not only exclusive titles, but they had
exclusive privileges also. Their interests, therefore, were set
in direct contradiction to the rest of society. In Great Britain,




CHAP. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                663
the privileges of the body are few and inconsiderable. The
nobility there represent, not only their own order, but they
represent virtually the whole body of gentry and landed proprietors. They do not represent the entire landed interest;
not the numerous class of farmers, for instance, because the
interests of the two are not the same. At the present day, the
English nobility may be said also to represent virtually, and
to some extent, the manufacturing and mercantile classes.
Trade and industry, which for the first time became popular
after the establishment of the commonwealth, has now become
fashionable; and the fortunes of numbers of the nobility are
now embarked, directly or indirectly, ill manufactures uand
commerce.
WVhen two or more bodies with rival interests are placed in
opposition to each other, the design is to prevent each from
pursuing a separate interest of its own. It is intended that
they shall mutually control one another. The course which
they will actually pursue under these circumstances, says an
eminent writer (Brougham), will be a mean between the extreme wishes of each. It will be a diagonal, and not in the
direction of one side of a paralellogram. The illustration is a
happy one, and is a conclusive answer to the theory of Jeremy
Bentham, that all checks are ineffectual. But why will this
be the result of so disposing different bodies. It must either
be from a calculation of the ability of each to resist an encroachment on its rights, or from a calculation of the superior
ability of that power which exists out of the government, but
is ever ready to enter into it, when any derangement of the
system occurs. The last affords the clue to the efficacy of those
checks which are inserted in the government. For it is obvious
that it is impossible to construct two or more political departments, whose power shall be so skillfully proportioned, that
each shall be a counterpoise to the other, much less to two
others cormbined.  But if a powerful check exists outside of
the government, although it is habitually of a preventive
character, and only occasionally active, the knowledge that
it may be roused at any moment will discourage all attempts
of one department to invade the rights of the others. The
passage of the "reform act," in 1832, and the repeal of the
corn laws, about sixteen years later, are memorable examples




664            NATURE AND TENDENCY              [ BOOK IV.
of this. These are the two most important acts which have
been passed by the British parliament within the last hundred
years. They both run counter to the opinions and prejudices
of the nobility, because they contributed to fortify the power
of the middle class. But public opinion run with so mighty a
current, the commonalty of England took so decided a stand,
that a refusal to concur in their passage would have endangered the existence of the body. Indeed, the reasonings of all
those who insist on the efficacy of the system of interior checks,
imply the exercise of a check beyond and above these. But
not one has noticed it as a distinct fact; all consider the last as
merely subservient to the checks within the government, instead of as a distinct and independent counterpoise, differing
both in kind and degree from every other species of checks.
In a half civilized, or in a civilized, but unsettled state of
society, the knowledge which individuals have, that each
stands ready to protect himself, does not prevent insults and
perpetual combats. But when society has so far advanced that
a well-defined public opinion has grown up, such occurrences
fall wonderfully into disuse, although the motives anti occasions
for them are greatly multiplied. It is precisely the same with
rival bodies of men. As society advances, public offices become more lucrative and dazzling, the incentives to ambition
are hightened, and the desire of encroachment is greater; but
this very advancement gives birth to a public opinion, whose
circumference is constantly enlarging, and which exerts a more
and more searching influence in every part of society. There
is no other way in which we can account for the irregular action
of the same checks, at different periods in the history of the
same government; how it is, that at one time they exert little
or no influence, at another have even a pernicious tendency,
and at a third, act with precision and efficacy. What we are
accustomed to call a healthful operation of these checks, is
nothing more or less than the omnipresent control of a power
which is external to the political departments, and which, for
that very reason, is better able to control their movements.
In order to illustrate the different structure of the American
and European governments, we will suppose two associations
of individuals, each composed of one thousand persons. In
one, the members are for the most part in good circumstances,




CHAP. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                665
possess a competent share of intelligence, and elect their own
officers. In the other, a large proportion of the members are
in an exceedingly dependent condition, enjoy none of the advantages of education, and are unable to form to themselves
a true notion of the qualities which make up the character of
a citizen. In this society, the principal officers perpetuate
themselves in office, and have power to appoint such other
subordinate ones as they please. The machinery by which
the business of these little societies is transacted may be the
same: that is, the various functions and duties which the officers of both perform may be nearly alike; yet it is obvious that
there will be the greatest difference imaginable in the amount
of personal influence and positive authority, which will be exercised in the two cases. In one, the officers will govern the
members; in the other, the association will govern itself.
This original difference in the constitution of the two societies
will give a totally opposite direction to their future destiny.'The various officers in each, may occupy the same relative position to each other; but they will stand in very different relations to the members. In one, the introduction of a thorough
system of responsibility will prevent encroachments upon the
rights of the members; in the other, the officers will continue
to check and balance each other's authority; but they will be
uncontrolled by any force of sufficient authority to prevent a
combination against the interests of the society.
What is true within so limited a sphere, is still more true
when we come to consider the large scale on which civil government is constructed. There are then such an infinity of
objects to manage, the interests of society become so numerous and complicated, that the machinery by which public
affairs are set in motion, may be easily concealed from those
who are most deeply concerned in understanding all about
them.
Free institutions afford to the mind the very assistance
which is desirable; they facilitate the process of analysis
which it is so necessary to employ, in order to have any tolerable insight into what are usually termed state matters. The
exercise which the mere enjoyment of the electoral franchise
gives to the mind, produces that effect. Few are so little inquisitive, or so much absorbed in the cares of life, as not to




666             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [Boo1( IV.
be led to form their own notions of the character of public
men, of the general tenor of public measures, and thence by
an easy step, to gain some acquaintance with the practical
working of the government.
The great objection to the plan of checking one part of the
government by another, is, that it is impossible to give to the
various departments sufficient power to produce this effect,
without endowing them with so much as to enable them to
rule over society, instead of society ruling over them. And
although one may figure to himself the greatest licentiousness
as the consequence of the opposite plan, yet this licentiousness, I imagine, will generally be found to proceed from some
defect in the character and manners of the superior classes,
rather than from any natural proneness to insubordination on
the part of the people. If we could suppose the numerous
body of the French noblesse, in the reign of Louis XVI, to
have consented to alter their character so far, as to view with
unmingled satisfaction the prospect of establishing a constitutional government; if we could suppose them to have lent
themselves sincerely and unreservedly to the plans of the enlightened leaders of the 1"tiers etat," the revolution would
have been unnecessary. Now I do not blame men for having
modes of thinking, and habits of acting conformable to the
system in which they and their ancestors had been nurtured.
I only speak of the fact, the ease with which unheard-of calamities may have been warded off, and the blessings of civil liberty secured, if the influential and the high in rank had voluntarily consented to lay aside those hateful privileges which
they now do so well without, and which few of them would
recall, if they were able. The same may be said of England
in the time of Charles I. And we may go further, and say,
that if the nobility and gentry of that country, in spite of the
habits in which they have been bred, could be supposed to
take the same natural view of the office of civil government
which is entertained in America; if we could only suppose them
to lay aside the antiquated notion that the populace can only be
ruled by a strong government, and that there can be no strong
government without a prince and nobility, the transition from
hereditary to elective government might be made without occasioning any shock to society. And if this view be correct,




CHAP. VI.  OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                    667
the consequences to which it leads are of the utmost importance to all governments. It shows that the introduction of
enlightened liberty is unembarrassed by those extreme difficulties with which it has hitherto been surrounded. The proposition is not an abstract one; that if a thing is willed to be
done, it will surely be done; for of all things, nothing is more
dangerous than to meddle with abstract propositions, when we
have to deal with the actual affairs of men.  But the proposition is, that if a thing is willed to be done, and if that thing is
nothing more than a scheme of civil polity such as has existed quietly and securely for a great number of years in one
community; and if the best faculties and the sincere desires
of the influential are made to co-operate with the will to do,
that the thing will not come to pass, but that it will work so
far beyond expectation, that all men will wonder why it should
have been postponed to so late a period. And if this reasoning is correct, several very important conclusions would seem
to flow from it; that there is no community whatever, provided only it be entitled to the appellation of civilized, which
will not admit of the infusion of a much larger amount of liberty than was supposed practicable; that there is no necessity
why the transition from monarchy or aristocracy to elective
government should be violent and abrupt; and that invariably, it is fully as much in consequence of the want of intelligence among the superior classes, as of ignorance among
the lower, that the most important reforms of government,
are ever postponed to a day when there seems to be no other
alternative. I have in another place spoken of the great benefit which is procured to the cause of regular government, by
delaying the steps by which it is finally achieved; the advantages which are thus gained are unobserved and occasion no
alarm, while they add to the ability to obtain still greater.
But this is only upon the supposition that to any plan of reform which was at once thorough, comprehensive, and effective,
we should be unable to gain the influence and co-operation of
the great body of intelligent men in the country. On the same
principle, in other words, that if any one had risen up in the
reign of Elizabeth, or so late as the time of George I, and
proposed the formation of religious, benevolent, and educational institutions, like those now existing in Great Britian,




668            NAVTURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK IV.
the plan would have been derided as chimerical, and as fraught
with little or no value. Yet it is most certain that the spread
of these associations at the present day marks one of the most
memorable eras in the history of the human race. They may
more than anything else contribute to falsify the notion so
generally prevalent, that there is a point to which the civilization and prosperity of a nation may rise, after which it is
necessarily doomed to decline. So that in speaking of things
which are impracticable, we must distinguish between those
which are rendered so in consequence of some imperious law
of our nature which cannot be gotten rid of, and those which
would be practicable if men would only consent to make an
active use of the faculties with which they are actually endowed.
Thus, if the great body of intelligent men in Great Britain,
on surveying the manifold abuses which exist in every part of
the government (abuses which they never deny, except when
challenged to admit them), an ecclesiastical establishment
which wrings a princely support to itself from all other sects,
a national debt which can never be redeemed, a prince whose
vast and unnatural prerogatives conciliate public approbation
either in consequence of their antiquity, or of the seductive
patronage which enlists a great multitude of the influential in
their support, a nobility, a handful of well-educated gentlemen, yet possessing an absolute veto upon the representatives
of the people; a chamber of representatives a majority of whose
members are elected by less than one-half of the electors; the
electors themselves with qualifications unnecessarily restricted;
a judicial establishment so expensive and so inadequate to the
wants of the community, as to shut out men of moderate property, or to beggar them if they enter the halls of justice: I
say, if on contemplating these things, and a great multitude
of others which indirectly grow out of the system (and to detail which would be to run over innumerable transactions of
public and private life), the enlightened men of all England
were with one accord to devote themselves to the establishment of free institutions, there would not be as much difficulty
as in bringing about the revolution of 1689. The difficulty
would be overcome by the simple act of making such a resolution. When we talk of the shock given to society in conse



CHAP. VI.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               669
quence of any material change of the government, we mean
the shock occasioned to the superior classes only. The placing king, lords, and commons in the constitution for the purpose of balancing each other, was never attended with the
desired effect until very modern times. But for another circumstance they may have continued to stand side by side of
each other as in the reigns of the Henrys and Stuarts, each
struggling for the mastery, and filling all England with disorder and misrule. It is the influence of the popular will which
now maintains them within their proper spheres.
It may, indeed, be laid down as a maxim of universal application, that the system of interior checks can never be relied
upon where there exists no power external to the government,
to act upon all the departments, and to maintain each in its
proper place. And this necessary condition can only be attained where free institutions are established; not merely because these presuppose the existence of a power without, which
has authority to command, but because the parts of which government is then composed have so much simplicity, and such
an intimate connection with the community without, that the
influence of public opinion is both easy and certain in its operation. As government is then framed with design and deliberation, the share of authority allotted to the various departments will be adapted to the functions which they are intended
to perform, and these will have a precise and immediate relation to the interests of the community. Government after it is
built up will not be left to the scramble of ambitious men; for
the power which created it will be in constant activity, and
will continue to preside over each act of the public administration. Encroachments by the executive upon the legislature, or by the legislature upon the executive, will no longer
be viewed as an affair in which public officers are concerned;
they will be regarded as invasions of the rights of the whole
body of society. In the artificial forms of government, the
several departments of power represent distinct and contradictory interests in the state, and not the state itself. And
the idea of balancing the authority of one by that of the others, is the necessary consequence of a society so organized.
Not that in that form of government there are not as strong
and even stronger reasons for checking them all by some other




670              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
influence. But no such influence can grow to maturity where
the original constitution of the departments is such as to endow them with a self-existing authority.
If the inquiryis made, in what way the controlling power
out of the government is made to operate in America, the answer is, that, in framing the institutions, precautions are in
the first instance taken to prevent any of the departments
from obtaining an undue ascendency. The powers of all are
materially abridged. Instead of a chief magistrate clothed
with immense prerogatives, and an order of nobility possessing exclusive privileges, the executive is chosen for a
short term, and is intrusted with a very moderate authority.
Instead of a chamber composed of hereditary nobles, both
branches of the legislature are elected, —although the principle on which the choice is made is not the same in both, All
the public agents are thus made directly responsible to the
people. Not only is the power which is conferred upon the
government less, but the means of controlling it are greatly
increased. Instead of one department being accountable to
another, they are all rendered accountable to the community; and although this might seem to lead to licentiousness,
and to give rise to the most unbalanced government imaginable, yet in practice it is found that the greater the number of
persons who are interested in the exercise of political privileges, the greater is the number who prize the advantages of
regulated liberty and of public order, —that so far from the
laws being weak and inoperative, they command a ready and
almost universal obedience.
Nor is it difficult to explain the reason why this should be
so. If there were no self-interest, there could be no general
interest. But if we would, we could not contrive a society
better calculated to augment the number of persons who have
some private interest at stake, than one in which free institutions are established,-none in which so great a number of
persons are interested in the protection of property. But this
protection can no more be obtained for private than for public
rights, unless the authority of the law is supreme. This notion is forced upon the observation of every one; it is not left
to be worked out as a problem in ethics, by those who have
acquired a refined education. The right to property, as well




CHAP. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                671
as all other private rights, is from the earliest period of life
indissolubly connected with the maintenance of the laws.
Government, then, becomes a personification of the law, and
individuals no more think of rising up in rebellion against it,
than they do of adjuring any of the other obvious advantages
of life. Exceptions there will necessarily be, but it is with
general and permanent results that we have to deal; and it
would seem to be almost a self-evident proposition that the
greater the number of individuals who hasve interests to be
protected, and whose situation and habits enable them to appreciate the connection between those interests and the authority of the government, the greater will that authority be.
Foreigners, on arriving in the United States, are frequently
surprised to witness the even tenor with which the administration of the law is conducted in the most remote parts of the
country. They learn that all the public officers are elected,
and yet they see these officers exercising an authority as complete as they had ever witnessed in Europe. Whether they
walk the streets of the largest cities, or penetrate into the interior, they find the same system  in operation,-the same
rigorous and impartial dispensation of justice; and after reflection they come to the natural conclusion, that if the people
voluntarily created the government, and passed the laws, they
must not only be interested in upholding them, but, more than
all other people in the world, they must be disposed to lend
an active assistance in their execution.
If then we desire to strengthen the arm of the civil magistrate, and to give to the government the greatest possible authority, what plan more likely to produce the effect than to
give force and importance to the popular will? For even if
the class of the disorderly increase, as society grows older,
the class of those who are interested in the maintenance of
public order will assuredly increase still more. In the large
cities of America, the police are invariably more strict, more
alert, more resolute in the performance of their duties, than
in the small towns or country districts.  The officers are
elected by the people; but this only adds to the weight of
their authority.
Thus the American government is, in the strictest sense, a
balanced one; but the principle on which this balance is ad



672            NATURE AND TENDENCY              LBOOK IV.
justed is different from what it is elsewhere. The political
departments are as numerous, and perform duties very similar
to those which are performed in other countries, but possessing no inherent and independent authority, the idea of balancing the one against the other would be futile, unless a new
motive power had been introduced-a power which, because it
resides without and not within the government, both controls
and strengthens the exercise of political power.
As public opinion is indispensable in order to give efficacy
to this great principle, the extent of that public opinion, the
number of people who contribute to form it, and who are
in turn themselves affected by it, is a matter of great consequence. In some countries, so limited is the range of intelligence and information, that both opinion of right and opinion
of interest help to fortify instead of controlling power. If, ill
a country of twenty or thirty millions of people, one or two
hundred thousand make up all the active citizens of the state,
this affords no proof that a much larger number are not entitled to be placed upon that footing; but it indicates how very
small is the force which is brought to bear upon the solid and
compact machinery of the government. It also indicates, that
the millions who are left out in the formation of public opinion, may be disposed at one time to combat on the side of
power, and at another, to run into the opposite extreme of
licentiousness.
There is no better way of arriving at a fair estimate of the
force and extent of public opinion, in any country, than by
ascertaining the number of public journals which are circulated in it. Even though the majority of these should not be
conducted with great genius and ability, it would afford no
objection to this view, but rather the reverse. It is a proof
that what is termed public opinion does not comprehend the
highly educated merely; but that it extends to a great number
of people in the descending ranks of society, who, although
they may not be gifted with learning, or eloquence, yet have
a very ready apprehension of those things which most deeply
affect their interests, and are capable of forming a very sensible estimate of the manner in which government is administered.
The number of newspapers and other journals published in




CHAP. VI.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                673
Great Britain and Ireland, is five hundred and fifty-five. On
the whole of continental Europe, it does not exceed twelve
hundred; while in the United States, they amount to nearly
two thousand. Doubtless they are cheaper in the last than in
any other country. Their cheapness brings them within the
reach of the great mass of the population: and they are cheap,
because it is more profitable to supply a large number of effective demanders, at a low price, than a small number at a high
one; and from this circumstance, a very important consequence follows; that a great proportion of those classes, who
in other countries are mute and inanimate spectators of public events, are raised to the condition of active and intelligent citizens. The circle of public opinion is wider, the principle of responsibility more stringent and efficacious, and the
influence which is brought to bear upon the government is increased tenfold. Government is intended to restrain society,
and yet society is intended to restrain the government, and
the first species of check is not lessened but is greatly increased by enlarging the basis of popular power.
The establishment of local governments in the United States
constitutes another class of checks very different from what
exists in any other country. In order that the popular will
may exercise an influence both salutary and effective, it is not
enough that power should be divided in the first instance between the people and the government; it is necessary that it
should be distributed among different jurisdictions. A consolidated government, although republican in its structure,
would be an object too large for ordinary apprehension, and
would be removed to too great a distance to be watched and
controlled by the people. The federal and state governments
act as checks upon each other. They exercise distinct powers; and so do the king and parliament; but, in the first case,
these powers are inclosed within different spheres, and do not
act in conjunction. The force of the check, therefore, does
not depend in any degree upon the interests or ambition of
those who hold office, but is exerted whether they will or no.
The two governments are not only confined to the management of different affairs, but are placed upon different theaters
and it may be supposed that on that account this form of
government does not very readily afford a notion of what is
43




674             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOIK IV.
understood by a system of checks; nor does it indeed in the
ordinary acceptation of the term. But it is for that very reason more deserving of attention. Those who wield the political authority of these different communities are not brought
into immediate contact, so that the will of one may directly
control that of the others. But it will be admitted, that if
the original constitution of lords and commons was such that
neither could well move out of the position assigned to it, the
check would be much more complete than it could otherwise
be. It would be so, because so much was made to depend
upon the structure of the institutions themselves, and so little
upon the personal views and ambition of individuals. A
check does not lose that character because it is more comprehensive in its operation, but is the more entitled to the appellation on that account. The constitution of king, lords, and
commons, approaches much more nearly the idea of a system
of checks and balances since the revolution, and the various
ordinances which followed it, than in the reign of Henry VIIT,
or Charles I. The same is true of France. The king, the
legislature, and the judiciary, since the constitutional "charte"
of 1830, are infinitely better restrained than in the reign of
Louis XIII; for so feeble was the control upon the royal
power, at this last period, that a single decree was enough to
abolish the legislative body.
The establishment of the local jurisdictions of America,
then, gives efficacy to the influence of public opinion. The
men of Ohio would have a world of business to attend to, if
they were called to watch the management of affairs in every
other part of the country. But it is no very difficult matter
for them to give an eye to everything which is transacted
within their own borders; nor for the men of the twenty-nine
other states to do the same. The confining the domestic interests of these communities within a comparatively narrow
sphere, not only renders those interests more readily appreciable, but it gives a fairer opportunity to become acquainted
with the working of the central government also, since its
powers are rendered both fewer and more simple than would
otherwise be the case. In other words, the force of public
opinion which is brought to bear upon the central government,




CHAP. vi.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              675
is increased in the same proportion as that which acts upon
the state governments.
Not only is this the case, but the authority which these
various governments exercise over the population is more full
and extensive also. If the influence of public opinion is
brought nearer to the government, and therefore falls upon it
with more weight, for the same reason the authority of government is brought nearer to every part of the population,
and therefore exerts a more constant and palpable influence
upon it. Thus the American government is truly a balanced
one; but the system is " sui generis."  The checks are not only
more numerous, more wide-spread than in any other colnmunity; the power out of the government is not only as great as
it can consistently be made, but it is so distributed as to create a countervailing power on the part of the government
which renders the institutions both freer and stronger.




676             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
CHAPTER  VII.
THE INFLUENCE OF AMERICA UPON EUROPE.
A TRAIN of accidental causes no doubt assisted in the establishment of free institutions in America. But now that
they have grown to maturity, their influence is in no way dependent upon circumstances. The thinly-peopled country of
which the first emigrants took possession, its seclusion from
the disturbing influence of foreign politics, presented the
golden opportunity. But when this novel experiment had
succeeded, its power of reacting upon other communities was,
like any other system of conduct, dependent upon the ordinary principles of human nature. The minds of men became
more interested in the inquiry, what these institutions gave
promise of, than how they came to be put together. It is like
the case of an individual in whom a happy train of incidents
has awakened great powers; once these are matured, his influence, whether for good or for evil, is independent of fortuitous circumstances.
The influence of one nation upon the manners and institutions of another, is no new fact in the history of society; but
the way in which this influence operates is different from
what it formerly was. Conquest, the incorporation of one
people into another, the exercise of authority in some form or
other, were the chief instruments in establishing this influence. America is the first instance in which the institutions
of one country have been permitted to spread their influence
abroad, without the intervention of any force-without even
the desire to employ any. It is consequently the first instance
in which a deep and general impression has been made upon
the manners and habits of thinking of other communities. In
order that one people should exert a decided influence of this
kind, there must be some point of approach, some easy way




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               677
of opening a communication between the two. The wide
commercial intercourse which subsists between the United
States and Europe, affords in part this necessary condition.
That species of communication is the most constant and the
most general which can well take place. It engages a greater
number of persons, and what is of more importance, it brings
the American people into a close correspondence with that
part of the European population, the middle class, upon whom
the strongest and the most lasting impression is likely to be
made. It is because the United States is almost exclusively
composed of this class, that its commerce has attained such
an unexampled growth. The country presents a greater num ~
ber of effectual demanders for commodities than any other.
But, commerce cannot well advance the prosperity and social
condition of one nation, without communicating some portion
of these benefits to others. It will improve the condition and
rouse the faculties of all who partake in that commerce. The
influence abroad of the Grecian and Roman commonwealths
was next to nothing, because their commerce was so exceedingly limited. Commerce multiplies the numbers of the middle class, and creates a community of feelings and opinions,
between different people, how widely soever they may be separated from each other. My first proposition then is, that
American commerce has assisted, directly or indirectly, in
promoting the growth of the middle class in more than one
country in -aErope.
Here, a question very naturally presents itself: why should
American institutions exert a more marked influence upon
Europe, than European institutions exert upon America?
The answer has already been hinted at. Under'any of the most
tolerably favorable circumstances, the tendency of most communities is one of progress rather than of retrogradation.
Circumstances of one kind or other, foreign conquest, or longcontinued civil commotions, may check this tendency for a
time, but it is sure to re.appear, and to become the rule, not
the exception, in the history of a nation's life. But if the
middle class constitute the great bulk of the population in the
United States; and if this class, in consequence of its favorable position, is enabled to make rapid and substantial advances in everything which concerns individual and social




678            NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOKi IV.
well being, its influence, or the influence of the community it
represents, will be proportionately great abroad. It will be
so, not merely in consequence of the numbers who go to make
up this influence, but because of the number upon whom it is
fitted to act.
Now, the form of government established in the United
States (one peculiarly adapted to a country in which the middle class predominate), is the most striking event of the age.
It excites the inquisitiveness of all classes in other countries;
of the common people, because such a scheme promises to lift
them higher in the scale; and of the speculative, because having worked so well in practice, the doubts which have troubled
them so much are in a great measure resolved. There are
symptoms, not to be mistaken, that this new system is exercising the minds of the thoughtful and enlightened in every
part of Europe, more than; at any preceding period.
Free institutions contribute to produce uniformity in the
manners and laws, and this again contributes to produce a
more uniform civilization.  But the unequal civilization of
different parts of the same country is the most fruitful source
of all the disorders to which society is liable. A system,
therefore, which is calculated to repress licentiousness in one
part, and too much power in another, is no longer regarded as
a startling theory. Sober and discreet individuals everywhere
put to themselves the question, whether the time is not coming when there will be no other alternative than such institutions, or a frightful conflict between liberty and power; and
whether it would not be the part of true wisdom to ward off,
by forestalling the evil day?
Morality, knowledge, the prevalence of good manners, denote what we term civilization; and as these are all set in
motion by freedom of thought, the more widely freedom of
thought is diffused, the more powerful will be the inpulse
given to civilization. A community which exhibits cultivation and refinement only in the higher ranks, can exert no
sensible influence upon the mass of the population in another
country; but when a people are lifted so high as to be within
reach of the superior classes, and yet not so high as to be
alienated from the inferior, a door of communication is opened
with both. And this explains more precisely the reason why




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                679
America is destined to exert a more marked influence upon
European institutions than it is possible for Europe to exert
upon American institutions.
What, then, it may be inquired, is to be the ultimate effect?
Are the European states destined to be republicanized? That
is not a necessary consequence. The existing governments
may be greatly improved, without possessing the perfection,
or, we may say, without having the precise character which
the American constitutions have. It may be admitted, that
it will be difficult to arrest the progress of free inquiry, if;
after liberty has gained any great advantage, the authority of
government is found to be firmer, and yet the people are rendered happier. Wild license may be checked, perhaps totally
suppressed; but it is not easy to set bounds to any general
movement of the human mind. As soon as in any European
state tahe middle class have become the influential one; and
this is, perhaps, already the case in more than one or two, it
indicates that the tribunal of public opinion is fairly erected
there; and this is very nearly the same as to say that such a
state is ripe for free institutions, although these may not in
every instance be modeled after the same plan.
Difference of languages, among different nations, has hitherto created great impediments to the exercise of any general
influence of one upon another. Governments have acted upon
each other, but the people have found no channel of communication. Thus different languages have contributed to form
and to perpetuate dissimilar manners and institutions; and
these in their turn have caused the people of different countries to look upon each other as belonging to different races.
A taste and a capacity for free institutions places all more
nearly upon' one common ground, creates a sort of universal
language intelligible to all, and brushes away those distinctions which had drawn a line of separation between the3m.
The construction of a system of government like the Amierican, one which is thoroughly representative in all its parts,
may not be exactly entitled to the appellation of a discovery,
but it approaches so nearly to the character of one, as to render the dispute little more than verbal. The new application
of a great principle may be quite as important, and display as
much fertility of invention, as the discovery of the principle




680             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
itself; or rather, the discovery cannot be said to be complete
and perfect, as long as any material application of it remains
to be found out. Until then, it is the subject of conjecture,
but not an item of knowledge, no more than it is one of experience.
We see a plain illustration of this, in all those sciences
which have reference to the physical world. Great laws of
the human understanding may be discovered, and the discovery necessarily terminate there. But a principle in mechanics,
in chemistry, etc., may be almost null, until it is applied.
Until then it may be thought over, but cannot be said to be
fairly grasped. Newton transferred the principle of gravitation from the terrestrial to the celestial world; and the application is justly regarded in the light of a discovery. Very
frequently the problem presented is not, does a certain agent
exist? for that may be a matter of general notoriety; but
whether an untried and therefore unknown application of it
is practicable. The finding out this application is a real discovery, more or less important in proportion to the importance
of the application. Almost all the discoveries in physical
science present us with the application of some previous knowledge. To deny on that account that they were discoveries,
would be to erase from the history of the mind the entire list
of discoveries to which it lays claim. Fulton made discovery
of the application of steam.  It was this application which
substituted a principle in the place of a mere fact.
Prior to the existence of the American government, the plan
of representation had been applied, however imperfectly, to
one political department, but never to all in the same government. The Americans transferred the principle to the entire
system of government, as Newton transferred the principle of
gravity to the whole material universe. And as in chemistry,
the mixture of two substances will often produce a third, differing in all its qualities from either of the others, so a new combination of two political elements, may produce a result different from any before witnessed.
If we admit that the American government is a valuable
scheme, then the two great problems which it has solved, are:
first, the practicability of conferring the electoral franchise
upon the great body of the people; and secondly, of making




CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE LNSTITUTIONS.                681
all the political departments elective. And if this scheme is
not entitled to the name of a discovery, it comes so near to
one, as I before remarked, that the dispute is little more than
one of words. For, what questions are there in political philosophy, which press with so much weight upon the minds of
all thinking men in Europe, as the very two to which I have
referred? WVhat other questions are there, which by them are
still considered as debatable and unsettled? One has no right
to quarrel with those who are disposed to view these questions
in that light; but once admitted that they are settled, although
it should be for America alone, and the system is assuredly
raised to the rank of a discovery.
The introduction of written constitutions into some of the
European states, is the first instance I shall notice where the
influence of American institutions abroad is clearly visible.
France, Belgium, Holland, as well as some of the German
and Italian states, have resorted to this species of fundamental
ordinance, by which to balance and regulate their governments. Prior to the formation of the American constitutions,
there was not a single example to be found. A written constitution, however imperfect, will never be a change for the
worse, and can hardly fail to be one for the better. But it is
very doubtful, whether if some powerful influence from abroad
had not occurred to furnish hints to the thoughtful, a single
European state would at this day be in possession of such an
instrument.
As a happy suggestion, concurring with favorable circumstances, or bending circumstances its own way, has frequently
had power to change the fortunes and alter the destiny of an
individual, the striking example of a wise and yet novel system of government, in one community, rouses great multitudes of people in others to new views, and may give an entirely new direction to their future career.
It is a fine observation of John Taylor, of Caroline,* that
constitutions, or political laws, are intended to restrain governments, as civil laws are intended to restrain individuals.
It is because the former are so efficacious in producing the
effect intended that the publie men of Europe made so much
resistance to their introduction.  They apprehended, that
"Tyranny Unmasked," p. 255.




682             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK IV.
whatever power was subtracted from the government would
constitute an addition to the ill-regulated power of the masses;
and that full vent would be given to the worst passions and
the most unbridled licentiousness. But this is a great mistake, for a constitution, as I have before remarked, acts as a
double restraint; it is a restraint upon the people to fully as
great an extent as it is upon the government. And what
may appear still more surprising, it is more stringent, more
efficacious in its operation, in both respects, when it is ordained by the people, than when it is a grant from the ruling
authority.
Until the formation of a written constitution, the great majority of mankind make no distinction between the will of the
government and the will of the community. The two are considered identical. What the former commands is deemed
to be lawful, and what it forbids to be unlawful. Thus, although there is a well-defined rule for the observance of the
people, there is no law by which we can arraign the government. Hence the maxim, "the king can do no wrong;" a
maxim which, although professing to be applied to one person, yet cannot well subsist without rendering all public men
less amenable to public opinion than they would otherwise be.
Government, in many communities, bears a close resemblance to the ecclesiastical system of antiquity. A thorough
separation was effected between religion and morality. That
a dogma was incredible, that it shocked human belief, and ran
counter to all the precepts of virtue, only served to recommend
it. The highest notions were formed of the priesthood, when
it could make things the most incongruous stand together.
In the same way, dogmas in government, which contradict the
common sense of mankind, acquire a hold upon the mind because there is no rival authority to dispute their rectitude.
America has also exerted an influence upon the structure of
the legislative authority in Europe. When the American constitutions were established, Great Britain was the only state
in which there was even the semblance of a representative
chamber. The plan upon which the legislative body in Europe was originally formed was that of representation of estates, not of persons. This at one period was the case in England; and in Scotland it continued to be so until the union.




CHAP. VII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                683
The same system is still preserved in the Swedish monarchy.
This plan invariably denotes a rude and uncultivated society.
For independently of the very imperfect manner in which
these estates are represented, such a scheme of government
exhibits the community as divided into distinct tribes or clans
rather than as composing one aggregate community. Hence
a legislative body which represents citizens, not classes or
orders, is one of the finest expedients for correcting the numberless discrepancies in the manners, customs, and modes of
thinking of different sections of society. The creation of the
French house of deputies has assisted greatly in bringing
about this result in that country, as much as the formation of
its celebrated civil code. Both conspire to the same end.
The one establishes a uniform rule for the government of men
in their civil relations, the other renders them one people as
regards their political interests.
The plan of popular representation is still very imperfect in
all the European states. But that a great impulse has been
communicated to the public mind in that quarter; and that
this dates from the establishment of free institutions in America, and has kept pace with them, are undoubted facts, and
the very ones I am intent upon showing.
As soon as the antiquated system of a representation of estates in one chamber of the legislative body begins to give
way, a very important step is taken toward discarding it altogether. A chamber of nobles may exist for a considerable
period afterward; but in several of the European kingdoms a
hereditary peerage has been abolished; and this is a second
and very decisive step toward a thorough reorganization of
the legislative authority. A house of lords is a remnant of
the old scheme of dividing men into classes. In order ever to
to get rid of it, it is important in the first instance to do away
with the hereditary principle. This shakes the institution
without producing any convulsion. It deprives the nobility of
a large share of the prestige which before surrounded them,
and by weakening the hold which they had obtained upon the
imagination of the people renders it easier to reconstruct the
whole institution. By going thus far, say European legislators, we follow the example of Solon, who gave the people not
the best laws, but the best which they are at present capable
of bearing.




684             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
Senate is a term the meaning of which had been almost lost
from the political world, until it was revived in the United
States. Several of the Europeon states, copying after America, now designate the upper house of the legislative body by
the name of senate. There is " power in words," and however
short these bodies may fall of the American senate, the change
of name is an index of a very material revolution in the state
of public opinion. National assembly, the name given to the
Frenrch legislature in 1789, in the place of that of "" general
estates," was no further important than as it indicated which
way the strong current of public opinion was running, and
served as a rallying sign to gather the friends of liberty together. But this was importance enough. It foreshadowed
the rise of the present house of deputies.:How long the British community will deem it expedient to
retain the house of lords we can form no conjecture. The
spread of popular intelligence contributes to weaken its authority; and, yet, this very diminution of authority assists for
a time in fortifying the institution. How long the opposite
working of one and the same principle will last, we are unable
to predict. Popular intelligence, carried to a certain point,
acquires the double character of a conservative as well as of
an innovating agent. It is where the disorders of society become so frightful as to baffle all efforts to reform, that it assumes the last character exclusively. The immense influence
which public opinion has acquired, in the present century,
puts both king and nobility very much upon their good behavior. So far from committing outrages upon the popular
will, they become more disposed to fall in with, nay, even to
succumb to it. The abolition of the institution of a hereditary chamber is thus indefinitely postponed, because the practical working of the system is such as to refer nearly all the
legislative power to the house of commons.
But so many causes are in operation to elevate the popular
mind, and to cause public opinion to be the representative of the
middle class, and not, as formerly, of the nobility and gentry,
that the same revoiution which banished the Gothic system of
a representation of estates in one chamber, is silently undermining it in the other. If the house of peers were to stretch
its authority so far as the theory of the constitution supposes,




CIHAP. vIr.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               685
it would be in immediate danger. The history of the events
which attended the passage of the reform act goes very far to
show this. Chartism has been silenced, but it is difficult to
conceive how there can have been so decisive a manifestation
of opinion as that association indicated, unless there had been
some general movement in other parts of society. Chartism,
no more than the house of lords, can be triumphant, because
the triumph of an extreme opinion would involve the demolition of all others, when the use of opposing opinions is to limit
and correct one another. But we may with propriety assert,
that the opinions of that body of men were powerfully instrumental in rousing the legislature to enter upon the task of reform; and that these occurrences afford very strong evidence
that the notion of free institutions has taken deep hold of the
public mind.
Municipal reform is another department of legislation, in
which America has exercised an influence upon Europe. Until
a recent period, the government of the towns in Great Britain,
especially in Scotland, was wielded by a close aristocracy. In
the latter, the town councils were self-existing bodies, and
supplied all vacancies in their own number. In England and
Wales, the government of the towns was not so thoroughly
defective; but these were faults enough to call for the most
speedy and extensive reform. The commissioners who were
appointed, in 1833, to inquire into the state of the municipal
corporations of England and Wales, conclude their very able
report, by declaring that these bodies 1" neither possessed nor
deserved the confidence of his majesty's subjects, and that a
thorough reform must be effected in them before they become
what they ought to be, and might become useful and efficient
instruments of local government."  The act of 1835 carried
out the views of this remarkable paper, and the system of
municipal government throughout Great Britain for the first
time resembles very nearly that which has constantly existed
in the United States. Amid the agitation of the human mind
in the nineteenth century- amid the bold and independent
spirit of inquiry which has seized all classes, and is bent upon
sifting every question of political right, the composition of the
most inconsiderable local jurisdictions becomes a matter of the
gravest importance.




686             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
In France, similar alterations have been made in the structure of the communes. Two years prior to the revocation of
the edict of Nantes, their privileges were greatly curtailed.
But a portion of the inhabitants still participated in the choice
of some of the officers. At present, as I have already had
occasion to notice, the communal electors in all France amount
to nearly three millions. Men are first taught to manage their
private affairs, because they are the first which are brought
close to their view. The intimate relation which exists between
the inhabitants of a commune, resembles the association of a
family, and the transition is easy, from the management of
their private business to that of the corporation. When they
are fairly initiated in this they begin to look beyond, and discover that the prosperity of these local jurisdictions is linked
in numberless ways with the prosperity of the whole state.
The knowledge which they acquire by exercising their minds
upon a new theater, so far from interfering with ther private
pursuits, renders them more skillful and more prudent in the
conduct of their public affairs. The observation of this fact,
as forming a striking feature in American institutions and
manners, has caused those institutions to exert a wide and
extensive influence upon European society.
The spirit of reform has penetrated even the Austrian government. An edict has been proclaimed this year (1846),
which abolishes all guilds, corporations, or jurauda of trades
and professions, leaving every one to follow whatever business
he chooses. Butchers, bakers, and keepers of public houses
are alone excepted. These guilds, corporations, and jurauda,
are so entirely unknown in America, that the inhabitants of
that country have great difficulty in even understanding the
import of the terms.
There are some institutions which appear to be of secondary
importance, but which on a close examination, and viewed as
parts of an extensive system, are found to be of primary value.
The plan adopted in the United States for collecting the votes
at all popular elections, is an example. The minute division
of the electoral districts, which are established for that express
purpose, elude our attention in consequence of their extreme
familiarity. Yet it is this very circumstance which renders the
plan valuable. If we say that a mere regard to convenience




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                687
was sufficient to have suggested the idea, the question still
recurs: whose convenience is consulted? And as the answer
is, that it is the convenience of the electors, that is, of the
people, which is sought to be promoted, the whole plan is indicative of the elevated position which the popular body in
America occupy. Behind a rule, which appears to be one of
mere detail, we find concealed a principle of the highest magnitude.
In the United States, the votes for a member of congress are
sometimes given at sixty or seventy places in the district. In
those states where townships exist, the votes are collected in
them; in those where there is no such territorial division, they
are collected in parishes; and in those where there are neither
townships nor parishes, artificial districts are created under
the name of 1" precincts." This is a great convenience to the
country population; and this regard for the convenience of
individuals, is attended with immense public benefit. The
presence at the polls, of the substantial class of citizens, is
insured. The industrious, the orderly, the reflecting, are punctual in their attendance. Little time is consumed in going to
and from the polls, and the private business of no one is interrupted. The assembling of a great multitude at one spot,
would lead to infinite confusion, to riots, intoxication, and
every species of disorder. It is a remarkable trait in the
human character, that when people are abroad and collected
in considerable numbers, they not only feel themselves licensed,
but they even feel under a sort of obligation, to take liberties
which they would not dream of at home. Until very recently,
some English statesmen were accustomed to congratulate themselves on the advantages of this plan. Writers of the liberal
party insisted that the periodical bursts of popular feeling which
took place at the hustings, were indispensable to keep alive
the spirit of liberty, and to countervail the influence of the
king and aristocracy. Popular opinion, it was said, wore an
air of more authority, in consequence of these tumultuous assemblages. There is great force in this view; but it is doubtful whether the plan was not attended with some disadvantages,
so great as even to counterbalance all the good which might
be expected from it. It is doubtful whether great numbers of
well-disposed persons, those who were sincerely desirous of




688             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
tempering the authority of the government, by an admixture
of more of the popular element, were not driven to take
refuge in that very authority, from the greater evils which
impended in another quarter. The effect was to fortify the
influence of the crown and aristocracy, rather than to introduce
those staid and orderly habits which fit men for self-government. At any rate, I observe that the party which magnified
so much the advantage of collecting the whole votes of a county
at a single spot, have abandoned it and adopted the American
plan. In conformity with a provision contained in the reform
act of 1832, the counties are divided into a number of smaller
districts or precincts, in which the votes are taken. There is
another advantage attending this plan: the polls are not kept
open for six or eight weeks as formerly. In analogy to the
American laws on the same subject, they are kept open two
days in the counties, and but one in the cities. The course of
legislation in France has followed the same direction. The
elections, instead of being holden at the chief town of the department, are held separately in the arrondissements. Thus
the polls are opened at four hundred and fifty-nine, instead of
at eighty-six places only. This number, however, is below
that which exists in many of the American states, taken singly.
In Ohio it is more than double. For every arrangement of
detail in matters of this kind is an indication of something important lying at the bottom. Ohio has three hundred thousand
electors, and all France has only two hundred thousand.
In another respect the French legislature have likened the
electoral system to that of the United States. There is no
distinction, as in Great Britain, between members from counties and from cities. The representation is proportioned to
the amount of the population, not its locality. If a city
is large enough to send one or more deputies, the elections
are held for it exclusively as in the United States; but not
because it is a city. The consequence is, that a majority of the
deputies cannot, as in Great Britain, be returned by a minority
of the electors. The separate representation of boroughs and
counties, is another relic of the antiquated system of representation by estates. The members do not compose different
bodies as formerly; the veto is transferred from the estates to
the electors who choose.




CHAP. VII.]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               689
A national bank was established in the- United States in the
year 1790. It continued to exist, with the exception of a short
interval, until 1835. The most striking and original feature
in the plan consisted in the organization of branches in all the
chief cities. But it is remarkable that at the very time congress were engaged in deliberating upon the law which terminated the existence of the institution, the British parliament
were busily employed in modeling the bank of England upon
the same plan. The act of 1833, which renewed the charter,
authorized the establishment of branches in various parts
of the kingdom. And it cannot be doubted, that if it be
wise to create an institution of this kind, the advantages of
which it is capable should be diffused over the whole country.
It is but the application of the great principle of distributing
power and privileges. The operation of this principle is witnessed in all the political institutions of the United States. It
is equally displayed in all those institutions which are of a
mixed character, or which are semi-political and semi-civil.
There are two ways of distributing power: one is, by rendering all the associations who exercise it independent of one,another; the other, by creating a single institution, and causing its benefits to be spread over as large a population as
possible. The first plan guards as well as, humanly speaking,
can be done against the condensation of power. But the
second may have a totally different effect, from the one intended. And where this is the case it is plainly anti-republican. It is true, the more an institution scatters its agents,
the more it is exposed to the scrutiny of the public eye. This
acts as a check upon it. But the check may be insufficient
notwithstanding; the tendency to centralization where all the
officers are parts of one and the same corporation, may still be
too strong. A national bank was an experiment in America,
and the plan of creating branches was a fine idea. It is no
wonder, therefore, that it was first seized by France, and afterward by Great Britain. One design of the institution in
America, was to act as a check upon the over issues of the
local banks. But, in order to compass this end, it would be
necessary at the present day that it should wield an enormous
capital. And this leads to the inquiry, whether it is ever wise
to endow an institution, half civil and half political, with so
44




690             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
great an influence; or, as a corporation of this character must
necessarily be conducted by beings of similar capacities and
passions with those who preside over the local institutions,
whether it would be prudent to risk all at one stake, instead
of diminishing the chances of a great loss by the nmultiplication
of banks.
The bank of the United States was on the eve of bankruptcy in 1819. In 1835 it became totally bankrupt.  The
refusal of Congress to recharter it may have this good effect.
It may compel the state governments to adopt some effectual
plan for preventing the disorders of their own currency. So
long as anational bank was looked to as the great regulator
of state issues, it did not occur to any one that it was possible
to place the local institutions upon any other than the precarious foundation on which they had previously stood. But it
is plain, that if it is possible to secure the fidelity of the first,
it must be equally so to secure that of the last. Thus the disuse of a national bank, may now have the same effect which
its establishment was originally intended to have. One design was to make it act as a check upon the issues of other
banks; but these have multiplied to such an extent as to render the check totally insufficient; while at the same time, the
multiplication of local banks is an indication that these have
become institutions of the people, and not of a separate moneyed interest, and we have the same security that they will
be governed by the same wholesome laws which pervade every other part of society. I do not know that any device will
be completely effectual to guard against their misconduct and
to prevent the fatal revulsions to which the community is exposed. And yet they are so thoroughly incorporated into the
habits of the American people, that it would be a herculean
task to abolish them. We cannot do with them, yet we cannot do without them. The bank of England stopped payment
from 1797 to 1817. Notwithstanding the control which it exercised over the provincial banks was more complete than
that possessed by the bank of the United States over the
state banks; yet in 1825, more than seventy banks out of
London, were crushed by the temporary pressure of that year.
And 1814, 1815, and 1816 (says a distinguished writer),* " a
*M'Culloch. " Statistical View of Great Britain," vol. 2, p. 29.




CUh&P. VIIu]      OF FREE INS I'ITUTIONS.              691
greater destruction of bank paper took place than had ever
previously been known, except perhaps at the breaking up of
the Mississippi scheme in France."  The notion that banks
have contributed materially to further the prosperity of the
country, has had great influence in reconciling the American
people to them. Every one feels as if they were somen how or
other connected with that prosperity. And this is undoubtedly the case. But it may be that they stand in the relation
of effect, and not of cause. The Americans do not believe that
they have explored and mastered every department of political
knowledge, but they do believe that the circumstances in which
they are placed have permitted them to make more constant
and earnest endeavors to do so, than it has fallen to the lot of
any other people to be able to make.
The amelioration of the criminal code is one of the most decisive marks that I know of, of the general progress of society.
It is an indication of a high state of civilization, in contradistinction to a merely high state of refinement. In no country
have so great efforts been made in this department of legislation, as in the United States. And these have had a very
perceptible influence upon the European states. It has been
said with great force, that the humane treatment of animals
can in no sense be regarded as a duty toward, them, for duty
imports a relation to intelligent and conscientious beings; but
it is most clearly a duty toward ourselves and other men.
Every species of brutality, toward whomsoever it may be exercised, adds strength to the lower part of our nature, which
stands in needs of checks instead of provocatives to its exercise.
And when such treatment is exhibted toward criminals, and is
sanctioned by the laws, the fountain of morality is poisoned at
its source: the whole community is involved in a species of
guilt. The desire of witnessing exhibitions of cruelty and
suffering, we should characterize as unnatural, as a deformity
in the human character, if it were not so general. But no
matter what it proceeds from, whether from an instinctive
curiosity to know every thing which affects our common nature,
or as is most probably the case, from a desire to hide and to
suffocate our own infirmities and vices, it invariably terminates
in corrupting the whole of society. On this account, the amelioration of the criminal code of a country has a much more




692             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
extensive bearing than at first appears. Even if it were attended with no absolute diminution of crime, and had but little
influence upon the band of criminals, it contributes mightily to
purify the moral atmosphere of society, and to make other
men-more humane and more virtuous than they would otherwise be.
The system of penitentiary discipline in the American states
has almost entirely superseded capital punishments, the pillory, branding, etc., and it has commanded an unusual share
of attention from the public men of Europe. Commissioners
from England, France, and Prussia, visited the country, in
order to become thoroughly acquainted with it, and to make
reports to their own governments. The eastern penitentiary
at Philadelphia, the most remarkable institution of the kind
then existing, attracted their notice in a particular degree. I
believe all of these commissioners concurred in the opinion that
the plan adopted there answers all the ends of punishment
better than any other which has been fallen upon. In England, it was immediately carried into effect. The secretary
for the home department, to whom this interest is confided,
issued a circular, in 1837, directing all the prisons of the kingcdom to be placed upon that footing. I have no exact information as to the course which has been pursued in France and
Prussia. It is exceedingly important that the efficacy of the
plan of entire seclusion, which is adopted in the Pennsylvania
penitentiaries, should be thoroughly tested; it has not been
introduced in the other states, and the public mind is in great
hesitation as to its propriety. The experience of the English
public will, therefore, contribute greatly to settle this difficult
and interesting question.
When Dr. Rush, and other eminent men in Pennsylvania
ventured the opinion, that cruel punishments increased instead of lessening the number of crimes, people were exceedingly slow in comprehending how this could be the case. And
yet no experiment which has been made upon human nature
has been more decisive than the substitution of mild in the
place of severe punishments. The ferocity which used to be
practised toward criminals roused their ferocity the more;
they were converted into a band of soldiers, who believed




CHAP. vII.       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               693
that they were of right called upon to make war upon the unnatural institutions of society.
In England criminals were executed by thousands where
they now are by dozens. Romilly and AMackintosh, as illustrious for their virtues as for their intelligence, commenced
the work of reform. No great alterations were made for some
time; but a powerful impulse was given to the public mind,
and that was enough to insure ultimate success. Sir Robert
Peel threw the whole weight of his influence into the scale;
he procured the abolition of capital punishment in a great
number of instances. For more than a century prior to 1827,
every species of forgery had been punished with death. The
various statutes on this subject have been one by one repealed.
In the first year of the present queen, the last hand was put
to the work, by abolishing the punishment in the only two remaining cases. In the three years ending with 1836, no execution for any offense took place in London. But not only
has the number of executions diminished greatly, but what is
of much more importance, the commitments for offenses which
were once punished capitally have also decreased.
It was, I think, in the year 1836, also, that the American
customl of permitting counsel to all accused persons was for
the first time introduced into England. The reader is familiar
with the anecdote told of Shaftsbury. This statesman had a
powerful understanding, but as a speaker he was awkward
and hesitating. While speaking on this question he became
embarrassed and was thrown off his guard by some trifling
circumstance; but recovering himself bIe appealed strongly to
the good sense of the house, demanding what must be the
condition of the prisoner, forsaken by every one and yet perhaps innocent, when he who stood up as a member of the
most illustrious assembly in the world was so easily abashed
and confused.
The bill, however, did not pass. The plan seemed to be
unworthy of attention, at a time when it was the common
sentiment that accused persons did not stand within the pale
of humanity. It is only ten years ago, that Lord Lyndhurst
succeeded in procuring the passage of a bill which permits
counsel to prisoners in felonies as well as in treason. The
French government had preceded the English in the work of




694             NATURE AND TENDENCY            [BOOK IV.
reform. The emperor Napoleon was so much struck with the
reasonableness and humanity of the American law, that he
caused a similar provision to be inserted in the criminal code.
It had been said in England, that the judge was the prisoner's
counsel, a saying which comports little with our knowledge of
the human heart. A judge would not be very apt to err in
summing up the testimony; and yet I recollect a trial which
took place a, few years before the late act of parliament, when
a prisoner, arraigned for a capital offense, corrected the judge
who delivered the charge, upon a matter of fact, on which the
whole issue depended.
It is very common in the United States to hear the remark,
"all our jurisprudence has been borrowed from England."
But I am persuaded, that if any one would be at the pains to
examine the codes of the several states, he would find that
the diversities between the English and American law, were
both striking and numerous. The alterations which have
been made at any one time, are perhaps inconsiderable; but
when we sum up the whole, the aggregate is very imposing.
am not sure but that the differences are as great as between
the common and the civil law. Roman law was the "'substratum" of English law. It could not be otherwise; for the
Saxons who settled in Britain were among the most barbarous
of the European tribes; while on the other hand, the Romans
were a highly civilized people, and their institutions of every
kind had existed uninterruptedly for four centuries. But the
Rtoman law was imodified by the new customs and altered condition of society, which grew up gradually after England became an independent state. A similar revolution has taken
place in American jurisprudence. Very great changes have
been wrought directly by the operation of the political institutions and a still greater number indirectly, by the manners
and by the habits of business consequent on those institutions.
The abolition of primogeniture and entails is one example
among many of the first; the abolition of fines and recoveries,
the disuse of real actions and the simplification of the modes
of conveyance, are instances of the second. The speech of
Henry Brougham on the reformration of the law, although the
most remarkable effort which has been made to remold English
law and to give it a more democratic character, contained very




CHAP. VIl.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.,              695
few suggestions which had not long before been anticipated in
America. The commissioners who were appointed under the
resolution of that great statesman, made elaborate reports on
each department of the law, and so striking are the similarities in some instances, even in detail, between the changes
proposed by them, and the actual state of American law, that
one might be inclined to suppose that the codes of some of
the American states were before them  at the time.  Mr.
Humphreys, an English lawyer, has written an able and instructive work on real property. But its great merit consists,
not in an exposition of what the law is, but in pointing out
various important changes which should be made, many of
which have long since been introduced in America.
The "procedure" of the courts of justice, makes up a very
important part of the jurisprudence of a country. I shaUl
notice a few differences between the English and American
law. A few are enough to set the intelligent reader a-thinking.
English writers have remarked that the way to an English
court was over a bridge of gold. In America, it has been
supposed that this is true only of the court of chancery. But
t find that in the king's bench, the expense of recovering so
small a sum as twenty-five dollars, even where no defense is
made and judgment goes by default, was not less than seventy
dollars prior to the late reform acts. The constitution of the
courts, however unexceptionable it may be in theory, may
dwindle into insignificance, if the practical working of the
system is attended with such enormous expense as to bar the
entrance to them.
The time which is alloted to the hearing of causes is a matter of equal importance. In England, the average number of
days set apart for this purpose, in the six circuits is two hundred and eighty-five. In the single state of Ohio, the average
number in each of the fifteen circuits, is one hundred and
fifty-two, independently of the terms of supreme court. The
business transacted in those fifteen circuits corresponds exactly with that which is transacted by English judges on their
circuits, with the addition, in the former instance, of complete
chancery jurisdiction. The population of England is more
than fifteen millions, that of Ohio is two millions. The pressure of business in the English courts is so much beyond the




696             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
ability of the judges to transact, that great numbers of suitors
are necessarily precluded from appealing to them. This defect has to some extent been lately rectified by referring the
trial of cases of small amount to tribunals similar to those of
American justices of the peace, and by obliging counsel in
the higher courts to make a statement in writing of the facts
in controversy, and the points relied upon. This frequently
cuts short the whole matter, and the case is settled summarily and satisfactorily. This practice is of familiar occurrence
in many of the courts of the American states.
The difference between Englisb and American jurisprudence
(a difference which is visible both in the civil codes and the
codes of procedure of the two countries), arises from this circnmmstance: that in the latter, the laws are made by the representatives of the people, and are accommodated to the wants
and exigencies of the people; in the former, the laws are
viewed as parts of an artificial and complex system, and to interfere with them extensively might have the effect, although
indirectly at first, of displacing, in some part or other, the authority of the government.
I believe there is but one of the American states in which
land is not liable, precisely like personal property, to the satisfaction of all debts. And in that one it is capable of being
reached, although the process is a little circuitous. A sweeping reformation of this kind is of more moment than a hundred other enactments which sometimes engage the attention
of the curious and learned inquirer. We may pardon the human mind for its obliquities when it is condemned to grope its
way in the dark; and when we learn that the reason why,
originally, certain creditors could only extend one-half' of the
debtor's land, was, because the king might want the other
half in his wars, we make allowance for the uncouth notions
which everywhere prevailed in the middle ages.  But the law
has continued to exist long after England had been blessed
with a succession of wise statesmen and enlightened lawyers.
The cause of the difference between the two countries, then,
must be sought in the fact, that in America the people are very
generally landed proprietors; and that in England the case is
otherwise. A law which exempts real property from the payment of debts is not so much a civil as it is a political regu



CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               697
lation. It contributes to fortify the authority of a landed
aristocracy.
When we learn that in two of the three English courts of
common law, the practice of the profession is a strict monopoly, that in the common pleas none but sergeants are permitted to practice, and that in the exchequer the business is confined to four attorneys and sixteen clerks, as the practitioners
in that court are denominated, this may not strike all minds
alike. Some will view it as a mere arbitrary rule, and as a
matter of indifference, one way or the other; others will regard
it as an arrangement adapted in some way or other to institutions different from their own, and, therefore, not to be tried
by the same standard. But others will take the plain and
direct view of the matter, and considering courts of justice as
established for the express purpose of adjusting the numerous
controversies which arise in every civilized community, will
conclude that an institution which confines the transaction of
legal business to a few privileged persons, will be fatal to the
ambition of others-will render those who do manage it less
able and assiduous than they would otherwise be, and render
the administration of justice both more dilatory and expensive.
The mischiefs which grow out of this curious system, as well
as those which result from the exemption of land for the payment of debts, have within a few years arrested the attention
of English statesmen and lawyers, and it is not at all improbable that the laws, in both respects, will be so altered as to
partake of the very simple character which belongs to them
in the United States.
For this is an age different from all others in one particular 
The enlightened of all countries begin to sympathize with one
another, in the efforts which each is making to ameliorate the
condition of the community to which he belongs. People of
different nations are learning to look upon each other as members of one great commonwealth, each of whom is interested
in the advancement and prosperity of the others.
All laws which affect private right have an important bearing upon general society; so much so, that from the general
character of the civil code we may very nearly determine what
is the general state of the manners. But there are some laws
which act more directly than others upon the social organiza



698              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOlK IV.
tion;-such are the laws abolishing primogeniture and entails.
If the design of the legislator is to establish an aristocratic
form of society, and to strengthen it on all sides by institutions, in private as well as in public life, there is no surer way
than by legalizing primogeniture and entails. If, on the other
hand, the design is to introduce free institutions, and to make
the faculties of the greatest number of men available to the
public weal, the first thing he will do, after modeling the political power, will be to establish the rule of equal partibility,
and remove the obstacles to the free alienation of property.
If the Scotch and English people still cling to primogeniture
and entails (the relies of feudal institutions,) the Americans,
at any rate, were in the right in believing that the abolition of
those laws was indispensable to the working of their own institutions.
Mr. M3althus and Dr. Chalmers have undertaken to vindicate the propriety of these laws. The last has even gone so
far as to maintain that government is bound to make provision
for y.ounger sons, in order to prevent their becoming idlers
and vagabonds. There are some minds which do not permit
themselves to look far enough into the future; there are others
which, seeing far enough, are yet content to sacrifice the noble
ambition of usefulness to mankind to the opinions which they
find prevailing in the ruling class of society. There may be
difficulty in getting rid of those laws now (perhaps on trial
this would be found to be much less than is imagined), but if
they had been dispensed with two or three centuries ago, in
all the European states, a division of property similar to what
exists in America would have been the consequence, the gen
eral standard of comfort would have been raised, the preventive check to population would have acquired strength, and
the people would have been both stronger and happier.
France and Belgium have introduced the rule of equal partibility, and I do not perceive that any ill consequences have
ensued, but the reverse is the case. Mr. MIalthus supposes
that the subdivision of properties will create a race too feeble
to make head against the throne and aristocracy. But it does
not follow that because an intestate's (or even testator's) property is divided among his children, that anything like an equality of property will be preserved. The effect of primogeniture




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                699
and entails is to accumulate property in the hands of those
who may or may not render it productive; and the effect of
their abolition is to make sure that whenever such an accumulation does take place, from purchase and as the reward of
industry and enterprise, it shall redound as much as possible
to the general wealth.
There is every reason to believe, that the "tiers etat" in
France, so far from being weakened as a body, by these laws,
have been raised in the scale. Certain it is, that popular opinion was never so strong as it is at present: the abolition of an
hereditary peerage, and the formation of a written constitution, are incontestible proofs of this. Many enlightened individuals in Great Britain, still have misgivings. They do not
feel enough assured of all the consequences of so great a change,
although they believe that in many respects it would be advantageous.  We sometimes lament in secret over the ills
which pursue us in public and in private life. We perhaps
cherish them the more closely on that very account, and even
assume an air of indifference or cheerfulness, in order to be
revenged upon them. But time and reflection at last drive us
to meet them full armed, and then they vanish as the mists of
the morning.
It has been my attention to glance at a few only of the differences between European and American institutions, as a
clue to the influence which American legislation has exercised,
or is likely to exercise upon the old world. A few instances
are abundantly sufficient to suggest matter for thought, and
to lead the reader to the recollection of a much greater number.
A remarkable instance has just occurred in Scotland: and
this revolution consists simply in the introduction of what in
America is termed the "' voluntary principle" in religion. At
the head of this movement stands Chalmers; who, notwithstanding the reasoning he had employed to vindicate the customs of primogeniture and entails, yet takes the lead in weakening, indirectly, the hold which they have obtained upon the
public mind. For all the institutions of society which are any
ways of a kindred character, are intimately connected; and
whatever contributes to strengthen or to lessen the authority
of one has a similar effect upon all. To introduce liberal and




700             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
enlightened notions into some of these, therefore, and to resist
vehemently their influence in others, is to run counter to the
end we propose, and to neutralize the good we effect, by the
ill we leave behind. Doubtless, one reason why American
congregations are able to compensate their ministers so handsomely, is because the repeal of all laws which fetter the
transmission of property has given an unwonted energy to individual enterprise, and increased the number of those who
are in independent circumstances.
At the date of the American revolution, nearly all the states
had an ecclesiastical establishment, similar to that of England
and Scotland. The introduction of the voluntary system, was
one of the fruits of that revolution. The scheme was a new
one. In Europe, it was predicted, that religion would fall to
decay. So powerless is the mind in forming its conclusions,
when it is left without the help of experience. The support
afforded to religion, in the United States, is larger than in any
European state except Great Britain; the professors of religion
are numerous, and public order and morality, to say the least,
are as well preserved as in any other part of the world.
In France, the disproportion between catholics and protestants is much greater than in Great Britain; yet the plan of
an established church has been dispensed with. All sects are
placed upon an equal footing. But, as government makes
provision for the clergy, the change can only be regarded as
one step, though a very important one, toward the complete
dissolution of the connection between church and state.
The catholic church was mainly instrumental in building up
our modern civilization. If it became corrupt, it was in con.
sequence of the absolute supremacy which it attained. To
prevent the like corruption from visiting the protestant church,
there is no way but to accord equality to all sects.
But the revolution in Scotland is in a particular degree fitted
to engage the attention of the statesman as well as of the
religious man. The opinion has been general in Europe, that
the people were no more capable of taking care of their political than of their religious interests. If the experiment in Scotland succeeds (of which no one has any doubt), the notion will
very naturally insinuate itself into the minds of all enlightened




CHAP. Ir ]       OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               701
men, that self-government is not impracticable in political any
more than it is in religious affairs.
I have heard persons of great good sense insist that the
voluntary principle was nugatory in its operation, so far as
regarded the choice of the clergymen; that there is no congregation in America, in which the nomination is not determined by a very few influential members. But the knowledge
which these members have, that it is in the power of the congregation to overrule them, will forever prevent any abuse of
their influence. It cannot happen, as in Scotland, that ministers highly offensive to the congregations should be thrust
upon them, and thrust upon them  because they were thus
offensive.
Popular education is another of those public interests upon
which America is likely to exercise an important influence
upon Europe. Perhaps no material changes will be made in
the plan of instruction. But the true idea of popular education
is, that the system should be administered by and through the
people, as well as for the people. In other words, the management by the people is itself a chief element in the scheme of
popular education.
America affords a practical illustration of the close connection between education and government. But it does so, because the former is throughout of a popular character. Whenever monarchical government draws to itself all authority, and
establishes a complete system of centralization, the good which
was intended for youth is in great part undone for men. If
the system of popular education never can be complete until
free institutions are introduced, this is an argument for and
not against their introduction.
What we ordinarily term a plan of popular instruction is
one adapted to the minds of youth; but, if this is not followed up by a system which confers independence of thought
in after life, the faculties and knowledge which were acquired
at schools and academies will become inert and fruitless. The
governments of Prussia, Denmark, and Holland, may continue
their well-devised scheme of education for an indefinite period;
but if their youth, on entering upon the world, are unable to
make application of their knowledge, they can never become
as enlightened citizens as the men of New England and New




702              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [I30I0 IV.
York. It is not improbable, however, that the system of education prevailing in these countries will gradually change the
political institutions. One of them is already converted into
a constitutional government. And there are very clear symptoms that both the others are on the eve of becoming so.
America is above all others the country of private associations. These societies had existed elsewhere before, but they
were never applied to such an infinite diversity of subjects as
in the United States; and they were almost invariably connected with some sort of influence in church or state. In
America, they are altogether of a popular character, and are
consequently both more numerous and more effective than ixn
any other community. They supply the want which the minl
feels for the employment of its faculties after the schools are
left; and the discipline which they impart helps to prepare,
men for the theater of political life. Associations, religious,
benevolent, political, literary, and industrial, abound in every
state. They may be regarded as bulwarks for all time to come
against the corruption of the manners, the usurpations of the
government, and the decay of popular liberty.
If I desired to contrive a plan by which individual freedom,
and the general interests of the people, might be easily conciliated with the just authority of the government, I would set
about the formation of private associations. Government is
never so able to exert and to maintain the influence which of
right belongs to it, as when the citizens voluntarily submit
themselves to a discipline, the effect of which is to spread
knowledge, industry, and benevolence throughout the land.
The present has been termed the age of licentiousness. It less
deserves the name than any preceding age. Nor would it ever
have been so characterized, if the venality and vice which
exist were not seen in contrast with so many and such striking
monuments of benevolence and morality. These associations,
which are fast springing up in every country, are alone sufficient to redeem the age from the imputation. Doubtless, they
will never exterminate vice and ignorance, but they will assist
mightily in setting bounds to them.
We need not inquire whether the notion of popular associations has been borrowed by other countries from America. At
the present day the spread of an institution, the application of




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               703
it to new and unthought purposes, is much more important
than the question where it originated. The diversified forms
which these associations have assumed in the United States,
and the multiplied advantages which have accrued from them,
have rendered them popular abroad, have indeed produced a
profound impression upon the European mind. Mr. Pitt succeeded in suppressing a debating society in London, at a time
when such societies existed in every town in America.
The example which America has set in endeavoring to make
peace the permanent policy of the country, is destined to exert
great influence upon the European communities. There is no
more unequivocal proof of a sound and healthful condition of
society, than a general repugnance to warlike pursuits. This
state of feeling indicates many things:
First. The existence of habits of reflection among classes of
people who were before suppose4 to be deficient in that quality.
Second.'The prevalence of more exact notions of justice and
morality, than have usually been popular.
Third. That the population are so addicted to the pursuits
of industry as to render war incompatible with their plainest
interests.
The war which has just burst oat, may seem to contradict
these views, but it affords complete illustration of their truth.
For never in the history of any nation has there been so deep
and so general a manifestation of public feeling in opposition
to military pursuits.
The war was sprung upon the people when they least expected it. It was a false step in politics, soon to be retrieved, and
never again-to be repeated. Nor would the contest have continued one month, if peace could have been procured. But
being commenced, and overtures of peace being refused, it did
not strike people generally that there was any other way of
prosecuting it than according to the old-fashioned plan, of inflicting heavy blows upon the enemy in order to bring him to
terms. The Americans have been so long inured to the arts of
peace, so unaccustomed to wearing a military armor, that they
not unnaturally prosecuted the war on the same principles
which have been followed by other civilized states. But what
I wish particularly to notice is, that the conflict has only existed seven months, and already an entirely new system of




704             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
operations is proposed. This is to abandon all notions of an
offensive war, and even for defense; to occupy the line assumed, as the boundary between the two states, and to concentrate
the small military force which will he necessary, in that direction exclusively. This plan is even proposed by a military
man, who has displayed the greatest genius for war, and whose
ambition and interest would seem to consist in prolonging the
contest. It is one of the most signal proofs I am aware of,
how completely the character of the soldier in the United
States is swallowed up in that of the citizen. The plan is a
fair index of the genius and dispositions of the American
people. It has made a deep impression upon men of all parties
and all classes, and will afford instruction in any future difficulty in which the country may be engaged.
I know no spectacle more sublime, than was witnessed during the pendency of the Oregon controversy: the presentation
of addresses from all parts of Great Britain, to the American
people, in favor of peace. Mr. Pitt, and his immediate successors, exerted themselves to make war the habitual occupation of the people.  At the very same period, the United
States were earnestly engaged in maturing a scheme of administration which should render peace the settled and inflexible policy of the country. This system had never before been
pursued by any civilized nation. And I cannot help thinking,
that when the fruits of this policy were distinctly seen in the
unparalleled prosperity of the United States, it exercised very
great influence upon the European states. The Pitt policy
has lost ground. It is not merely considered vicious, but
what is sometimes of more consequence in what concerns the
manners, it has fallen out of fashion. Peace societies in England, Scotland, and America, made the noblest exertions during the late difficulty, to maintain peace. It may be said that
the masses, the substantial population in both countries,
leagued themselves together with a sort of tacit understanding, that their respective governments should be withheld
from going to war.
It is not difficult to understand the cause of the great influence which America exercises upon Europe; it is equally easy
to understand the way in which it operates. When we learn
that more than one hundred thousand Europeans annually




CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               705
arrive in the United States, we know that the unoccupied
land is not all that constitutes the attraction; we know that
the noise of American institutions has gone abroad, that
their influence has spread over millions, who avail themselves
of every opportunity to take shelter under the shade of those
institutions. I do not perceive that these people ever show a
disposition to cling to the habits and prejudices amid which
they were reared; but on the contrary, that the feeling is one
of congratulation at being delivered from their influence, that
the most substantial and intelligent among them fall in with
American notions, and lend a ready and cordial support to
American institutions. I know, then, that the influence is on
one side; that it is America which acts upon Europe, and not
Europe upon America.    ~
The channels through which this influence finds its way are
so numerous, that it would be difficult to count them up.
There are probably two millions of persons in the United
States, who have relatives, friends, or correspondents in Europe.  If we had access to the epistolary communications
which constantly pass between them, and could read the
vivid and yet simple picture which is frequently drawn of
American institutions, we would be able to form a more just
and complete idea of the power which they exercise than in
any other way. This would be sufficient to solve the mystery,
and to let us understand, not only why such crowds are drawn
to the American shores, but why so deep an impression is made
upon the population which remains behind.
The commercial correspondence is necessarily immense; nor
will letters upon business be written without very frequently
affording an insight into the curious machinery by which so
wide an arena has been opened to man's exertions, and such a
mass of unfettered industry has been set in motion. This
species of correspondence only serves to confirm the speculations and conclusions contained in letters written professedly
to impart information; and Europeans very naturally put the
question to one another, —-sometimes in a whisper, sometimes out loud,-why, if so great prosperity and so much
public order are the fruit of free institutions in America,
the same institutions may not be made to work equally well
in Europe, since Americans are only Europeans, or of Euro45




706             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOKI IV.
pean descent. No other example of self-government is to be
found, and the obvious inference is, that it is the institutions
which have made them what they are. But as soon as the
people of the old world begin to interrogate one another,
althongh it should be only in a whisper, as to the causes which
have given birth to this new form of society, it is clear that
they have placed themselves under an influence from which
they cannot afterward escape. That an important change has
been produced in the mode of thinking of Europeans, on all
those questions which pertain to the social organization, is, I
think, certain. The precise amount of influence which will be
exerted upon the political institutions it is impossible to calculate.
America is also made known to the European world by books
of travels. Within the last twenty-five years, travelers to the
United States have been incomparably more numerous than
at any preceding period. The greater part have beeni persons
of enlightened understandings, and the most enlightened are
precisely those who have done most justice to American iustitutions. At the head of this class, at the head, indeed, of
the European mind, stands De Tocqueville, who, like Plato,
visited a foreign land with the single view of seeking instruction, and who, to the fine genius of Plato, unites the severe
analysis and calm observation of Aristotle. With. powers of
generalization absolutely unrivaled, in the department of political philosophy, he seized the clue to American institutions,
and taught Europeans to view them in a totally different spirit
from what they had been accustomed to. He taught them
that those institutions were neither to be slighted as something gross and familiar to the common apprehension, nor to
be viewed as a startling parodox in government. Writing for
Europe, not for America, he felt the weight of the task which had
fallen upon him. He readily conceived that although ancient
institutions were not to be shaken to the ground in a day, yet
that a by wise, skilful and delicate survey of his subject, mingled occasionally with doubts as to the absolute unexceptional
character of American institutions, truths of which no one
could be directly persuaded might be gradually and profitably
insinuated into the minds of all. This work has spoken with a




CHIAP. vj.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               707
weight and authority which belong to none other, treating of
the institutions of a foreign country.
American works have contributed to the influence which is
exercised upon Europe. Although these works for the most
part, are not addressed to the philosophical mind, they are
calculated to have a wide circulation among the general run of
readers. Works, historical, statistical, and economical, afford
a clear insight into the working of American society. They
are easiest of apprehension to general readers, and yet open
an unlimited field of inquiry to profounder understandings.
There are certain pauses in the history of the human mind,
when it leaves off philosophizing and speculating for a season
in order to recollect itself, and to set in order the vast pile
of materials which have accumulated in the interval. The
age prior to Bacon's was one of those periods; and this is
another. The revolution wrought by that great man in the
mode of philosophizing has laid open a vast range of inquiry
in physical science; and this enlargement of the bounds of
physical science, has communicated an impulse to all other
branches of knowledge. It has shaken all, and yet perfected
none. An infinity of new views is perpetually crossing the
mind, without time being allowed for arranging them and
binding them together as a whole. The literature and philosophy of the present age, eminently tentative in their character, and superabounding in materials for thought, make it
probable that we are on the eve of an intellectual revolution,
similar to that of the seventeenth century. The superficial
character of tbe literature which prevails in America, and to
some extent in Europe, sometimes dealing in matter of fact,
and sometimes venturing upon speculations the most mysterious and fanciful, may be only the prelude to that revolution.
I believe any one who pays close attention to the character of
mind of a very numerous class of readers, both in Europe and
America, will find that there is something besides ennui, or
the mere desire to gain a respectable share of information,
which is at work; and that even where the surface of society
gives evidence of nothing positive, there never was a period
when the human mind was so deeply stirred.
The rank which the United States has now attained, as one of
the three great powers of christendom, has invested American




708             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [0BooK IV.
institutions with that sort of prestige which gives title to unquestioned influence abroad. A nation, no more than an individual, is proclaimed great until it is able to move the will as
well as the understandings, of others. The great danger is,
lest the will should run away with the understanding, and
that a nation untrue to itself should engage in acts of external violence, inconsistent with its own prosperity and with the
welfare of mankind at large. America has hitherto avoided
this snare. Peace has made her both powerful and prosperous;
nor is it possible for her to continue to uphold free institutions,
unless peace is her cardinal policy. Occasional interruptions
there may be; her ascendancy will soon be such as to place
her beyond the reach of these, if she holds a strict guard upon
herself. What I most desire to inculcate is, that peace, as the
habitual policy of the country, as the policy which it of choice
marks out for itself; is indispensable to the enjoyment of genuine freedom, and to the maintenance of that great influence which it exercises upon Europe.  An individual does
not strengthen his moral and intellectual nature, in order to
give full play to the lower appetites. No more will a nation
do so, which is mindful of its true interests. The utmost
amount of power which a community is able to acquire is
never more than enough to set in motion the springs of improvement within, and to dispense the blessings of civilization
to its own population. So that the influence of a nation abroad
is never so great as when it is least intent upon asserting it,
and when its whole efforts are directed to the development of
its own resources.
In surveying the changes which have taken place in the
laws, manners, and social organization of some of the European states, it is impossible to say how much is due to the
separate influence of America. It is very remarkable, however, that they have all been crowded into the space of the
last fifty or sixty years. Even in the absence of any definite
facts on which to hinge, the presumption would arise, that
America has come in for a large share of the influence which
has produced these changes. Certainly, the European commonwealths were on the advance, when the American frame
of government was established. For the growth of industry
had given an impulse to knowledge, and the spread of knowl



CHAP. vIIJ        OF FPREE INSTITUTIONS.               709
edge was step by step, lifting the bulk of the population to a
higher level, and making men somewhat better acquainted
with their rights and interests. I will not quarrel with the
European reader (if any such there should be) who believes
that there is exaggeration in these pages, confident, that after
some reflection, he will recur to very nearly the same views,
and that what he at first regarded as exaggeration, will only
be viewed as an effort to render more distinct, truths which in
substance are correctly set forth.




710             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
CHAPTIER  VIII.
ULTIMATE DESTINY OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.
IN contemplating the great improvement which society and
the art of government have undergone in very modern times,
the inquiry instantly presents itself: is there a probability that
this improvement will continue, to what extent can it be carried, and have we a reasonable assurance that it will be permanent. These are problems of great importance, and require
a distinct and clear examination. There is this great difference between physical and political science. In the first, all
we can do is to observe and collect the facts, and to elicit the
principles which govern them, and which are constantly the
same. In the physiology of society and government, the facts,
and therefore the principles, are subject to variation. But this
gives rise to a double progress in the last. In physical science, every department has made rapid strides during the last
century. This improvement consists in a more thorough and
exact acquaintance with the laws of the physical world. If
the improvement which took place in political science, were of
the same character, and none other, all the accession which it
would have received, would consist in a more thorough and
orderly reduction of the principles which had governed society up to that period: for all the improvement in physical
science, consists in a more complete knowledge of physical
phenomena. These phenomena existed always precisely as
they do now, but they were not perceived and thought out; so
that we were ignorant whether they existed. But in the political world, the facts, the phenomena, are not always the same;
they have varied greatly, although these variations are themselves limited within certain bounds. Beyond these they cannot go, in consequence of the radical sameness of the human
organism, at all times and all places. But this variation is
something entirely different from anything which occurs in




CHAP. VIIr.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.              711
the physical world, and it gives rise to what may be termed a
system of secondary laws of political society. The physical
world also, has a set of primary and secondary laws; but the
difference consists merely in the character of inferiority of the
last, to the first; for the phenomena on which both depend,
existed always precisely as they do now. Bat the phenomena
on which the secondary laws of political society depend, did
not exist always, but have been revealed to our observation in
very modern times. Hence the double improvement, that is,
the improvement additional to that in physical science, which
takes place in political science. Not only is an improved
method introdnced, but an improved state of facts, on whlch
to found an improved method corresponding with it. The astronomy of Newton, and the physiology of Leibig, lay open to
our knowledge phenomena which always existed, but which required thought and penetration to bring to light. The political work of De Tocqueville reveals not only new laws, but an
entirely new class of phenomena. Indeed, when we speak of
the improvement of society and government, we convey this
idea.. No change, no improvement, which we knGW of, has
taken place in the phenomena and laws which govern the
planetary motions; all was perfect from the beginning. But
a visible and marked improvement has taken place in both
the social and political organization, within a hundred years.
The chief obstacle to a successful investigation of this subject, is the belief that unless some state of very high perfection is attained, all efforts to reconstruct society and government, so as to render them stable and permanent, and to endow the last with both the ability and disposition to rule
wisely and justly, must be abortive. In considering the limit
to which society may go, we must at the, outset, discard all
idea of any radical and fundamental change in the character
of men, and boldly avow, that this unchangeable character of
human nature is the inevitable consequence of the infirmity
and defects, physical and moral, of individual man; for as
society is made up of individuals, and all its institutions are
administered by them, everything must partake of that infirmity and those defects.
We may figure to ourselves two ends as worthy of attain.ment in political society. 1st. The elevation of the whole




712             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
population to a very high standard, in the scale of physical,
moral, and intellectual being; or 2d, the elevation of so considerable a Dumber, as to ensure their own good conduct, and
as a consequence, the wise and upright government of those
whose advancement beyond a certain point is never attained.
The first is impracticable; all schemes to bring it about must
be abortive, for they would prove in the end inconsistent with
the existence of an elevated class in any part of sOciety. The
steady and regular augmentation of the middle class, may ac
complish the second. The diffusion of property and knowledge will capacitate them for this position; and the conviction
which long and painful experience may force upon every other
part of society, that that class have the fairest title to govern,
will clothe them with that weight and respect which are so
necessary in order to exert a legitimate influence over other
men. This will take place, not in consequence of any optional
or arbitray determination on the part of the poplation, but in
consequence of certain laws of human nature, which operate
steadily and invariably. "If universal suffrage, (says an enlightened writer) were introduced this day into England., not
a single peasant would be elected to parliament."  We may
conceive of a society subsisting so long under the influence of
these elements, that even the lower classes may have common
sense and judgment sufficient to discern, that to break it up
would make shipwreck of their interests.  For reflection,
which is a prominent characteristic of the superior classes in
the present age, has increased greatly among the lower. It
must also be borne in mind, that although the last are inferior
in all the advantages of fortune to the first; they perform a
very important part in checking them, and restraining their
actions within certain limits.  It is doubtful, if in the imperfect condition of our nature, which requires restraints from
above and below, we could succeed at all without this instrumentality. If the reformation I have referred to, a reformation falling infinitely short of any utopian plan, is deemed
chimerical, we have only to compare the condition of every
European country in the first fourteen centuries, with what it
is at present. The same proportion of advancement would
give us a state of society, as eligible as I have supposed.
First. The faculties, propensities, and passions of men, are




CHAP. VIII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               713
on an average, the same which they always were; and yet the
influence of civilization is such as to produce very perceptible
differences in their actions, at different periods. It might be
supposed that the offspring of those who have lived in a
highly civilized society might after several generations have
their physical organization so much changed as to give rise to
different propensities, or to propensities so materially modified, as to amount nearly to the same thing. We know nothing
of the laws which govern our physical organization; but observation and experience militate strongly against the supposition, and seem to prove that these propensities can be no
further altered, than by giving them different objects on which
to expend themselves, Domitian, Nero, and Commodus, as
well as Trajan, and the two Antonines, were descended from
ancestors born in a highly civilized society. The conflict betwcen our selfish and social propensities, the constant predominance of the former, in consequence of our feeble condition,
which causes nearly the whole of life to be spent in devising
means or improving even our physical state, are a great obstacle in the way; for the selfish propensities, the propensities
which are personal to us, are as necessary to the advancement of the individual as the social propensities are to that of
the race. And although among great numbers, the passions
may be gratified otherwise than in acts of cruelty, rapacity,
an insurrectionary spirit, and lawless disorders, there will
always be a large body, increasing with the advance of civilization, who will be depressed to a very low point in the scale,
and whose dispositions will be marked by great ferocity.
In order to test the practicability of elevating the whole
population to a high and equal level, for it would be of no
importance to place all on a level, unless that level imported
a highly eligible condition; we will suppose that all the land
of a country were now to be divided equally among individuals, and that the proportion allotted to each should be two
hundred acres; for less would be insufficient to rear and educate a family. The plan would be encompassed with all sorts
of difficulties. Ist. The common sense, sagacity, judgment,
and habits of industry of different men, are exceedingly different even in the homely occupation of improving their physical condition. 2d. Even if the country were already cleared,




714             NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK IV.
the demand for labor to cultivate it would far exceed the supply. For by the supposition, all the men above twenty-one
are proprietors; nor would it be possible to establish any
other rule, as our design is to elevate all, and we cannot effect
this, unless all, at the period of manhood, are permitted to
enter upon life with an equal facility of bettering their condition. Each individual, then, has a tract of land given to
him, and at the outset, he finds himself totally unable to cultivate more than the tenth part of it; for the great majority*
of laborers, at present, are above twenty-one, and none of
them could be hired to perform work for others, when they
had more of their own than they could attend to. But we
will for a moment suppose that the experiment is successful.
The comfortable circumstances in which every one is placed,
will give a prodigious stimulus to population. The unmarried, who would have waited until they could, in the ordinary
course of things, acquire the means of subsistence, will now
marry. Numerous families will be the consequence: the land
will be partitioned among a greater number, and in a few
generations, the division of the soil will be carried to such an
extent, as to mar the whole scheme, and to forbid all idea of
elevating the whole mass to the station which was contemplated. Society will retrograde, and will continue to do so,
until it reaches the lowest point in the scale. Two circumstances will contribute to hasten this downward progress.
The number of children of different families, will be very unequal. This difference will occasion large possessions to be
engrossed by some; while others are confindl to a meagre
subsistence, or become paupers. The skill, industry, and aptitude of individuals for their calling, will also be very different, and this will contribute still more to hasten the retrograde march. The original division into proprietors and
laborers, will be re-established, and we shall neither secure to
each an equality of property, nor succeed in lifting all to a
high level. When we speak of elevating the whole population, we must mean morally, and intellectually, as well as
physically. I have supposed two hundred acres to be the
least quantity which would be required to attain this end. No
one would have the means of educating a family, nor the opportunity of devoting a considerable part of life to the acqui



CHAP. VII.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               715
sition of knowledge with less. But I have made no mention
of the other classes, merchants, manufacturers, artizans, etc.,
whose agency is so necessary to attain anything like a high
state of even physical civilization.  I have separated one
thing from another, in order to render the analysis more
striking and complete. Without the intervention of those
classes, every one would be obliged to build his own house, to
manufacture and make his own clothing, to construct all the
tools and implements of agriculture; which would absorb so
much time, if time were possible, as instantly to arrest all
progress, and to blast the fruit of what had already been
made. Or if we suppose the separate existence of those
classes, all idea of a distribution of property is at an end. It
is physically possible, for the moment, to make a division of
the soil, but we cannot make a division of the qualities which
are necessary to the prosecution of other departments of industry. We cannot decree that the skill and dexterity of A
and B, acquired by a long apprenticeship to a calling, and
sharpened by natural aptitude and sagacity, shall be distributed to C and D. The reader will fill up the outline with the
numerous suggestions which will crowd upon him, confirmatory of the view I have taken. Our nature is as it is. The
constitution of society is the result of that nature, and we
must make up our minds to submit to it, if we would do anything valuable and useful to advance it.
To what extent may we consider the beings who now live in
the most civilized societies? Great Britain and the United
States, for instance, as radically the same, as endowed with
the same appetites and propensities as those who acted a part
in the proscriptions and massacres of Mlarius and Sylla, in the
atrocities of the French revolution, and in numberless enormities and cruelties which disfigure the history of England,
down to the revolution of 1688. Although nothing of the
kind now appears on the surface of society, it does not follow
that the same passions do not exist. They may be disguised
or diverted into a different channel, and yet be ready to break
out, if any unhappy conjuncture should occur to give a violent
shock to the institutions. For it is clear, that unless our
structure is radically altered, those passions and propensities
must be found at bottom the same. In a state of profound




716             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
tranquillity, there is but one way of ascertaining the fact;
and that is by studying and analyzing the characters of men
in private life, and as far as we are able, in public life also.
To pursue this inquiry vigorously, it would be necessary to
draw aside the curtain wbich conceals the most secret thoughts
and transactions; so secret, that if any application were made
to individuals, it would be in the power of each, and that with
the greatest plausibility, to exclaim against such unjust imputations. But the philosophical inquirer must not be-deterred,
by such difficulties, from at least stating the fact, and leaving
it to individuals who have sufficient acuteness and observation
to make the application to all but themselves; and in this
way, already so familiar to every one, we shall succeed in
comprehending all the individuals of the species; the problem
will -be solved with the unanimous consent of all, but without
any knowledge, on their part, of the result. He is the true
friend of mankind who pursues the truth fearlessly; and he
may be sure he has attained it when the assent which is given
to his deductions is a secret, not an avowed one. Every one
who has the skill to unravel these subjects will be convinced
that the same heart-burnings and envyings which have ever
existed, exist now, and that these malignant passions have
been the sole cause of all the cruelties, massacres and judicial
murders which pollute the page of history. The annals of
other countries and other times wear a foreign and antiquated
air. They are regarded as the recital of strange things, and
the reader has neither the disposition nor the ability to make
a direct and immediate application of what they record to the
men and transactions of their own times.
I must now refer again to what I have said of our original
structure. Our nature is made up of qualities which are eminently social, and also of qualities which are selfish, that is,
personal to ourselves. If the last are not the foundation of
the first, they open free scope to them, and render them more
pleasurable and agreeable than they otherwise would be. The
laws of society, then, are like the laws of the physical world:
the same centripetal and centrifugal forces reign over both,
and by their united operation, both worlds may be maintained
in harmony. But there is this difference: the selfish propensities are much stronger than the social, and unless they can




CHAP. VIII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                717
find a sufficient number of objects on which to exhaust themselves, they almost invariably interfere with the other set of
qualities.  They are stronger than these, because they are
necessary to the existence of the race, which the last are not.
The procurement of the means of subsistence is felt as a, first
and imperious want, without which all other wants would be
valueless, because they could not be gratified. This is the
first occasion on which the order and harmony of society is
disturbed. But many besides partaking of the qualities of the
lower animals, is also an intellectual being; and this, although
it affords an opportunity for conciliating the two rival qualities of his nature, opens in reality, a greatly extended arena
to the operation of his selfish propensities. For the gratification of all those wants, which to subsistence adds comfort,
to comfort affluence, to affluence respect, to respect influence,
and to influence power, are for the most part selfish, or personal to ourselves. And yet the gratification of all these is
necessary to the perfectionment of the individual, and to any
considerable progress of society itself. But the exceeding
difficulty of maintaining a just equipoise between these two
contending principles, will be evident to every one who reflects
upon our feeble and imperfect condition. Our selfish wants,
both the higher and the lower, are so urgent and so multiplied,
that it seems as if they must forever obtain the mastery, and
encroach more and more upon our social being.  All the
efforts to gratify the wants I have enumerated, and many
subordinate ones which I have not enumerated, are directed
without any immediate regard to the welfare of society. All
of them are like instincts, acting without premeditation: or
if accompanied with this in some individuals, lending additional force to them.
It is very true, that a state of things may be supposed, in
which this constitution of our nature would not be inconsistent
with the maintenance, in their utmost vigor, of the disposition which lead men to society. Society is itself a collection
of individuals. If each member succeeded in providing for his
well-being, both physical and moral, all, that is society, would
attain the same end; and the greater the intensity with which
each one prosecuted his own interests, the greater the probability that the last end would be accomplished. For, by the




718              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
supposition, the faculties of all would be directed in channels,
the united influence of which would make up the happiness
of all.
But this state of things, although there is a constant tendency to approach it, can never be realized. The difficulties
in the way are so numerous, that it is impossible to enumerate
themn all. A few are sufficient. In the first place, life is commenced at a period when the faculties are immature, when
there is a total want of experience and observation, and when
the passions are so strong as to threaten to swallow up the
whole being. Mistakes of all kinds are constantly made so
common as never to be noticed. And yet these are incurable,
in consequence of the inherent defects I have referred to. 2d.
Even in the adult, the faculties, both intellectual and affective,
are extremely imperfect, while at the same time, there is the
greatest imaginable inequality among different individuals.
3d. The constant increase of the population multiplies these
difficulties, and renders them more obstinate. The more favorable the condition of the society, the easier the means of subsistence; the stronger is the impetus given to the population.
And as this increase is gradual, and the inconveniences it produces, takes place silently and unobservedly, men are, by little
and little, familiarized to them, and ultimately forget the high
standard of comfort which they once presented to themselves.
This fails to operate as a check upon a further increase. Reflection has ever exerted a very imperfect influence in this
matter, although there are very perceptible differences among
different peoples. But these differences are insufficient to prevent the greatest inconveniences and mischiefs among all;
and when combined with the other causes to which I have
alluded, they present the most formidable obstacles to the
realization of that utopian scheme of society, which is so easily
imagined precisely because it is so unnatural. All the circumstances I have referred to, spring from certain inherent principles of our nature, which can only be changed by a radical
change in our organization.
Can it be matter of surprise, when millions of beings are
collected in one community, that there should be an infinite
deal of jangling, disorder, and confusion, and that the good
order of society and the wholesome control of government




CHAP. VIII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                  719
should be perpetually threatened. The great majority of these
beings, in a country the most happily favored, are struggling
for a comfortable subsistence. This sets in motion a host of
passions, which, by this straitened condition, are disarmed of
the power to do any immediate mischief, but not sufficiently
so to prevent society from being infested with a multitude
of domestic evils. When we come to the classes above, not so
numerous, and yet formidable enough, we perceive the same
defects of character, the same inequalities, the same passions
and propensities, but all greatly hightened in consequence of
the more complicated struggle in which they are engaged.
The constant interference of so many, and such imperious
desires, prevents society from assuming that fair aspect which
it would be so delightful to look upon; and, at first view, it
seems as if it would be better if we were unable to form the
conception of such a picture, if our reason did not assure us
that it is only by having an ideal standard before us, that we
are impelled to make efforts to attain what is really practicable.
In the preceding observations, I have represented human
nature as it is. I have supposed our wants, desires, and propensities to be a necessary part of our structure, and as having
been implanted for the wisest purposes; to lead us, in the first
instance, to even physical exertion, and afterwards, to the employment of our higher faculties. I have spoken of the existence of different classes of society as inconsistent with the
scheme of perfection which we may form to ourselves, and yet
as indispensable to the maintenance of a condition much raised
above that of the lower animals, as indispensable, in fine, to
the maintenance of civilization in any part of society. But
when to the wants and appetites of the class which is struggling for subsistence, are added the more numerous, and the
more complicated wants and desires of the superior classes, all
armed with a greater degree of strength and influence than
among the inferior ranks, we must not be surprised if society
never exhibits a perfectly quiet aspect, nor if it is sometimes
torn by the most bitter and cruel dissensions. I have represented every thing as depending upon certain fixed principles,
which may assume different forms among different people, as
operating unerringly within certain limits, although these




720             NATURE ANID TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
limits are not every where the same. This it was necessary
to do, in order to answer two inquiries proposed in the commencement of this chapter; to what extent can social improvement be carried, is it possible to effect the elevation of all to a
high and uniform level. 2d. Although the advancement of all
to a high point in the scale of physical, moral, and intellectual
excellence is impracticable, may not the social and political
organization, with or without our contrivance, be so ordered,
as at least to insure a wise and equitable government of society? This is the only alternative remaining. It is entirely
distinct from the other, and must be constantly kept separate
from it, otherwise we shall be unable to extricate ourselves
from the confusion of ideas which two things compatible in
theory, and yet incompatible in practice, will occasion. Up
to a certain point, the two are closely connected. The wise,
prudent, and upright administration of public affairs depends
upon the moral and intellectual elevation of the population;
but it cannot depend upon the equal elevation of all. If it did,
our destiny would be most stern indeed; for we should be
unable to avail ourselves of a contrivance visible in every other
part of creation; the making compensation for defects in one
part, by the possession of counterbalancing advantages in another. I venture to lay it down as a maxim in political philosophy, that the institutions may be skillfully contrived, and
wisely and happily administered, although all classes are not
wise and virtuous; nay, although a large proportion are
lamentably deficient in these qualities. The principle alone,
may so outrun the growth of those principles which are calculated to elevate and improve the race, and to call out its good
qualities, as to retain a great number in ignorance, poverty,
and bad habits; while there may be a larger number than has
hitherto existed in any known country, on whom those incentives will act powerfully and invariably. In this way only, can
we gain a glimmering of light in the clark path we are pursuing,
and be prevented from tormenting ourselves with the belief,
that because all manner of good is not attainable, none is worth
pursuing. If we are able to succeed to the extent which I
have indicated as practicable, the benefit to the class which
is excluded from the advantages of property, intelligence, and
education, will not be less than to the more fortunate classes.




CHAP. VIII.]     OFP PREE INSTITUTIONS,               721
The former will be governed with more wisdom and prudence
than is practicable under any other scheme of society.
The actions of men depend upon two causes; the faculties,
of one kind or another, with which they are endowed, and the
circumstances which are external to them; including in the
last, not only the physical world, but other intellectual beings,
together with the institutions, public and private, in the country
where they reside, and even those of other countries, wherever
they are capable of exerting an influence upon them. On the
joint influence of these two causes, depends the whole conduct
and behavior of men. Diminish the influence of one, and you
alter, or annihilate the influence of the other. This law prevails among societies, governments, and nations, as well as
among individuals. It is impossible to conceive that it should
be otherwise, since all actions imply something beyond us,
affecting our faculties, and, at the same time, affected by them.
In general, the fact is admitted by every one; it is the precise
appreciation of facts, and the rigorous application of them
which is so difficult to be attained.
Thus a vast deal depends upon the circumstances in which
an infant society, growing up to be a great nation, is placed:
its position on the globe, with respect to climate, or its position in relation to other nations; the state of the country in
which they are placed, the period when its members began to
congregate as a society, the institutions which had previously
shaped their conduct, and the causes which originally led to
their formation. As an individual, born to-day in Sparta or
Athens, will be very different from what he would have been
if born two thousand years ago, a society growing up in one
country, at one period, may be very different from what it
would have been, if planted in another country, and at another
period. This will be the case, after making every allowance
for the remarkable sameness of organism which prevails among
the human species. That organism is not an unit, but is a
collection of the most diversified faculties: and hence results
the apparent anomaly, that notwithstanding the sameness in
the groundwork of the human character, the actions of men
are so different. If powerful incentives, or uncontrollable circumstances are applied to some faculties, while others are acted
upon feebly, the conduct of the individual will be very different
46




722             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
from what it would have been if the state of the case had been
exactly reversed; if those faculties and propensities which are
powerfully stimulated and developed in one direction, lay dormant, and those which are feebly influenced, were very strongly
acted upon. In the same way, the aptitudes, capacities, and
habits of some nations may be shaped by outward circumstances,
very different from those which surround other nations; and
their life and destiny may be very different. When the institutions of a country, happily circumstanced, are matured and
consolidated, they become a cause external to other nations,
and may powerfully influence their conduct.
There is no knowing to what extent this part of the machinery of society may be carried, in modifying the character
of individuals and nations. The field within which it may
operate, is very large, although we may be assured that the
fundamental organization of our nature forbids all idea of
making men gods. The general principle is this: if strong
incentives are applied to call out the better qualities of human
nature, they-will be called out among great numbers; and if
the incentives to vice, idleness and disorder are also enfeebled, a still greater number will be powerfully acted upon.
The whole scheme of punishment proceeds upon the idea that
the actions of men may be rendered different from what they
would be, by the presentation of motives, which are external
to them: not merely that the conduct of those who have already
violated the law will be changed, but that a much greater number will be deterred from mischievous habits and abandoned
courses. And when, in addition to this, the circumstances
which surround individuals and societies, are such as to present strong positive motives to the formation of good habits,
there is not a probabillity, but a certainty, that they will be
formed among great numbers. All this is true if men are endowed with good as well as bad qualities, of which, I suppose,
there will be no question. The beginnings of society in the
United States are very remarkable. If we compare them with
the early history of every other country, ancient or modern,
the contrast is very striking. The first centuries in the annals
of Greece, Rome, France, Great Britain, &c., exhibit a scene
of eternal warfare, domestic, civil, and national. The circumstances which surrounded the people of the first country, were




CHAP. VIII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               723
very different from those which surrounded the people of the
four last. The first were born at a period when civil and religious liberty ran high; they planted themselves in an empty
country, remote from the theatre of European contention, and
free from any disturbing causes within. The land was uncultivated, and habits of industry and frugality were imposed
upon them; their private institutions were not subjected to
the control of any authority without, and for the first time in
the history of the world, organized a system of common schools.
They were so remote from England that she meddled very little with their political institutions, the members of which they
were composed, were so much on an equality that they established a republican government. The effect of all these causes,
acting from without, was the formation of certain habits, which
became a new cause, and an additional incentive to further
improvement. Domestic government was maintained with
great strictness and purity. The offspring of people thus
trained, were, of course, more susceptible than themselves to
external influences; they obeyed the discipline prescribed to
them; a character of industry, energy and intelligence, has
been handed down from generation to generation; and from
these elements, has arisen a nation, in whom the possession of
these qualities in a much higher degree, is not only conceivable but practicable, is yet perhaps more remarkable for them
than any other.
To the question proposed in the commencement of the chapter: Will the improvement which has taken place among all
civilized nations continue to advance? the answer must be,
that it will. No nation has ever been known to recede, unless
some overwhelming calamity from without has violently arrested its progress. The principle of progression is the rule,
that of retrogradation the exception. The reason why this is
so, is obvious. Progress implies something higher, and therefore something desirable. It would not be something higher
unless it were also desirable. This ensures at any rate a certain tendency at all times to advancement. But the gratification of the appetites and propensities, in all stages of society,
is also desirable, and this undoubtedly will disturb the regular operation of the first principle. But it is only where these
appetites and propensities are in excess; for the moderate,




724              NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
that is the natural, gratification of them is not only consistent
with the development of the higher part of our nature, but
contributes to it. On the other hand, the gratification of our
higher faculties, to any degree, is not detrimental but serviceable to society. Hence, where the circumstances by which individuals are surrounded, are at all favorable, there is always a
disposition to leap forward. If they are alike favorable to all,
this tendency will be general; if only to a part of society, it
will take place in that part; and it will be correct to term
Great Britain, France, Germany, as well as the United States,
highly improving societies, although this improvement is not
the same in all parts of their populations. Nor can it be
doubted that if it were carried, not to some imaginable point,
but to a degree perfectly practicable, institutions might be established in those countries, where they are not already, which
would provide, not during a few generations, but permanently,
for the wise and equitable government of all classes. This is
the only reply we can make to another question proposed in
the opening of the chapter: To what extent may social and
political improvement be carried? It cannot be carried to
anything savoring of perfection; and yet it may be carried
indefinitely, because it may take an indefinite time to reach
the point which is attainable. It may be carried so far at
least, as to insure a steady, impartial and judicious administration of the government; and this will be an inestimable
acquisition, and a reasonable compensation for that radical infirmity of our nature, which forbids all idea of attaining a state
of great perfection.
With regard to the great problem, what is to be the ultimate destiny of free institutions, we can only offer probable
conjectures, not certain opinions. In the body of this work,
I have represented these institutions as eminently favorable
to the development of the faculties of the greatest number of
men, and to the advancement of both civil and political freedom. Apprehensions of their instability will perpetually cross
the mind. But these I have described as a wise provision inserted in our nature, and as contributing mightily to ward off
the very mischiefs which are apprehended. The stronger they
become, and the greater the number who entertain them,- the
stronger will be the resisting force of society, the greater its




CHAP. VII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                725
ability to arrest disorder of all sorts before it has gone to extremities.
But first, it is remarkable that in proportion to the amount
of popular freedom which has been breathed into governments
which are not republican in their structure, the more stable
they have become, and the more prudent and circumspect has
been the conduct of all public functionaries. This is remarkably exemplified in the case of Great Britain, a government
which neither commanded the undivided force of its people,
nor ruled wisely and judiciously until a large share of popular
liberty was engrafted upon it. This change dates from the
revolution which placed William III. on the throne, and it fias
become more and more marked every reign since. There is,
indeed this mischief attending a government whose institutions are partly free and partly not free, it is rendered preternaturally strong, and is able to postpone further reforms, which
would be advantageous at an earlier day. I do not intend to
pronounce an unqualified opinion against mixed government;
but it should be regarded only as a temporary state, and not
as political writers have viewed it, as the standing model
of government. The same remarks may be applied to the
Ftrench, though their correctness there, will not be readily
perceived. There can be no doubt, although the executive, in
the remarks which I have made in respect to the English government, is styled emperor, which seems to denote the exercise of monarchical authority in its greatest plenitude, that
the government is administered with vastly more prudence
and discretion, than under the reigns of Louis XIV. or Louis
XV. This is due to the reforms which were executed between
1789 and 1799, which still exercise immense influence upon
the opinions of the people, and the conduct of the' government. Nor can it be doubted that the empire is only a provisional state, and will sooner or later be succeeded by a constitutional government, in which public and private rights
will be more firmly established than they were between 1815
and 1848. The revolution of 1848 is an illustration of all I
have said. The difference between it and the revolution of
1789, is entitled to the deepest attention. In the last, the
moneyed men, merchants, and principal tradesmen, and menof letters, were the chief actors. In 1847, it was the reverse:




726              NATURE AND TENDENCY               [BOOK IVo
and this can only be ascribed to one or other of two circumstances-either the abuses were not near so hideous and
alarming, or the frightful calamities which were brought to
every one's door during the first revolution, sunk so deep into
the minds of men, and exercised their reflection so powerfully
that they recoiled from the commission of any atrocities and
cruelties. In either event, it is evident that the general manners have undergone a great regeneration. The middle class
in Paris is now the predominant class, and it understands its
interests, infinitely better than when, as in 1798, it was just
emerging into importance. It is composed of two hundred
thousand proprietors, rent holders and tradesmen, and of one
hundred thousand clerks, the interests of all of whom are
mutually interwoven, and who have so just a sense of these
interests as not to dare to jeopardize them, if it is possible to
avoid it, and yet exert so decided an influence upon the government as to constrain it to act within the bounds of a constitutional monarchy.
II. Free institutions best fall in with the natural desire of
improvement. They afford scope and opportunity to a greater
number to lift themselves in the scale of physical and intellectual improvement. It is not merely because they afford a
wider arena to the exertions of all: this is a necessary condition, but it is not the moving spring. Such institutions are
fatal to the authority of prejudices and opinions, which spring
up in a society, legally divided into classes, and which impose
an invincible spell upon the faculties of men.  It was not
until after the French revolution, that industry became popular in France. There were some symptoms of a tendency in
this direction in the time of Louis XYV.* These only concurred with innumerable other causes to hasten the revolution.
They were too feeble to render industry really popular, until
the authority of opinion was completely demolished by the
thorough reform in the groundwork of society, which afterwards took place. It was not until then that the gothic system of corporate bodies of tradesmen, endowed with exclusive
privileges, was abolished, as well as the regular course of apprenticeship, companionship, etc.  These hung like a dead
* Reign of Louis XV, by De Tocqueville.




CHAP. VIII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                727
weight upon the industry of France, not only confining it
within the smallest possible compass, but imposing, for centuries, an universal belief that the settled order of things could
not be departed from. It was not until after the English revolution in the time of Charles 1st, that a like change was
effected in the opinions and habits of men. Then, for the first
time, it became customary for the gentry to bind their sons as
apprentices to the merchants.*  This at once rendered industry both popular and fashionable, and from that period, dates
the prodigious impetus to popular intelligence and popular
power in that country. The complaint now is, that industry
has become too fashionable; t that both nobility and gentry
have entered into competion with the middle ranks of society;
that their fortunes are embarked in commerce, in vast manufacturing establishments, or in enterprises not less costly for
the improvement of their estates. In the reign of Louis XV,
the only kind of industry which was, permitted to the impoverished noblesse, was that of blowing glass. This did not
imply the use of their hands; and it was manual labor which
was supposed to degrade the man. The objection that industry has become too fashionable, discloses one of its chief
merits. Although in very many instances the higher classes
in Great Britain, France, Germany, Italy, etc., do superintend
the employment of their capitals; in a greater number, they are
placed at the command of the classes below them. They thus
contribute to fructify and invigorate every branch of industry.
But the chief advantage of this consists in its introducing
habits of order, economy and industry among an idle and turbulent aristocracy, as well as among an idle and vicious populace. It has aided in melting down differences of opinion
which were apparently irreconcilable, and has caused the
higher classes to partake of the qualities of the lower, and
the lower to partake of those of the higher. If England ever
becomes a republic, that is, if the principle of representation
is carried into every department of the government, the new
form which industry has assumed, foreign as it may seem to
the subject, will be principally instrumental in bringing it
about.
i Clarendon.                 t Sismondi.




728              NATURE AND TENDENCY                [BOOK IV.
III.  Free institutions cause a greater number of beings to
be civilized, than could possibly be the case otherwise. This
follows from the preceding remarks. The rise of a powerful
middle class is the most striking fact in the history of modern
society. But the whole meaning of the fact is contained in
the observation that free institutions extend civilization to a
greater number of individuals than any other form of government. The more thorough the civilization of a country, the
more completely it pervades every part of society, the more
orderly and contented will be the population, the more singleness of purpose will be imparted to the government. This
results fSrom the greater harmony among the elements of which
society is composed.  It is only because the public cannot
agree anmong themselves, that one man, or a few men, are able
to seize the supreme power. A close league among' a coruparatively small body, is sufficient to overpower the efforts of a
disunited m7ultitude. This effect of a more or less thorough
civilization of all parts of society, is entitled to great attention.
It is greatly promoted in the first instance, by, the freedom of
the institutions; but more than all other things, it contributes
ultimnately to give them  durability and strength. "I found
the crown rolling in a gutter, and only put it on my own
head," said the first emperor Napoleon; nor could it be otherwise, when the lawlesessness of the feudal system first, and the
uncontrolled despotism of kingly authority afterwards, crushed
every germ of popular improvement. There is at present a
strong middle class in France, not strong enough to rule, but
strong enough to influence the notions of the government. It
is that class which has consented to the elevation of another
Napoleon; and by so doing, may be considered as saying to
him: there, is a body of anarchists in our midst, small compared
with the body of the population, but firmly leagued together.  We
cannot caford to be ever on the watch, and ever under arms, to resist their machinations.  The mere title of emperor will operate
as a spell upon the imaginatwions of these beings.  In order to
pursue, ~unmolested, our private occupations under the title of emperor, we make you the chief of police of this troubled country,
and thereby design to augment the constabulary force of the kingdom. If you abuse the trust, we will abandon our occupations
and expel you. This you know, and your knowledge is, humanly




CHAP. vTIm.]      OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.                 729
speaking, a guarantee for the fulfilment of that trust. Such is
the unhappy condition to which a nation is subjected when it
is partly free and partly not free.
IV. A greater degree of reflection is instilled into men of
all classes, and their conduct is consequently more cautious
and prudent. It is reflection which enables men to control
their appetites and passions, to exercise self-command, to foresee the mistakes they will inevitably commit, if they pursue a
certain line of conduct. This office it performs, not from any
persuasion on their part that such conduct is abstractly right
and proper, but from a perception of the consequences which
will ensue, if they follow the impulse of passion and prejudice.  The mere diffusion of property diffuses reflection.
The possession of property is a something, and that too of no
inconsiderable importance, on which the affections, hopes and
aspirations of the great majority of men in a republic are
fixed. Their interests, and not any imaginary qualities of
mind, render them in the first instance reflective, and, by and
by, reflection swells these interests to a greater magnitude,
and causes them to be guarded with still more jugment and
discretion. We are thus delivered from the necessity of sup-posing that men must possess very elevated qualities in order
to be reflective. To be so in a very high degree, they must
possess these qualities; but they are not demanded in the
ordinary vocations of life; they are not necessary to the bulk
of mankind in their conduct, either in private, or public life.
These considerations, together with many others, in the preceding part of this work, to which the reader will recur, afford
a reasonable assurance for the perpetuity of free institutions.
But we cannot speak with absolute certainty. An excessive
growth of the population alone, may disappoint these expectations. I say may, for it need not necessarily have this effect.
China is more fully peopled than any other country on the
globe, and yet the institutions, established twenty-five hundred
years ago, have subsisted without alteration to the present
day, and it has enjoyed profound tranquillity during a vastly
longer period than any other country.* It is not because the
form of government is regal; for all the European kingdoms
From 1650 to 1850.




730             NATURE AND TENDENCY             [BOOK IV.
have been torn with dissentions, and in the most cruel wars,
during the same period. The high standard of comfort, to
which the people of the United States have been habituated,
may repress the excessive growth of the population. We see
this exemplified already. The average age of marriage in this
country, is twenty-five; in Ireland, it is twenty. The Irish
have been familiarized to a very low standard, and they enter
recklessly upon marriage, without any prospect of being able
to maintain a family. The mere habit of living under free
institutions, contributes powerfully to fortify their spirit. The
Americans are the only people who have been able to make a
fair beginning; and that is all-important. They have never
lived under any other than free institutions: * they have no
prepossessions in favor of any others; nor are there any materials for the construction of them. But it may be inquired,
whether the rule of universal suffrage, will be always adhered
to? Although the numbers, and importance of the middle
class should always secure to them the ascendancy, will not a
formidable body of proletarians, in the process of time rise up,
and constantly disturb the regular movement of the government?  I have already suggested, that the American people
have long been familiarized to a limitation of the right of
suffrage, not merely in the large cities, but in hundreds of
smaller towns, throughout the country. The principle is then
already recognized, as one which is both just and practicable.
It is so recognized, because it has been ordained by the majority in those cities, and towns; and the same species of power,
the majority of the people in the states, may give it a wider
application. The will of the majority is a wonderful sedative
to the disturbances of society. The only reason why the legislatures of the states do not carry the rule of limitation beyond
their municipal governments, is that the middle class is so
numerous, as to render the action of any other comparatively
harmless. But I predict, that if the time ever arrives, when
the danger to the institutions becomes imminent, from the
banding together of the lowest class, the right of suffrage will
be limited. The maxim of equality, is a great regulative, but
" The colonists did pretty much as they pleased, although they were an
appendage to a monarchy.-ADAMs' DEFENSE.




CHAP. vIIi.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               731
not a constitutive principle, of society; a distinction of great
importance in the political world: when it ceases to perform
the first function, it ceases to be a principle in the construction
of the government.
It is not probable, that the hereditary principle will be ever
introduced into a country where free institutions have taken
deep root. The materials for founding an order of nobility,
will be wanting: the prejudices against it will be deep, and
difficult to eradicate, and the natural aristocracy of the country
will be so numerous, and powerful, that they cannot be brought
to agree in vesting the supremacy in a close body. An oligarchy only, would be practicable: but this, of all the forms
of aristocratic government, is the most difficult to establish.
It has never succeeded to any extent worth mentioning, except
in Venice, where the natural aristocracy were only as one in a
thousand to what it will be in the United States. Take away
the overgrown estates of the English nobility, and you annihilate them: destroy the illusion, which has grown up during
a long tract of time, and which has persuaded the nation that
it is an order superior to any other, and you undermine its authority: render them as numerous as the great landholders of
America, and you introduce the democratic princple into the
body, and fritter away its power. It has been said, and with
great justice, that the people themselves may be persuaded of the
expediency of establishing one or other of the artificial forms of
government: that viewing the political institutions as ordained
for their advantage alone, they may consider monarchical, or
aristocratical government,, as on the whole, best adapted to
promote their interests. This has been said in countries, which
have never known any other form of civil polity, and in which
immemorial usage has so long swayed public opinion, that it
is very difficult to form any other notions. Opinions are sometimes more difficult to be eradicated than institutions. All I
mean to say is, that where the course of human affairs has
drawn the opinions of men in an opposite direction, where the
manners, the laws, the distribution of property, and the form
of government, have all partaken of the genius of republican
government, it will be exceedingly difficult to lay a foundation
for aristocratical, or even mixed government to rest upon.
There is great difference between permitting such a govern




732             NATURE AND TENDENCY              [BOOK IV.
ment to stand, when it is already existing, and calling it into
being, in opposition to inveterate and deep-seated opinions.
The difficulty is as great, with regard to an hereditary chief
magistrate, as with regard to an hereditary nobility. Kingly
authority, is undoubtedly founded on an illusion of the imagination. This illusion may be of infinite advantage in some
periods of society, when it is necessary to give something like
unity, to the discordant materials of which it is composed,
and to control the imaginations of men by a supreme ilmagination. But if in the first rudiments of society, and for centuries after, opposite opinions have prevailed; if more homely
faculties have been cultivated, at the expense of the imagination, the illusion vanishes, and the foundation on which we
would build is taken from under us. The question is no
longer, is regal government expedient; it is, is it possible.
The idea of an elective, is still more incongruous, than that
of an hereditary monarchy. The condition of society, which
imposes a king as a necessary evil, presupposes a state of
things, entirely at war with the exercise of popular power. It
is for this reason, that the elective principle may in a monarchy, be employed in the choice of representatives, but never
of the prince himself, without introducing greater disorders,
than those attempted to be cured.
We must then discard all idea of lifting the whole body of
the people to a very high standard in the scale of physical,
and intellectual improvement: but the social organization,
may at least be carried to such a degree of improvement, as
to insure wise institutions, and a prudent, and judicious administration of public affairs. And when time, and inveterate
habit, have confirmed these institutions, they may acquire' a
self-existing authority, which will perpetuate them. The problem  of government is not at all different from the problem
which is presented to every individual in private life. He is
born into the world, without any choice on his part: from the
commencement of adult age, he finds himself surrounded by
inconveniences, physical, moral and social, which he did not
create, and which are too wide-spread and obstinate, for him
to control. After a few years experience, he is brought to accept this, as something which is inevitable; and as it is inevitable, he does not recoil, but falls upon a plan of life, which




CHAP. VIII.]     OF FREE INSTITUTIONS.               733
will enable him to overcome these obstacles, and to avail himself of the good which is invariably mixed with the evil. The
enjoyment of liberty in its highest degree has opened a great
volume of experience to the American people; and this experience, not the possession of any natural qualities, superior to
those of other people, may bring them to see, that the manifold inconveniences, which beset society, are of precisely the
same character, with those which they encounter in private
life: that they are indestructible, but not unmanageable, and
that the plainest maxims of common sense, powerfully urge
them to cling to the eminent advantages which they possess,
and to venture upon no untried paths.
















THE
OF
Ir:N TWO VOLXTIES.
VOL. II,








LET TE RS.
CHILLICOTHE, March 3.
You ask me to write you my opinion with regard to the
present state of public affairs, a subject which is well calculated to awaken reflection, and to sharpen all our faculties of
thought in endeavoring to find some clew to the strange events
we are witnessing. But I know not what to write; it is often
as difficult to unravel the present, as it is to predict the future,
and perhaps more time is necessary in order thoroughly to
comprehend both the meaning and the consequences of preseiit
events. I suppose that the true view to be taken of this matter
is precisely that which will be taken one or two hundred years
hence. The men of those days will take very little notice of
the tumultuous passions and the crowd of interests which are
the moving springs of society now: they will only look to certain results which, although dimly seen now, will make up the
whole interest of our present history for them and their posterity. But we cannot attain this advantageous view, which
would enable us to look down with so much impartiality, if not
indifference, upon the stormy passions, the deep dissimulation,
and the secret machinations which we witness. All which we
can do, therefore, is to hazard some conjectures which shall not
be deprived of all reasonableness, and which shall at least have
the merit of sincerity. It appears to me that the present
crisis announces a change which is very common among nations, when they have increased greatly in riches, population
and power. But the change in this instance is remarkable in
one part of the nation. The struggle is neither more nor less
than an effort to displace the political power and influence
which have hitherto been wielded by the South and to deposit




4                       LETTERS.
it with the North; in other words, to accommtodate the political to the social power. Now there is nothing unnatural in
this; on the contrary, it is the natural and inevitable consequence of certain laws of society, which operate independently
of politicians and legislators. We might as soon attempt to
(lam up the ocean, as to prevent this result from taking place;
nor if we could, would it be desirable, for it would perpetuate
the heart-burnings and jealousies which now exist between the
two sections; whereas, nothing in the long run contributes
more to calm irritation, and to produce quiet and contentment,
than to lodge the political influence in the quarter to which
nature has destined it. All the commotions and turbulence ot
feeling which have manifested themselves during the last
twenty years, are to be attributed to this struggle for influence. Here a difficulty meets us. If the political influence is
absolutely transferred to the North, may not the effect be to
confirm and perpetuate the two geographical parties, which
have been gradually forming during the last twenty years, and
to annihilate all national parties, and thus, instead of spreading tranquillity over the country, to produce more discord than
now exists. This undoubtedly may be the case, for although
great quiet prevailed during the supremacy of Southern influence, yet this influence was in a great measure gained and
maintained by the assistance of several of the Northern States,
and at a time when national questions absorbed the public
mind, and stifled or concealed geographical parties. I present
the view in the strongest light, however, for it is by no means
a necessary consequence that the political ascendency of the
North should perpetuate geographical parties. To suppose so,
would be to run counter to all the principles which ordinarily
govern human nature, and to shut our eyes to some of the
most important lessons which history teaches us. The great
difficulty grows out of the struggle for the ascendency, and
not out of the ascendency itself. As long as the struggle lasts,
there will be bitter dissensions. But when it is over, there
may be the same disposition to submit, to the consequences as
there is on so many other occasions, both in political and private life, to submit to what is inevitable, because it is natural.
Now, I am not by any means certain that this will be the result,
and that we shall be able to witness an experiment so impor



LE TTERS.                        5
tant and interesting. A sudden tempest of feeling, when men
get beside themselves, may cause the die to be cast, and thus
precipitate everything. But if such should not be the case,
feuds and controversies will assuredly grow up among the
people of the North themselves, not of so alarming a character
as those which now exist, but sufficient to moderate sectional
asperity, and to cause a party in the North, whether in the
majority or minority, to side with some party in the South.
For whoever heard of any extensive and populous community
-who ever heard of even any considerable body of men, which
was not troubled by its own internal dissensionu:.  This must
forever be the case, so long as human nature is what it isthat is, so long as that nature is half social and balf selfish:
independently of which it may then be clearly perceived that
the real interests of the two sections, which are now los; sight
of in the din of parties, are not diverse. but identical, and that
these point to a continuance, and not to a severance of the
Union. For that our system of government possesses a selfcorrecting principle, I think will admit of no doubt. It was
the fruit of reflection, it has been maintained by reflection, and
it has contributed to diffase habits of reflection among all
orders of men, to an extent never before known. I know that
these terms-habits of reflection, and real interests of the two
sections, have become so common and familiar as to lead many
persons to believe that they have no virtue or meaning. But,
although the words themselves may have no virtue, the things
which they denote may have a great deal; and I (lo not feel
myself called upon to discard any term, however trite, if it
imports something important-especially in a new combination
of circumstances. It is these habits of reflection, and this
strong sense of interest, which constitute the self-correcting
principle of our institutions. The mere machinery of what is
ordinarily termed the government, would by itself be inoperative and powerless. But these habits are quickly comr
municated tothe government, to the government to the agents who administer
public affairs, and then the mutual action of the people upon
the government, and of the government upon the people, adds
tenfold strength to them, gives them a fixed residence in the
community, and converts what was before matter of opinion
into a fundamental principle of our institutions. Our history




6                       LETTERS.
is full of examples to this effect. I need not go back to the
period when -Mr. Jay's treaty was negotiated, and when placards were posted up in various parts of the country, threatening disunion, and even the raising of an hostile army; nor
to the scenes of 1798-9; nor to the bitter discontent produced
both in the North and South by the war of 1812. Our history
since is full of similar examples, which are not so striking
only because the self-correcting principle of our institutions
had, year by year, been acquiring strength, and exerted a more
powerfully preventive influenee in warding off disasters. But
I acknowledge that all the means in our power may be ineffectual, and that before the year is out, a fatal blow may be
struck. I remarked to you when I last saw you, that I considered the affair at Harper's Ferry as the most portentous
event which has occurred in our history; that it was a mere
speck in the horizon, but a speck big with the future-not so
much because it was the daring outbreak of a band of outlaws,
headed by a cold-blooded assassin, as because such an atrocity
could not have been executed, or conceived in any highly civilized society, unless there was a secret conviction of sympathy
anrl countenance from some considerable number of men; and
this appears to have been the case. In reading the accounts
of the unseemly and revolted proceedings in some parts of the
country, representing those miscreants as a noble band of
patriots and martyrs, one might fancy himself present at the
rejoicings at Rome and the solemn Te Deum in St. Peter's commemorative of the massacre of St. Bartholomew's. But it is
not the countenance given by even a considerable body of men,
which renders that event so ominous and alarming. A considerable body o(f men may themselves be discountenanced
and confounded, provided the great majority of the people in
the States where they reside are sound and possess the sense
of justice in a high degree. But such is the organization of
parties, that, things which would never have been attempted,
or coulltenanced by the great bulk of the people, are not always,
after tlhey are committed, visited with an unequivocal condemnation. If those acts have been perpetrated in the name
of a parts-, by men who belong to that party, and only
carry to extremes the opinions of that party, a profound
and equivocal silence is frequently observed with regard to




LETTERS.                       7
them. The firmest and most enlightened men are at first
staggered by their apparition, but great numbers shrink from
taking any step which might seem to compromit the party.
A party is an association of men, having certain definite opinions and a fixed organization, and if, among these opinions,
one-is recognized as the master principle which gives vitality
to the system, an open and unreserved condemnation of those
who have carried this opinion even to the most preposterous
extremes is considered as doing violence to this organization.
This is the perplexing dilemma in which we are now placed.
There are two ways of escaping from it: the one by a dissolution of the Union, which would be greatly to be deplored at
the present time; the other by a conviction'on the part of the
enlightened, and a feeling (which is often as unerring as a
conviction) on the part of the masses, that the events which
are transpiring are to be regarded, when taken as a whole, as
only symptoms of the struggle on the part of the North to
acquire a political influence commensurate with its immense
growth in population, wealth and intelligence, and that when
the balance, which has inclined to one side for so long a period,
is shifted to the other, things will no longer look so dark and
forbidding, public affairs will resume their accustomed tenor,
and conspirators against the institutions of any part of the
Union will be driven to their hiding places. If such an event
should take place it would be the most glorious triumph of
which free institutions have ever been able to boast. A ray
of light from the North, the South and the West is in reality
dawning at the present moment. The vast assemblages at the
North, in which a wisdom and eloquence worthy of the fathers
of the Republic were displayed; the calm yet earnest conferences of men of each party among themselves; the frank and
sincere avowal, even amidst the stormy debates of December
and January, which were made by many Southern members,
that Union was greatly to be preferred to Disunion; the visit
of the legislators of Kentucky and Tennessee to the Legislature
of Ohio, an event unparalleled in history; the calm and circumspect course pursued by Virginia, the arbitress of the South
-all denote that the good elements of our nature are at work,
and that whatever the issue may be, these elements can never
be extinguished. For if disunion should actually take place,




8                      LETTERS.
we should then be compelled to accept it as an event following
in the natural march of our history —altogether premature in
time, and yet obeying those regular laws to which society is
everywhere subjected, however imperfectly we may discern
them. But this lands us in the field of conjecture, a subject
too dark and dangerous to be meddled with when the immediate interests of a great people are at stake. It must be left to
the men of the twentieth century to determine that problem.
TO WILLIAM GREENE, Cincinnati, Ohio.
CHILLICOTHE, Sept. 25, 1860.
I closed my last letter abruptly, because I approached the
subject of a dissolution of the Union, and I hastened to drop
the curtain upon the degraded scene of our affairs. We now
stand face to face with the danger,-which was removed we
did not know how far; but we must not be disconcerted by it.
They alone are prepared to encounter danger who thoroughly
comprehend it. The two great national parties which once
exercised so healthful an influence- upon public affairs, by
their mutual efforts to serve the whole country, are now fairly
converted into geographical parties —a term of deep omen in
a confederate government, since it indicates that the passions
threaten to overwhelm the reason, in a country where, of all
others, reflection, prudence, and the sense of justice should
forever be the governing principles. The discordant feelings
of the North and the South, which formerly manifested themselves in a generous rivalry, have gradually acquired strength
during the last thirty years, and now possess a sharpness and
malignity unusual with our people, and which it is deplorable
to look upon.. A constant intercourse, whether by way of
travel, or in consequence of extensive business transactions,
which generally contributes to remove prejudices and wipe
away asperities, seems now to have roused them into fresh
activity. The greater the intercourse, the more it seems to
bring out the sharp points in the character of each, and thus
constitutes a perpetual challenge to hostility. There has always appeared to me to be something very remarkable in




LETTERS.                       9
political dissensions generally. They count for very little in
the sum of human happiness, or unhappiness. All the real
sources of private content or discontent lie entirely beyond
them. If we were to catch up a hundred among the thousands of individuals who walk the streets or travel the highway, and inquire of them what was the true cause of their
hopes and anxieties, we would find, even in the greatest din
of parties, that they were centered upon anything but party
differences; although, abroad, their whole conversation may
be turned upon what is called politics. The thoughts of all
are perhaps thoroughly engrossed by their domestic interests,
their trade or profession, the means of living, the bettering
or the maintaining of their condition in life, and a multitude
of things connected with these. But in the course of their
avocations they meet with embarrassments and are chafed by
disappointment; and as they are not free to talk about these,
their feelings find a vent in the political disputes of the day.
The reason why Shays instigated the rebellion in Massachusetts in 1784 was because he was a desperate debtor. Nearly
every one has corroding anxieties of one kind or other, although a small number are desperate debtors, or would embark in civil war.
It is remarkable that the heart-burnings of the people of
the North ~.nd South have kept exact pace with the growing
prosperity of both. The last thirty years has been a period
of unexampled prosperity. Never, at any period in the history of any country, have all the elements of well-being and
social comfort been scattered with such profusion; never have
any people advanced with such rapidity in the acquisition of
wealth. This, as is usual with such feeble and short-sighted
creatures as we are, has stimulated inordinately the passions
and propensities, and produced unbounded confidence, presumptuousness and recklessness in both sections of the country. Each feels itself strong enough to confront any danger,
and would rush into it almost at the risk of an unnatural and
disastrous civil war. And if they should do so, what then
will be the consequence? The parties, after inflicting upon
each other and upon themselves as much injury as they can,
will be suddenly called back to a sense of the impotence of
their efforts. Calamities, of one kind or other, will fall heav



10                      LETTERS.
ily upon individuals and whole classes. Those passions which
would have set the world on fire, will be subdued by a period
of great adversity; for adversity is sometimes one of the
greatest blessings which can be bestowed upon nations, as
well as individuals. Each section will ultimately return to
the quiet pursuits of peace, with no other advantage than
what is derived from the scourge which they have inflicted
upon themselves. It may be that it is the design of Providence, by some great revolution at this very time, by passing
us through the fiery ordeal of a terrible adversity, to give a
rousing shake to our population, to arrest for a time the inordinate growth of our physical civilization, and thus to bring
out the higher qualities of our nature. For I can easily conceive, that the irritated feelings which now exist may become
so strong as to drown reflection for a time, precipitate the dissolution of the Union, and produce a conflict between the two
rival confederacies which will derange all industrial pursuits,
demoralize our population, and trample under foot all the
glorious remembrances of the past.  But this cannot last.
In all the civil revolutions which have ever occurred, the passions have never ultimately triumphed over reason. On the
contrary, the countries which have been the theaters of the
most violent disturbances have afterwards settled down into
a quiet and orderly condition. The passions ate fitful and
transitory; reason is not, and therefore always masters them
in the end. It is of no consequence whether this is directly
brought about by the feebleness of the passions, which wear
themselves out in presence of a stronger principle, or by the
sense of interest. Our interests are wonderful provocatives
to reflection, and are so closely connected with all we do or
think, that they become our constant guide, and, often, our
most enlightened counselor. But I would say, that if there is
any one quality which can be singled out as denoting the
highest state of civilization, it is the possession of reflection
by the people at large, to such a degree as to avert mischief
in the first instance, instead of being compelled by the unavoidable course of events to turn it to account after it is
already upon us.
And the circumstances in which our country is placed are
such as to encourage, in a high degree, the cultivation of this




LETTERS.                      11
important quality-important in everything we would know,
but supremely important whenever we are called upon to act.
The extent of our territory is such as to present every variety
of events: the transmission of information, being only by
piecemeal, keeps alive the interest, and the delay which occurs
before complete and satisfactory information is obtained, compels every one to think, whether he will or not. In a comparatively small territory, the people may be said to be witnesses
of everything which is transacted, and are ready to rush to
action while their feelings are heated: in an extensive one,
the passions are moderated by the difficulties they have to
encounter, and reflection shows itself more or less among men
of all degrees. Not less favorable is the increasing density of
of our population. Opinions are filtrated through so many
minds, and are so much modified by the various temperaments
of individuals, and by the necessity each one is under of accommodating his opinions to those of others who have an
equal right to be heard, that no common ground in one and,
the same party can be found to stand upon, without much
yielding and concession. Evident symptoms of this are discoverable in the abandonment by one of the great parties of
its policy with regard to foreigners, and in the change which
is now taking place in the opinions of the same party relative
to the power of a territorial government. And if to these
considerations we add the existence of a middle class, a class
habituated to reflection, and immeasurably larger than in any
other coantry, we need not despair of the republic, even
though the agitations of society were greater than they are.
I confess that I have been greatly startled by some events
which are now transpiring. I allude to the introduction of
secret missionaries into the South, whose vocation it is to disturb the relation between master and servant, and to interpolate in the New Testament the injunction, Servants murder
your masters, in place of the beneficent precept, "Servants,
obey your masters"; and this- I suppose, on the plea, that
the New Testament cannot stand up amidst the light of the
nineteenth century, but is abrogated by the superior-light they
have shed upon our age.. And this insane preaching has been
actually followed by the conflagration of towns, and by deeply-meditated plots to massacre the inhabitants. It is impos



12                     LETTERS.
sible, with every allowance we may make, not to see a direct
connection between these acts and the inculcation of " the
doctrine of the higher law," as it is termed in the jargon of
these accomplished adepts. There are no maxims so mischievous as those which conceal a detestable sentiment under
the semblance of a religious homily. They are so slippery
and ambiguous that they almost elude analysis; and they are
therefore the last iresort of those who are addicted to that
left-handed wisdom commonly denominated cunning. This
notion of a higher law, which is to trample under foot all
those instrumentalities by which men are ever led to the recognition and reverence of either law or morality, is not of
recent invention, but was proclaimed by that foul monster,
Fouqier Linville, in order to palliate his atrocious massacres
of men, women and children in the west of France, during the
revolution of 1789. Infinitely more to the taste of the great
body of the American people, of all parties, I feel assured, is
the sentiment of the celebrated Scotch patriot, Fletcher of
Saltoun - "I would not do a mean action to save my country,
but I would lay down my life to serve my country." This is
clear, frank and intelligible; infinitely better fitted to animate
and strengthen the unsophisticated feelings of mankind, than
those equivocal, hobbling maxims which would be instantly
rejected if they were not concealed under a cloud of rhetoric.
It has been said with great truth that progress consists in the
development of order; but what kind of progress is that
which tends downward, which takes its stand upon the higher
law, a law higher than God or man, and which leads straight
to the gates of Pandemonium 
We must, then, make great allowance for the feverish excitement which prevails throughout the South, when not only
the most inhuman violence is offered to them, but when that violence is sought to be organized into a system. It has been said
that actions speak louder than words; but maxims, which are,
to be sure, couched in words, are often, when wielded by those
who have a certain kind of popularity, all powerful incentives
to the commission of the most flagrant iniquities. The South
most clearly asked for too much; but that is no reason why
we should, with the sword, cut asunder the knot, especially
when our institutions afford an infallible remedy for all mis



LETTERS.                      13
takes, and the preponderance of political power is so great on
the side of the North, that it has but to will in order to do.
The South have constantly insisted that the Territories, being
the common property of the Union, their people have the
same right to remove into it with their slaves, which the people of the North have to remove with their property. This is
an argument which at least seeks to address itself to the understanding, and is therefore entitled to attention. Its great
defect consists in not taking into consideration all the terms
of the propcsition: it is built upon premises which are only
half stated, and although exceedingly plausible, and even
true so far as it goes, is unsolid, like all other arguments which
proceed upon premises not broad enough to cover the whole
ground. It takes notice of the relation which the people of
the States bear to the Territories, but omits all consideration
of the interests of the people of the Territories. If the claim
of the people of the South is met by a superior right, the first
must yield to the last, as in all other instances where one of
two demands is clear and undeniable, when viewed separately
from the other; but the moment they are compared and examined together, its infirmity is disclosed. Now, all experience demonstrates that a community without slavery is more
thriving, more prosperous, and has a more promising future
before it, than one in which slavery exists. Nor does it become us, in order to answer some end of temporary and doubtful policy, to assume the mask of dissimulation and to deny
it. If, then, we are about to lay the foundations of an infant
commonwealth, it seems clear enough, if we have regard to
its welfare as the thing of paramount importance, that we
should exclude slavery from it. The first beginning, the first
rudiments of society, frequently determine the whole after
career of a people. It cannot be doubted that if the people of
the South were now for the first time engaged in the formation of their governments, and were free (as they would be)
from the agitations which now disturb the judgment, they
would not admit slavery. But having had it forced upon them
in spite of their remonstrances, nothing now remains but to
accept it as an institution which they can neither remove nor
palter with, and to resist every attempt from abroad to interfere with it. For the interests of both the white and the black




14                      LETTERS.
race, absolutely forbid emancipation. The experiment in the
British West Indies, although on an exceedingly small scale
comparatively, is a signal failure. The Island of Jamaica,
we are informed by an English writer, is fast returning to its
original barbarism. "All things which are lawful, are not
therefore expedient," is a principle which the wise statesman,
the Christian statesman, should never lose sight of. It was
well understood a few years ago, that Brougham, Russell,
Palmerston, and even the son of Wilberforce, deemed the
scheme of emancipation a failure. But the pride of opinion,
and the consciousness of having borne a part in a memorable
change of the laws, led the first to return to the views which he
had originally taken up. He who visits the negro settlements
in Ohio, and the negro villages on Southern plantations, cannot but be struck with the contrast. In the first, everything
appears to be in a state of nature; sloth, idleness and vice
constantly meet the eye. In the last, order, thrift and neatness are prevalent. In the United States, thousands of whites
have set out in life with an ax or a primer, and have conquered the wilderness.
Upon what then shall we rest our hopes, in the present critical state of our affairs? Upon the reflection, the good sense
of the people, and upon nothing besides. If that fails us, all
is lost; and it would be better to hide ourselves in the grave
than to grope amongst the crumbling ruins of the republic.
There was a period in every European state when the people
were regarded as a heedless, improvident, and unreflecting race.
This is no longer the case. Much less is it the case in our
country, where the distribution of property is more equal than
in any other community. The management of property, the
attention to its details, and the superintendency of the whole
as a system, constitute a species of education of no ordinary
value; for it teaches prudence, sagacity and industry, which
are the first steps towards reflection. It teaches these not only
with regard to our personal wants, but with regard to those
more remote interests by which the pursuits of individuals
are connected with the public weal. Our vast agricultural
population disseminates practical notions on all subjects, and
encourages habits of order and regularity; it may be said to
steady the state. The unexampled internal tranquillity which




LETTERS.                      15
has existed since we were an independent nation, is owing
chiefly to the industrial education of the people. Too much
has been attributed to our remoteness from the theater of European politics. The European states have been more convulsed by intestine dissensions during periods of profound
peace abroad than at any other time; and foreign war has
been a frequent resort, in order to withdraw a mutinous population from conspiracies and rebellion. There is a constant
tendency everywhere, in all times and in all countries, to deposit political power and influence with those who have a
stake in property. Unfortunately, in almost every one of the
European states, this class constitutes a very small proportion of the people. The political power is consequently condensed in a very small number. They are eminently conservative, but conservative of their own privileges only. With us,
also, the experiment has been made of building the institutions upon property; but the basis on which they rest is so
much wider, that a vast majority of the people is interested
in upholding them, and is conservative by instinct. It is not
left to the population to become reflecting because, in the abstract, it is so valuable a quality: they are rendered so from
the very circumstances in which they are placed, and we have
thus fastened their interests indissolubly to those of the common weal; so that if a dissolution of the Union should take
place, if even wild disorder should for a time prevail, this single principle may have power to reinstate everything in its
proper place. A disposition is often manifested by those who
are themselves not much addicted to reflection, to distrust our
institutionsas not possessing sufficient strength to encounter
a great emergency.  But to what quarter shall we turn to
mend them if they are defective? The chief charateristic of
the nineteenth century consists in a tendency everywhere to
widen, not to contract, the basis of popular power. That is the
goal to which the European states are marching with slow but
steady steps. Kings, in order to maintain the shadow of authority, are now obliged to yield an amount of liberty, which
one hundred years ago would have been deemed absolutely inconsistent with the- maintenance of government itself. We cannot, if we would, fall back upon the worn-out institutions of
the seventeenth or eighteenth centuries; and it is most cer



16                      LETTERS.
tain we would not if we could, since all our efforts in that direction would be mere shifts, and would only impede us in our
further progress towards both free and strong government.
If our institutions are a failure, it is certain that no man can
mend them, since they depend upon laws which no man has
power to overthrow. I have heard it said that if any of the
States should secede from the Union, the remaining power of
the confederacy would be insufficient to bring them back; and
this will perhaps be admitted. But who ever heard of dragooning the retiring members of a Federal Union back into the
Union. The right to withdraw is inherent in that form of
government. It exists, and should be universally recognized,
because it is a safeguard against civil war, and snatches from
us the temptation to enter into it. We should say to them,
Depart in peace; the nature of our connection is happily such
as to dispense us from using brute force in order to bring you
back. If you suppose that your condition will be better out
of than in this time-honored confederacy-the work of our
joint hands-so be it; and let our future rivalry only consist in
efforts, within our respective borders, to improve and strengthen
the foundations of civil and political freedom.
There are some things even in the ephemeral politics of the
day, (if anything can be called ephemeral,) which are calculated to arrest our attention; for all events, however fleeting,
have a cause, and whenever large bodies of men are implicated with them, they are sure to be connected with something beyond, which has a durable existence. The two great
parties which formerly contended for the mastery have been
dissolved, and four parties have risen up in their place. The
dissolution of old parties and the formation of new ones, often
has a favorable influence; and where parties are multiplied
the effect is doubly advantageous. It discovers reflection and
anxiety, and makes people less confident in their opinions, and
more indulgent to those of others; in other words, it puts
every one on his good behavior. Hence the last few months
have been characterized by a moderation and calmness unusual on the approach of a Presidential election, and which,
even if it should pass away, will have been highly salutary.
The multiplication of religious sects has contributed more than
all other human agencies to appease religious controversies.




LETTERS.                       17
It has banished the odium theologicum from  the Christian
world, uprooted the spirit of persecution, and diffused tranquility where before all was uproar and confusion. If it were
possible to multiply political parties to anything like the same
extent as religious ones, it would have the same influence in
appeasing political controversies. One of the singular events
which we witness is the organization in the North of a considerable party, advocating the pretentions of an exclusively
Southern party. It is a striking proof that the prejudices in
that quarter are not so bitter nor so general as was supposed.
For even though personal motives (and it would not be difficult to point them out) had great influence in organizing such
a party, yet that such motives should have overcome those
prejudices, and even vanquished the esprit du corps, is a convincing proof that those prejudices are not so deep-rooted as
some inflammatory harangues would persuade us. That men
should be more attached to the country of their opinions than to
the country of their birth, is not so surprising; but that they
should be more attached to the opinions of men in another region than to the opinions prevalent among their own lineage
and in their own region, is something very remarkable, and
even instructive, in the present complication of parties.
The absence of parties strictly personal, is another feature
in our politics. It is true that whenever an individual is considered as representing in a very decisive manner the opinions
of a party, personal feelings will be more or less mingled in
the contest, and the popular feeling will be strongly enlisted
in his favor. But this affords no idea of parties which are
strictly personal. Such parties make choice of individuals
solely from personal predilections, often of the most doubtful
character, and principles are subordinated to these. The consequence is, that political contests assume the character of a
deadly strife between rival chiefs and families. We are saved
from this deplorable calamity by the nature of our institutions, which balances popular influence against the pretensions of aspiring individuals.  There would be sometlhing
ludicrous, if there were not something highly instructive, in
the conduct usually observed by candidates who had the highest hopes, and perhaps even the best title to be nominated,
and yet have not been nominated by their own party. The
2




18           ~LETTERS.
unsuccessful candidate instantly submits, and even makes a
merit of promoting the interests of his successful competitor,
however he may hate him. This may be called want of spirit,
but even want of spirit may be the occasion of bringing out
some useful qualities. It at any rate protects us from acts of
violence and bloodshed, which would in no long time be
worked into the habits and character of our people.
I intended to give you my views on the probable future of
our county in the event of a dissolution of the Union; but I
still feel an unconquerable aversion to draw nearer than I
have done to that event until it is proved to be inevitable; and
no misfortune should be considered inevitable until everything
which should be done has been done in order to avoid it.
I do not know that what I have written contains anything
very new. Just thinking, after all, only consists in generalizing views, Which all the world apprehended before in detail.
I have endeavored, at least, to speak in the tone of one who
has not dared to be otherise than impartial.
To WILLIAx GREENE, Cincinnati, Ohio.




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
EVERY one will admit that this is the most perilous crisis
which has occurred in the history of our country. Everything
about us attests the fact-the disorder in the transactions of
trade, the shock given to all other industrial pursuits, the derangement in the affairs of private individuals, the penury and
want which multitudes of industrious workmen are beginning
to feel, and everything equally attests the feeling of trouble,
and dismay, the deep apprehension, which every one experi.
ences, as to what will be the issue of this unnatural state of
things.  The power of self-possession, the pride of opinion,
the determined adherence to party, may conceal these feelings
under a complacent, or even a careless exterior. But every
one learns to read the thoughts of his neighbor, and beneath
this exterior he can perceive a mind ill at ease, poignant feeling, vacillating thoughts and resolutions. The love of strong
sensation, so common to our species, may for a time dissipate
these feelings, for it seems to relieve the dull monotony of
peaceful life: but it is too deceitful an opiate to indulge in
long. Our misgivings are rendered more painful, instead of
being silenced, and we are ready to surrender ourselves to the
convictions of truth, if others will do so likewise. Will any one
stand up and tell us without fear, and without reserve, what
are his views, and what the genuine conclusions to which he
has been led? If any one does, that man will assuredly tell
us the truth; if he does, two or three may follow his example,
and then, perhaps, a great number, when all hearts and all
understandings will be gained.
The perplexing subject which now absorbs the public mind,
that which swallows up all others, is the dissolution of the
Union. This is no longer a thing in prospect, it is a fact accomplished; and nothing remains to us but to behave with




20        REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
that dignity, moderation, and wisdom, which are the true
guide in all great, and trying emergencies. It is for want of
these qualities, that so many miscarriages have occurred in
public affairs, and it is from want of reflection, and a clear
discernment of the signs of the times, that those qualities are
so feebly exercised. But by a just discernment of the signs of
the times, I mean a quick, and ready perception of the difference between those events which are transitory in their influence, and may therefore be controlled, and those which, having a permanent and durable foundation, cannot be controlled,
but may be managed and turned to a wise account. For it
would be a great mistake to suppose, that they who are placed
at the head of public affairs are masters of political events, and
can order and dispose of them  at pleasure. Government is
not the master of society; but society is rather the master of
government: and the great office of the last frequently consists in distinguishing between those things which it can do,
and, therefore, ought to do, and those which it can not do, except in appearance, and, therefore, ought not to attempt. In
the present conjuncture, for instance, the Federal Government
can not prevent the secession of one or more of its members; but it may, by a wise, and prudent policy, render secession harmless, calm the agitation of men's minds, and restore
the country to its accustomed tranquillity. This is the most
clear, the most simple, and the most beneficent policy which
it can pursue; any other will be fraught with unspeakable
mischief. But I have often observed in the conduct of public
men a strange, and unaccountable disposition to avoid the
plain and open path which lies before them, in order to do
something which will strike upon the imagination of others.
Like the surgeon, who wished for none but living subjects to
dissect, they make light of our sufferings, and what is sport to
them is death to us.
A remarkable opinion has been lately proclaimed-that the
members of a Federal Union have no right to secede, and yet
that there is no right to coerce theme,-that the Federal Government has a perfect right to the allegiance of the States, but
has no right to enforce obedience to its will. No maxim has
been supposed to be more firmly settled, than that where a
right to anything exists, a corresponding right to obtain it




REFLECTIONS ON THIE PRESENT CRISISI          21
also exists. The argument, as it is presented, is a solecism,
violating all the rules of sound logic, and therefore violating
all the rules of common sense. Hence another maxim of equal
force, that if the right to enforce a claim does not exist, the
claim can not be founded in right; and the obvious inference
would seem to be, that a State has a right to secede. The first
is a broken, and disjointed argument; the second is a connected and consistent one. But this is a question of too much
importance to permit its solution to depend upon the unguarded admissions, or the inconsequential reasoning of others.
That the parts which compose an aggregate community catl
not separate themselves from it, without the consent of all, is
very clear. Such a community supposes a defined and undividted territory, the territory inhabited by all the people within
it; and there is an evident inconsistency in supposing that
some of the people may be politically out of the government,
while territorially they are within it. Territory and government, where the community is an aggregate one, are corresponding and convertible terms. But this difficulty does not
exist where distinct, and independent communities enter into
a Confederacy. Each separate State is an aggregate community; its citizens, therefore, cannot withdraw their allegiance
from it in any other way, than by emigrating from it. But if
a State secedes from a Federal Union, the people who inhabit
it are instantly placed both politically and territorially without
the government. The great difference between a consolidated
and a Federal Government, is, that in the first, there are no
parts, or if originally there were, they are merged; in the
second, the parts continue to have a distinct existence. In
the second place, the confederate government of 1778 was
actually dissolved by secession. The 13th article of the charter of union provided that no alteration should ever be made
in it, unless with the unanimous consent of all the States composing it. The States were not unanimous in the change
which substituted another constitution, and converted the government into the present confederation. Rhode Island and
North Carolina rejected the scheme, and might have remained
out of the Union to the present day, as they actually did for a
considerable time. The members of the Convention which
frarmed the present Constitution felt the extreme difficulty of




22        REFLEC'TIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
their situation. Mr. Madison expressed great doubts whether
the defect of authority in establishing a new government in
violation of that very instrument, which could alone give
authority, might not be deemed fatal.  It was considered,
however, as a last resource in a very trying period, and the
submission of the new Constitution to the States was viewed
with great apprehension, lest the want of consent of Rhode
Island and North Carolina might not prevent the ratification
by even nine States. In the third place, three of the States
which actually ratified the present Constitution, expressly reserved the right to secede from the Union. Rhode Island and
New York, in their respective acts of ratification, declare that
"6 the powers of government may be re-assumed by the people
whenever it shall become necessary to their happiness."  The
ratification of Virginia declared "that the powers granted undier the Constitution may be resumed by the people, whenever
the same shall be perverted to their injury or oppression." No
language could be more precise, and uneqivocal. Questions
arising under the Constitution are submitted to the Courts of
the Union; but when causes shall be deemed of sufficient
magnitude to induce a State to withdraw altogether from the
operation of the Constitution and laws, and by thus withdrawing to avoid all conflict between State and Federal jurisdiction is absolutely submitted to the State itself, and as one
member of a Federal Union can not enjoy any higher federal
right than is enjoyed by all, the inference is direct, that even
if the right of secession were not an inherent attribute of Confederate States, it is at least reserved to every American State.
I observe that the two letters of Madison and Hamilton, in
which they dissuade from  secession, have been lately published, and considered as decisive evidence that the right was
discountenanced; but they show precisely the.reverse; for in
a few weeks after, the two States which those eminent men
represented proclaimed the right and inserted it in their ratifications. There is another error which is very commonly
committed, which consists in confounding secession with nullification. The two are totally distinct. Nullification is a
forcible resistance to the laws of the Union, by a State which
is in the Union, and is treason. Secession is the peaceful withdrawal of a State from the Union; and is designed to be a




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.           23
protection against the employment of force either on the part
of the Federal government, or the State. 4th. Secession is to
the confederate form of government precisely what emigration
is in an aggregate government. In the first, the community
is composed of States, in the second, it is composed of individuals. The doctrine of perpetual allegiance, which was so
long contended for by the European states, has been renounced.
the right of subjects to become citizens in another country is
openly recognized. But the right of perpetual allegiance has
no more foundation in a federal than in a consolidated government. In the case of emigration, individuals carry their personal property with them, because personal property follows
the person. In the case of secession, the territory is withdrawn, because with a few exceptions, it does not belong to
the Federal Government.
It has been said that although the coercion of a State is unconstitutional, and, therefore, not rightful, that at least its
citizens may be coerced, that the laws may be mlade to operate
upon individuals, although not upon the body politic. The
defect of this view consists in its presenting the argument in
the same imperfect, and mutilated form as before. To execute
the laws of the Union upon the people of a State which has
seceded, is to execute them upon the State. 2d. It takes for
granted, that these laws can be executed, when the fact of
secession has rendered it impossible. For it is only through
the instrumentality of the courts of the Union that this can
be effected. But where the whole machinery of the courts
and of the ministerial officers accompanying theil is removed,
and the powers which they exercised are deposited with'the
courts of the State, it becomes impossible to coerce the individuals of a State, except by coercing the State, the right to do
which is disclaimed. The Federal Government, however, may
have erected fortifications in a State, and it would seem to be
competent to it to defend these against capture by a State.
These works have been built at the expense of the Union, and
the ground on which they stand has been ceded to the Union.
This, therefore, presents a case in which the laws of the Union
may be made to operate within the boundaries of a State.
On the other hand, the State seceding may have no fortifications, and no federal property of any kind within it, in which




24      lREFLLECTIONS OF THE PRESENT CRISIS.
case the only weapon within our reach falls from our hands.
But the right to retain a member in the Union cannot depend
upon the accidental circumstances, whether the government
has or has not fortifications within a State. The right must
be perfect, and indefeasible, under all circumstances, and
freed from all contingencies; otherwise it is not a right. If the
State has no fortifications, and no other property of the Union,
the only recourse would be to war against the State, the right
to make which is confessedly forbidden. We may then adopt
the same inverted course of reasoning as before, for it is the
infallible test of the validity of an argument, and say that as
the conclusion is unlawful, the premises on which it is founded are illegitimate; in other words, that as there is no right to
enforce the submission of a State, the right to secede is, clear
and indisputable. It is not surprising, where the minds of
men are in a state of extreme exacerbation, where the events
which are occurring are so novel and complicated that the
thoughts of every one should sway to and fro, without any
established precedent, or any fixed principle to lay hold of.
We see plans of a Northern and Central Confederacy calmly
deliberated upon, at the very time that the power of the Federal Government is vehemently appealed to to prevent the formation of a Southern Confederacy; so incoherent and inconsequential are all our views, when they are strongly influenced
by the passions. Few men analyze their thoughts; the finest
understanding is incompetent to do it, as it should be done: and
yet the setting our thoughts in order, and founding them on
sure and undeniable principles, is indispensable to all wise
and effective action, because indispensable to that selt-possession, circumspection, and prudence, which can alone direct us
in every thing pertaining to the public welfare.
The reason why the coercion of a State is totally repugnant
to the genius of a Federal Union, is that that form of government is founded on agreement, and union: to employ violence, therefore, in order to maintain union, "is a solecism,"
for it would defeat the great end which is intended to be answered: to wit, the perpetuity of the Union. It would be the
commission of fratricide in order to produce brotherly love.
Admitting, therefore, that the right of scession does not exist,
and, as its logical consequence, that coercion may be employed,




RIEFLECTIOPS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.         25
there are great reasons of public policy why it should never
be. Views of expediency forbid it; and expediency, a large
and enlightened expediency, has had much to do with the
affairs of men in the nineteenth century. For by expediency
I do not mean that sorry and timid policy which shrinks from
duty, when it lies in the path of danger, but that commanding
policy which avoids danger when it would obstruct the performance of duty.
Where fortifications for the defense of the Union have been
built in a seceding State, it is plain that some way should be
provided by which they may be made to revert to the State,
for they can no longer be employed for the defense of the
Union, or for the defense of the State by the Union. No one
supposes that Great Britain maintains the fortress of Gibralter for the purpose of defending Spain, but rather for the purpose of overawing Spain; and every one must be struck with
the unnatural spectacle which that remarkable case affords of
one government holding, for a century and a half, a fortified
post situated in the territory of another, and independent
government. It is a standing reproach to the Spanish nation,
and a signal proof of the decay and extreme feebleness of
that monarchy. But the cession of the fortifications within a
seceding State should be the subject of negotiation: nor is
there any great difficulty in accomplishing it in this way. No
two parties to a controversy have ever failed: to adjust it
where they have been animated by a sincere and mutual desire to obtain no other advantages than those to which they
are fairly entitled. On the one hand stands the right of the
remaining members of the Confederacy to be reimbursed the
cost of erecting the fortifications; on the other stands the
equally indisputable right of the State, when it becomes an
independent government, to exercise exclusive jurisdiction
over all places within its own territory. If either party betrays a, want of fairness, a civil war of the most hideous character, may be the consequence. The right of secession was
intended to be the antidote against civil war. It has been
called revolution; but names are not things. The Convention
which framed the Constitution of the United States wisely
refused to insert any provision authorizing the coercion of a
State, and, with a rare sagacity, omitted to insert any clause




26       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
prohibiting secession. It has been said, with great justice,
that the work of their hands even rose above the level of their
own minds. An intuitive sagacity frequently surmounts difficulties which the most highly endowed understanding did not
anticipate. Secession in a confederate government is the true,
and natural safeguard against civil war. It puts the "sting
of disability into the temptation" by removing the discontented member from  the Confederacy, and substituting a
peaceful remedy in the place of revolution. It was a fine saying of Dr. Franklin, that " the most unjust peace is preferable
to the most just war;" not because this maxim is literally
true, but because it presents, in the most striking manner
possible, the unspeakable blessings of peace, and it is sometimes necessary to push an opinion to an extreme, and to leap
over all exceptions, in order to make it be understood to the
extent in which it is actually true. But when civil war stares
us in the face, the maxim of Franklin is rigorously true, and
without any exception. The present kingdoms of Belgium
and Holland were at one time parts of the Spanish monarchy,
and the Spanish monarchy was itself a consolidated, and not
a confederate government. Yet Spain treated with the seven
United Provinces, and acknowledged their independence; and
the relations which have subsisted between them since the
severance have been infinitely more amicable than before.
Great Britain, also a consolidated government, pursued the
same course towards the American Colonies, and the intercourse between the two people has been more friendly, while
the prosperity of both has been greatly enhanced. Austria is,
I believe, the only government which has refused to treat with
its subjects after they had thrown over their allegiance. The
Republic of Switzerland was once a part of its dominions. It
has been an independent government for centuries, yet the
Austrian empire has never to this day acknowledged its independence.
I have been told that the behavior of all public men at
Washington, during the present session, has been marked by
a gravity and thoughtfulness never before witnessed. Great
events elevate the feelings, and calamity, when it is not so
overpowering as to subdue the mind, seldom fails to balance it,
and to call every one back to reflection. And in a time of great




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          27
public peril, it is fit that we should be able to gather up our
thoughts, so that we may decipher present events and understand whether they are fortuitous, and can be controlled, or
whether they are brought about by causes which are beyond
our control; and then so act with calmness, promptitude and
decision. It will not avail us to turn to what are termed
strong measures. This is apparently the shortest road, and
the one most flattering to human ambition. But it invariably
becomes the most tedious and arduous. To act in that rough
manner, is one of the great errors which have been committed
by governments, both in their external and internal relations.
But in this age, and, above all, in this country, it would be infinitely worse than an error; it would be a deplorable crime.
It has been remarked, that nations which border upon each
other are more liable to disputes, of one kind or other, than
those which are removed to a distance, and that in the event
of two or more confederacies springing up, war instead of
peace may become the permanent condition of the country.
And to this remark some portions of history certainly do give
countenance. But to this there are exceptions; for where a
deep and incurable alienation has grown up between different
sections of a country, the inhabitants of the two are in reality
two hostile people, placed in constant proximity to one another, living in perpetual discord under the same roof, continually repelled from each other, because they are continually
drawn to each other. Like the dissensions of a family, their
feelings are more bitter, and their opportunities of doing mischief may be much greater than if they were separated. Under such circumstances, no change can be for the worse, and
hardly any can fail to be for the better. The provinces of
Belgium and Holland were in eighteen hundred and fifteen
united under one government. But the perpetual discord between the two people led to a severance of the union fifteen
years after it was formed. The Diet of the kingdom did not
stop to inquire whether it should be so, but accepted it as a
fact, as an unavoidable event, and gave its sanction to the
dismemberment. We must not be led astray by examples
drawn from antiquity, the resort to which is so common
among those who interrogate the past, instead of deciphering
the present. All history is of inestimable value; but the




28       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
changes in human affairs and in the, structure of society are
so great from age to age, that our chief difficulty consists in
eliciting their differences, rather than their resemblances.
Because the groundwork of human nature is the same everywhere, no one would, therefore, expect to find the same manners, institutions, and customs, in Brazil and Pennsylvania.
Still less reason would he have to expect to find a close resemblance between the turbulent oligarchies of ancient Greece
and the present period. In truth, a new and mighty power
has risen up in the world, in the vast system of industrial
pursuits which has grown up, and which every year is acquiring fresh strength in this country. This more than any other
circumstance has contributed to check the passion for war;
for it renders a state of war absolutely inconsistent with the
vital interests and inveterate habits of the people, while at
the same time it develops reflection among a larger body of men
than was ever known before. I do not say, that war, even
furious war, may not take place in a month, or a week; but I
predict, that it will never be so frequent as is imagined, and
that it will never become the habitual passion, or occupation
of the people. Portugal was for a long period an integral
part of the Spanish monarchy. Since they have become separate kingdoms the relations between the two people, although
bordering upon each other, have, as in the case of the Dutch
and Belgians, been more pacific than they ever were before.
France has been engaged in war with Russia, Prussia and
Austria, as often as with Spain, her neighbor. The immediate
danger which is apprehended in the event of the formation of
a Southern and Northern Confederacy, is in consequence of
the perpetual feuds growing out of the question of slavery.
No one can be insensible to the cruel annoyance which may be
occasioned in this way, commencing in petty acts, the inveigling or abduction of slaves, acts of retaliation, and these of
such constant occurrence as to place the bordering States in a
state of perpetual and deadly hostility, and perhaps to kindle
a general war between the two sections of the country. These
are considerations of great moment to the States lying on
either side of the Ohio. It is better to tolerate inconveniences
which are not greivously insupportable, than to venture upon
an untried future. But there are some considerations which




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          29
render it not improbable that the intercourse between the
neighboring States will not be as hostile as it is now. In the
first place, the South will have neither the right nor the desire to demand of the North a fugitive slave law. It would
be as unreasonable as to demand one of the British provinces
in Canada or the government of Mexico. In the second place,
the great majority of the Northern people, even after deducting the Democratic party, are not disposed to interfere with
the domestic institutions of their Southern neighbors. The
struggle hitherto between the two sections of the country can
be viewed in no other light, than as an effort on the part of
the North to obtain an ascendancy, commensurate with its
immense growth. This is the goal to which everything has
been tending for the last twenty-five years. It alone explains
the eternal war of parties, the fierce rivalries, and heart-burnings which have subsisted during that period. We may view
it as a mere strife between the ambitious men of the two sections: but this would be mistaking the consequence of an
event for its cause. Individuals are, doubtless, of high importance in directing great events; but those events have a
much deeper foundation than the rivalry and ambition of
public men. If, then, a Northern Confederacy is formed, the
great end will be obtained. The North will have the whole
field to itself, without any disturbance from abroad. Each
government will now be master of its own affairs, and will be
both more able, and more inclined, to consult the substantial
interests of its people, than when they were discordant ele
ments of one and the same government. The escape of slaves
may be more frequent than before: but this will be accepted
as a necessary condition of the new position of the parties.
3d. The commercial intercourse between the two people, already greater in extent and value than the foreign trade, will
be of too great importance to be jeopardized, or trifled with,
when the radical cause of contention is removed. Both are
so addicted to industrial pursuits of one kind or other, that
they have become a national habit; and both have sagacity
enough to perceive that to create any derangement in these
for two or three years may be productive of the mnost cruel
sufferings; and if continued as long as the barbarous wars of
Europe formerly continued there, that they may give a shock




30       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
to those institutions which uphold their industry and impart
such indomitable energy to the character of both.
The great object hitherto has been to preserve the Union;
our hopes are baffled, the ground has entirely changed: to
grasp at Union, when the spirit which animated it has forever
fled, when Union would be a perpetual source of disunion, is
not the part of wisdom, bravery, or patriotism. Our great
object now should be to prevent civil war, a far more deplorable calamity than disunion. To do this, is now the supreme
duty of every man. The true course at the present juncture,
is to survey our affairs with a calm, and undismayed countenance, to take counsel neither of fear nor pride, to accept as
natural and proper what has become inevitable; and to conform our behavior strictly and unfalteringly to the altered
circumstances in which we are placed. If we do this, we will
draw order out of confusion: if we do not, all the present
evils will be multiplied, and a period of strife, of which no
man can predict the end, will be the consequence.
It is not surprising that when the human mind is so strongly
disposed to forget the past and to consider events which were
irregular, and even unlawful in their comm encement, as natural
and proper, after they have become the established order of
society, that the striking similarity in the steps which led to
the formation of the C onstitution of the United States, and
the sudden appearance of a Southern Confederacy, at the
present day should have been lost sight of. The Confederate
Government established on the 9th of July, 1778, was dissolved by Secession, and the subsequent Constitution of September,
1787, had no other foundation to stand upon but this act of
secession; nor does it make any difference whether the structure of the two governments was different: the difficulty does
not arise from this circumstance, but from the absolute prohibition in the Constitution of 1778 of any fundamental change
in it, unless the unanimous consent of all the States was obtained. Nor does it render the case less strong, that in 1787
a majority of the States withdrew. A majority as well as a
minority may secede from a gov erminent. They who withdraw
from the establishedframe of go vernment, not those who are left
behind, are the seceding-members, whether they are a majority,
or minority. The only way in which Mr. Madison sought to




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.           31
overcome the difficulty was by declaring that it was a case
which must make the law for itself; that the emergency was so
great, as even to authorize an infringement of the most solemn
of all the stipulations in the Constitution of 1778. The inquiry,
then, why the first act of secession has passed into oblivion,
while the second is regarded with so invidious an eye, is easily
answered: all the acts consequent upon the first had become
a part of the established order of society, while the second
being new, and not worked into the settled habits of thinking,
strikes upon the imagination as something startling, and even
revolutionary. And this disposition, although apparently an
aberration of the mind, is sometimes of great advantage.  The
conservative element in the human character is frequently so
weak, and the innovating so strong, that even an excess of the
former should not be complained of until it threatens itself to
be innovating and destructive. And this is precisely its tendency at the present time. We are told by those who are set
on high, in order that they may see far, and clearly, and who
are invested with authority, for no other purpose than to
spread order and tranquillity over the land, that coercion in
the present juncture is not contemplated, that peace, not war,
i6 the desire of the government, and yet the single declaration
which would testify to the rectitude of this intention: We will
receive the commissioners of the seceding States, and we will
negotiate with them, is industriously omitted. On this the whole
difficulty hinges; on this, and nothing but this, has hung the
issue of war, or peace, and for the absence of the disposition,
which would have prompted such a declaration, the country
has been convulsed beyond example, a savage feeling imparted
to our people, and the industrious pursuits of the country violently broken in upon. The exercise of a clear judgment, and
of that rare quality, moral courage, would have instantly
turned aside these grievous calamities. I have heard it lamented, that we have no iron man at the head of affairs, to
carry the war into the seceding States; and, indeed, our hitherto tranquil institutions have not been calculated to rear that
species of men; we must search for them in the dark recesses
of French, or Italian politics. Our institutions have been
framed for the express purpose of guarding against the ascendency of men clad in an iron armor. But I have heard very




32:REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
little lamentation expressed, that we have no men endowed
with that courageous wisdom, which sees far, and clearly, into
the difficulties from which even a free people are not always
exempt, and which, without trembling, and without vain
equivocations, falls upon that line of policy which is calculated to avert them by the still more potent weapon of conciliation, and negotiation. I have read of civil war which was
waged many centuries ago in France, and which was termed
"6 la querre du bien _publique" —a war for the furtherance of the
public good. And yet that war, from  the beginning, was
marked by the most atrocious designs, and was carried on
without mercy, and without compunction; and shall it be told
by the future historian, that in this country of advanced civilization, a similar war was waged, under cover of the same
criminal subterfuges?
I have shown in my last number, and elsewhere more fully,*
that the right of secession is an inherent attribute of the confederate form of government; that an act of secession broke up
the first Federal Union, and that this act constituted the sole
foundation upon which the existing Constitution of the United
States rests. I have also shown that this right exists, not for
the purpose of encouraging, but for the noble purpose of discouraging revolution; and that if this had been frankly and
unreservedly admitted at the commencement of our present
troubles, they would have been avoided. In consequence ot the
false step which has been made, we are in truth placed in a revolutionary state, for revolution may be occasioned by the denial
of an undoubted right, as well as by the assertion of an unfounded one. We see people even in high places persist in
calling the severed members of the late Confederacy parts of
that Confederacy: and yet a Southern RIepublic, standing
upon precisely the same foundation as the Northern is in existence, is thoroughly organized, and with a calmness and
foresight worthy of being imitated, is maturing plans for the
wise government of its own people, and the establishment of
peaceful relations with its former brethren. The obstinate and
narrow-minded George the Third persevered in calling the
* Chap. 2d of the 4th Book, and 2d edition, of "Nature and Tendency
of Free Institutions."




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.           33
American people his colonies, and the rebels, at a period when
they were as truly independellt as they were after the peace of
1783; and the Privy Council of England were ready to throw
up their hats with joy, when Lord Loughborough called Dr.
Franklin a hoary-headed traitor.
The late Confederacy was, without doubt, the wisest, and the
most prosperous government which ever existed. Party spirit
occasionally ran high, but parties in a Republic take the place
of the checks and balances in the monarchical form of government, because in the first it is necessary to balance the society,
as well as the government. On the whole, the people, until
recently, were happy and contented. There was neither the
iron hand of a prince, nor the ungovernable passions of a rabble, to interfere with their pursuits and to arrest their steady
march to greatness~ Under these circumstances it is contrary
to all the principles which ordinarily govern human nature, to
suppose that any of its members should desire to withdraw
from the Confederacy, unless there were very grave reasons
for so doing. But it should have occurred to every one from
the beginning, and particularly those charged with the responsibility of office, that where such reasons do exist, there was
the highest probability imaginable, that the movement would
be successful, even if it were converted by the remaining
members into revolution. It might have occurred to them,
that the sense of right, united with the sense of inj~ury, arms
the human mind with an exceeding vigor, and energy, and that
above all, a free people are omnipotent for defense on their
own soil. These are considerations which it requires no great
discernment to seize, and to appreciate, and if they had been,
our present disastrous condition would have been averted.
Events are invariably wiser than men, but when events have
developed themselves their meaning may be easily interpreted,
and it is our duty, then, to turn them to the best account.
My observation of human life has taught me that a great
part of the false steps, moral delinquencies, and even crimes,
which are committed, whether in private or public~ life, are
the result of a defect of knowledge and judgment. If there
is no restraint from without, the man who labors under this
defect is disposed to march blindly forward to the execution
of projects the most absurd and mischievous. If there is a
3




34       REFLECTIONS ON TIE PRESENT CRISIS.
feeble restraint, his passions are the more inflamed, and the
pride of opinion makes him more determined, and obstinate,
in the pursuit of his end. But if the powerful restraint which
a wholesome public opinion imposes surrounds him, he bigins
to falter, his self-assurance forsakes him, and he then, for the
first time, begins to reflect: opinions which he before looked
upon as unquestionable, are now found to be open to the most
serious objections. If he is an honorable man, he at least
m:odifies them, so that they may be harmless, and at the same
time rescue him from the charge of too great inconsistency.
If he is both an honorable and a conscientious man, he absolutely renounces them, and throws himself upon that public
opinion, which in spite of dark and insidious counsellors,
-snatches him and his country from the brink of ruin.
The immediate causes which precipitated the dissolution of,the Union, were the open violation of that provision in the
Constitution which commands the delivery up of fugitives
from labor, the dark conspiracy of John Brown, and the secret
emissaries to the South for the purpose of fomenting insurrection among the slaves. These are all manifest violations of,the laws and of that comity which should subsist among.members of the same community. Nor does any one deny,that they are so; nothing but the jesuitical subtlety which,makes some men have two opinions, a declared opinion, and a
secret opinion, could have permitted such disorderly acts to;be committed with impunity. Nor is there in practice any,adequate means of counteracting them. All laws are exeeouted through the aid of public opinion, and if in some States,public opinion is inveterately opposed to the execution of even,the supreme law of the land, the efforts to execute it become
-so wearisome, and harassing that they must at length be given,up in despair. The legislative acts which undertook to repeal,the fugitive slave law., and to annul the Constitutional provision, under which it was passed, were particularly odious to
the South, because it operated as a standing insult to their
i4nstitutions. Men brook insult with less forbearance than,they do injury. The last may not be premeditated; the first
must be so. And although the dissolution of the Union leaves,the Souther master without even the form -of redress, -it




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          35
protects him from the cruel indignity of being scornfully
treated by his own brethren.
In the new Germanic Constitution of 1815, a provision was
inserted for the purpose of protecting one of the members of
the Union from an infringement of its rights by another member. Where this takes place the injured State must choose
one of three members of the Diet selected by the defendant;
or if the last neglects to select, the Diet is bound to name
him; and the court of final resort, in the State of the member thus chosen, desides the case. The provision in the Constitution of the United States, which subjects such questions
to the examination and decision of the common tribunal of
the Union is much wiser, and much better conceived; and
yet it has been found very inadequate in practice. But if a
State persists in upholding her own laws, in defiance of the
Constitution, and her citizens refuse assistance to the Federal
officers, there is no other alternative but secession either on
her part, or on the part of the injured State; for the provision
in the Germanic Constitution, that in case of disobedience a
military force should be resorted to to coerce the State as such,
is ex industria, omitted in the American Constitution. For by
coercing a State, as such, I understand marching a regular
army into it, capturing its towns, and fortifying them against
recapture, giving battle to any army which the State may
raise; in other words, conquering it, and holding possession
of it as a conquered country, until the State has submitted.
These are all totally repugnant to the genius of our institutions, and would be productive of a thousandfold more mischief than the evils they were intended to remedy. They are
very different from lending assistance even with an armed
force, to an officer executing the law upon individuals, in each
particular case as it arises.
There is another view which is entitled to great consideration and which, by connecting the present with the future,
throws great light on the whole field of our politics. The
future is wrapped up in the present, but the future is dimly
seen amidst the conflict of the passions. So far from regarding secession as a revolutionary movement, as something of
baleful omen to tile future destinies of America, the true view
is to consider it as an event brought about by natural causes,




36       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
and not at all fitted to trouble the regular march of society.
The heart-burnings and jealousies which have torn society
may have precipitated it; but they do not afford a clue to the
real character of the movement. The cupidity for the acquisition of new territory has rendered our country too immense,
and its interests too complicated and multifarious to be presided over by a single government. The despotic rule of a
Russian or Turkish monarch may, in a rough manner, and
after a fashion, mould the public interests into a sort of crude
consistency. But that is not the way in which the AngloNorman race have been accustomed to see public affairs administered. The way in which even intelligent minds are
deceived, and are led to take a very imperfect view of the
matter is this; although all great events are brought about
by natural causes, their immediate happening, that is their
happening at one particular time rather than another, is generally occasioned by some unexpected, and even untoward
event, which, by kindling the passions, occupies every one
with the present, and appears, therefore, not only to give a
new face to public events, but to impress them with the character of violent, revolutionary and unnatural. Instead of looking beneath the surface, in order to discover the true causes
at work, the attention is fastened upon this new phase alone,
although it is transitory and ephemeral. In the progress of
time the mind is roused to think more justly, and to see more
clearly; a larger view of the whole matter is taken; and if
public men have to deal with it, a wise, and judicious coursea course which shall recommend itself to mankind, and not
merely to party, is planned, and executed. If the power of
reflection were possessed in the highest degree, what numberless miscarriages in public life would have been avoided, what
torrents of blood, which have been shed -would have been
saved, what countless millions, which have been squandered,
would have been scattered over the land to fructify and adorn
it. If the power were higher than it is, but [till in a limited
degree, it might be too meddling and officious in its efforts to
scan the future. It might, then, err from over-precaution and
mistaking transitory events for permanent causes, it might
give too great license to the unruly elements of society. But
of all countries in the world, the Republic, the country in




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.         37
which knowledge and property are most widely dispersed, is.the one which is calculated to foster this quality in as high a
degree as can be,humanly expected; and events which have
lately transpired are a memorable proof of the fact. Not
merely public men but the people of all parties, and in all
parts of the country, have conferred together, assembled in
public meetings, and conventions, and transmitted petitions
to Congress, signed by numbers unprecedented, to implore it
to stay the hand of violence, and to listen to that sound of
pregnant meaning, Compromise. I have, I believe, read history with some attention, and I declare that no spectacle which
its pages have presented to me, whether in ancient, or modern
times, can at all compare, in beauty, grandeur and solemnity,
with the scene which has lately passed before me. Even if
this great movement should not be completely successful, it
will be sufficiently so, to answer some great puilposes, and it
will tell, for many generations to come, upon the character of
American institutions.
Public meetings, conferences, conventions, have played, and
will continue to play, an important part in public affairs.
Political societies and clubs, whose organization is permanent,
an'd which are designed to propagate opinions, hostile to the
government or to all government, have never taken root in
this country. They have been found in France, Italy and(
Germany, where they have overturned dynasties, or shaken
society to its foundation.  In the United States even the
Know Nothing lodges, which bore a faint resemblance to
those societies are dissolved, and the Cincinnatii, Revolution
and Washington societies, which were only designed to celebrate particular events, have nearly, if not quite, fallen into
oblivion.  But popular assemblies and conventions, whose
proceedings are never in the dark, which are designed to give
expression to public opinion, and by so doing, to build up a
strong fortress around the government, subsist in full vigor,
and exert a powerful moral influence, both upon society and
upon the deliberations of the government. For it would be a
great mistake to consider the mere mechanism of the government, as containing the whole machinery by which public
affairs are set in motion. The government, it is true, has a
fixed organization, which the power outside of it has not, and




38       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
ought not to have; for public opinion, which is the moving
spring' in a Republic, necessarily varies with the shifting
affairs of society, and would injure, instead of assisting the
government, if it had a fixed organization in permanent societies. Our public meetings and voluntary conventions are
among the chief instruments by which government is balanced. We have not merely resorted to the curious expedient
of balancing one department of the government against another, but considering government as made by and for society,
we have placed in the last a counterpoise to the selfish ambition of the first, which, although like all human contrivances,
it can never be expected to be unerring, yet, in the long run
of public affairs, can not fail to have a very decisive influence.
"1 want," said Oliver Ellsworth in the Convention of 1787,
in answer to those who proposed plans of government, similar to the imposing fabrics of the Eauropean States, " a government which will give me domestic felicity, not one clothed in an
imposing array." If his services had not proved him to be a
wise and profound statesman, this sentiment would have been
sufficient. He discerned, at a glance, what were the institutions which were adapted to his country, at a period when other
men were looking abroad for curiously devised plans of government; and shall it be said at the present day, that for want
of understanding the true genius of those institutions, domestic
felicity has been set at naught, the opinions of the wise, and
the just, trampled under foot, and a civilized country for the first
time in the history of the world, given up to be a prey to the horrors of civil war?'It is always an unfavorable symptom when we are called
upon to defend first principles, and to produce at every turn a
certificate of the title under which we enjoy our plainest
rights. If it is a political right of great magnitude which is
called in question, it is an indication of that unhappy state of
society in which public men feel that they can venture with
impunity to trifle with the liberties of the people; while, at the
same time, it discloses the still more deplorable fact, that the
minds of men are so inflamed by passion, or subdued by fear,
as to confuse both their moral and mental perceptions. The
questions of real difficulty in a civilized community are always
sufficiently numerous to engross public attention. At the




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          39
present time they are both numerous and weighty. It is,
therefore, at least unreasonable to require us again and again
to run over first principles, and to begin anew to study the
mere elements of our jurisprudence. We may imagine all
sorts of difficulties on almost all subjects. But this indulgence in plausibilities and vain disputations, wastes the mind,
and contributes mightily to sap the foundation of our moral
judgments. The constitutional provision relative to the writ
of habeas corpus has been obviously violated, from inadvertence, I believe, in the first instance. The public men —of all
parties-waited in expectation that some disclaimer, some excuse, at least, should be made for an act so unprecedented,
and at a period when that noble writ was of most value, and
would prove its title to be regarded as the palladium of our
personal rights. In a time of profound tranquillity, there is
little danger that such irregularities will be committed: in
times of great public commotion there are infinite temptations
to their commission; while, at the same time, the interests
and passions of so many are marshaled on the side of power
as to assist, and even to provoke it, to acts of the most flagrant injustice. That the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus cannot be suspended by the Executive has hitherto been
considered a settled question. It has been locked up from
doubt and discussion, even in this inquisitive age, because any
further discussion of a question about which the reason of
mankind is so well agreed, would perplex, instead of informing the mind. The whole current of authority runs in that
direction; and it is very unusual that there should be so uniform an acquiescence in a principle of such great moment, unless there were the plainest and the most convincing reasons
of its correctness. It is not because the question has not been
considered: it has been profoundly considered by the most
illustrious jurists in our country; by Marshall, Kent, Story,
&c., all of whom agree, that the power of suspending the law
is an attribute of the legislature alone. This agreement alone
affords an exceedingly strong presumption of the correctness
of the opinion. In this inquisitive age, every debateable question may be considered as submitted to the bar of reason;
but the submission to what has already been thoroughly sifted,
and examined, is itself one of the chief privileges of our rea




40       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
son; otherwise we should be forever meandering and never
obtain any opinion on which we could repose with confidence.
Every advance which we made would only increase our doubts,
and the best ordered society would become a scene of trouble
and confusion.
It is not always that we can appeal to monarchical government, as affording light upon those great questions which agitate a democratic community. In this instance, we may do so
with great advantage. From England we borrowed the noble
writ of habeas corpus, and in England the current of authority is as decisive as it is in this country. Public sentiment
has been expressed with great unanimity: magistrates, lawyers, and statesmen, king, lords, and commons, have been of
one opinion; and the people, who originally wrested this great
right from the crown, regard it as one of the most important
safeguards of their rights, and as an incontestible proof that
popular liberty may be compelled to be respected, even in a
country ruled by an hereditary monarch. The experience of
the English nation on this subject is ample, and highly instructive. From the peace of Paris in 1815, which closed the
wars of the French revolution, until 1850, that country has
been torn bv civil dissensions. Insurrections and conspiracies, have frequently during that period occurred, sometimes
in England, sometimes in Scotland, and at others in Ireland.
And yet the Executive magistrate has never pretended that
he had a right to suspend the writ. The rebellion in Ireland,
in 1848, is fresh in our memory. At a period when it was
most alarming, when government found it necessary to send a
folnnidable force into the counties in the south and west, and an
armament to besiege Corkl and Limerick, and when Ireland
was filled with clubs, under the control of the council of three
hundred, it was deemed necessary to suspend the writ. But,
although the danger was imminent, and seemed to admit of no
delay, the cabinet, and the commander-in-chief did delay.
Parliament, as the only power in the state authorized to suspend so important a right, was appealed to, and Parliament
did suspend it for a limited time. In the succeeding year,
when the rebellion was yet unquelled, when the clubs alone
contained thirty thousand fighting men, the Lord-Lieutenant
of Ireland, impressed with the great difficulty of his situation,




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          41
and yet fully sensible that even in the midst of rebellion, and
open war, neither the king, nor himself, had authority to suspend the writ, again appealed to the legislature, and the legislature again suspended it for a limited period. At an earlier
period, (1828,) when the Duke of Wellington was Prime Minister, when Mr. Lawless boasted "that he would beard the
lion in his den, at the head of thirty thousand men," when
affairs were so dark and gloomy, that the king seemed to quail
before them, and in a private interview with Lord Etdon, declared that everything was revolutionary, that he had frequently suggested the necessity of suspending the habeas cor
pus act, and that he was in the condition of a person with a
pistol presented to his breast; yet Parliament did not suspend
the writ, and the king did not dream of attempting to do so.
In 1817, when the plan of a general insurrection was organized
in England and Scotland, and when the demonstrations in the
great towns were so alarming as to call for immediate measures to suppress them, the Earl of Liverpool, who was then
minister, rejected the idea of the plea of necessity, as sufficient to enable the king to dispense with the law, and appealed to the legislature to do so.
This great principle of law is so firmly settled in that country, that the controversy has been, not between the legislature
and the king, or the people and the king, but between the
legislature and the people. In 1788, Mr. Jefferson doubted
whether it would be wise to permit even the legislature to exercise so dangerous a power. The English people have sometimes thought so also. I have just remarked, that in 1828,
Parliament abstained from all interference on the subject, although the king deemed it indispensable to the public safety.
But during the wars growing out of the French revolution,
Parliament did interpose so frequently and so groundlessly,
as to appal the hearts of the bravest and most loyal men in
the kingdom. In 1800, Lord Holland stated in the House of
Lords, that in seven years the act had been suspended five
times, and of the thousands who had been imprisoned few
had been brought to trial, and but one convicted. It is no
wonder, that Mr. Fox declared at the commencement of this
war upon the rights of the people, that if ministers were determined, by means of the corrupt influence which they pos



42       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
sessed in the legislature, to pass the bills, he would say to the
people, "that resistance was no longer a question of moral
obligation and duty, but only of prudence."  Thus, while in
Great Britain no attempt, under any circumstances, has been
made by the executive to exercise this great power, in the
United States it is pretended, that the American Executive
has the right. Great Britain is without a written constitution: what is so called, consists in part of isolated acts, dating
from Magna Charta down to the Revolution and act of settlement, and in part of that consuetudinary law, which had been
growing for centuries. The Constitution of the United States
is a written instrument, comprehensive in its provisions, exact
in its details, and everywhere marked by a profound reverence
for the rights of the citizen. The English habeas corpus act
was simply passed in 1679, without saying a word as to its
suspension. But as it was passed for the express purpose of
limiting the authority of the king, and throwing a defensive
armor around the people, and as it originated with the legislature, public sentiment, sustained alike by the illustrious of
the land and the plain common sense of the people, has declared, with an unanimity rarely witnessed, that the legislature alone has power to suspend its operation. The Constitution of the United States was framed by a convention of the
people; it is alike remarkable for its clearness and simplicity,
and for the logical distribution of the powers which are delegated. The powers conferred upon the legislature are placed
in one section, and this immediately followed by the section
which contains limitations on those powers, both sections
being comprehended in the single article which defines the
legislative power, and no other. The section designed to restrain the legislature prohibits the suspension of the writ,
"except in times of rebellion or invasion, when the public
safety requires it." In the article which treats of the executive power there is no provision, which, even by implication,
can be regarded as conferring the power upon the President.
The suspension of a law is, in effect, a repeal of it pro tanto,
and the repeal of a law requires the exercise of the same legislative authority which originated it. If, then, because the
President is entrusted with the execution of the laws, he may
dispense with the operation of one law, he may, whenever he




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          43
finds himself obstructed in the prosecution of his schemes,
dispense with many others. The maintenance, in its integrity, of one law involves the maintenance of all our laws. A
written constitution is a repository of tried and experienced
truths, capable of being appealed to, in times of party conflict, when the minds of men are tormented by the danger of
civil commotion and when every means which is calculated to
fix reflection and to steady the public mind, is of so much importance to the peace of society. The necessity of the case,
and the military capacity of the Executive, have been appealed to; when it is to protect the people in all emergencies,
in their civil rights, that the power of that magistrate has
been confined within narrow limits, and that he is absolutely
forbidden to exercise legislative power. The great maxim in
politics should be, that the best man should not be intrusted
with power which, in the hands of the worst man, might be
subject to abuse. This cannot be done, as the conferring any
authority, however small, involves the power of abusing it.
The American Constitution has made the nearest approach to
the scheme, by its lucid distribution of the powers of the
three departments, and by express limitations of those powers which are conferred. Charles the Second and James the
Second, the two last and worst kings of the House of Stuart,
were accustomed to say, that a government could not exist
with such a law as the habeas corpus act. It may be said,
with infinitely more truth, that no just idea of government
can be formed, where such a law does not exist, and it was in
consequence of the dispensing power, which was assumed by
the last, that the people of England rose up in the majesty of
right, deposed him, and forever arrested this alarming and
despotic practice.
Thus, from Somers to Mansfield, and from Mansfield to
Marshall, Kent and Story, the whole current of authority,
and opinion, is against the exercise of the power by the Executive. No plea of necessity, no plea that that magistrate,
being commander-in-chief of the army, has a right to dispense
with the laws, has been admitted. I admire that sound, robust common sense, which turns away from all sophistry and
vain subtleties, without deigning to listen to them. The English mind has done so, although England ever since the pass



44       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
age of the habeas corpus act has been violently shaken by
foreign war, or by intestine commotions. The American mind
has done so, until very recently, when an act committed, I
verily believe, from want of knowledge,* has, because it is
persevered in, encouraged some writers to vindicate its constitutionality, and to conceive views entirely foreign to our
system of government. To a mind addicted to inquiry and
investigation, nothing is more delightful, than to meet with
new views on all subjects. A healthful exercise is thus afforded to it, and its efforts may become highly serviceable to
the interests of society. But mere novelties do not impart
light: they rather encumber the mind, and throw into confusion the knowledge it had before acquired.
An opinion has, during the last thirty years, been occasionally thrown out, though always hesitatingly, and with a secret
distrust of its correctness, that each of the departments has a
right to pronounce upon the constitutionality of the measures
which fall within its particular province; and that thus the
judgment of the executive magistrate is of as high authority
as that of the judiciary. There is a portion of truth in this
statement, which gives it an air of plausibility: and it is for
want of a just analysis in separating the true from the false,
that this notion has been taken up, and so often repeated,
without producing conviction. Because the executive and the
legislature are, in the first instance, obliged to form an opinion
of the legality of the acts they adopt, the conclusion has been
hastily jumped to, that they are the final judges of their
legality. The reason why the determination of constitutional
questions is referred to the Supreme Court, as the tribunal of
dernier resort, is that the Court, in its judgments, decides
principles; the legislature, in passing a law, and the executive
magistrate in adopting a measure, only declare a fact. And
although a legal adjudication is said to be only binding between the parties in that particular case, it is in reality, until
reversed, universally binding. This is so in all private controversies, where the jurisdiction of the court is acknowledged
to be supreme: and, therefore, it is, that the vast majority of
"You' do not know with how little wisdom the world is governed,"
said Chancellor Oxenstiern of Sweden to his soni.




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.            45
principles are firmly and permanently established. Moreover,
every law is liable to be repealed, every executive measure to
be abandoned, as well as every judgment to be reversed. Although, therefore, the legislature, and even the executive, are
obliged in the first instance, to form an opinion, with regard
to the constitutionality of their acts, and in the absence of a
legal adjudicationl; yet, in doing so, they only announce a
fact. The enactment of a law, or the promulgation of ant executive command, simply imply that they are believed to be
constitutional, without determining whether they are so. The
great advantage of employing a judicial tribunal to accoinplish this last end, is that its structure, mode of procedure,
and the special training of its members, alone fit it for the
performance of the duty, and that its decision is invested
with the authoritative character of a principle; while at the
same time the judgment it pronounces is not so inflexible
that it may not be reversed, if further light is shed upon it.
A distinction has. been made between political and civil
questions. The right of a judicial tribunal to decide the last
is admitted, while its right to decide the former is questioned.
But in a constitutional government all political rights become
civil rights, although all civil rights are not, therefore, political ones. The rights, therefore, which grow out -of the p)olitical laws, enter as completely into private controversies, as do
those which grow out of the laws regulating civil rights.
They are, therefore, appropriately and judiciously submitted
to a legal adjudication.  The decision in the case of John
lHampden and the seven'bishops involved political and constitutional questions; yet they have remained undisturbed
about two centuries.  If the legislature and the executive
possessed an authority co-ordinate with the judiciary, the
great principle, by which a separation of these departments
is effected, would be infringed. This separation is erected
into a principle, not for the purpose of maintaiuing a balance
between them, but to guard against unlawful legislation and
despotic acts on the part of the executive. An equilibrium
between the departments is thus maintained; but this is a
consequence, not a cause, of the arrangement. The pretension that it was unsafe to permit the courts to decide political
questions prepared the way for the French revolution, It was




46       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
admitted, that the ordinary tribunals, established from time
immemorial, were competent, and bound to decide them. The
only resource, therefore, on the part of the king was to establish extraordinary tribunals, dependent on himself; and the
only remedy which the French nation could apply was to rise
up in rebellion against such despotic usage.
The first article of the Constitution defines the legislative
power, and declares that Congress may "provide for calling
out the militia, to execute laws, to suppress rebellion, and
repel invasion."  And it might be supposed, that a power
conceived in such general terms, would authorize the legislature to confer upon the executive authority to suspend the
writ. The answer to this view, is decisive. 1st. Congress
have never passed any such law; much less a law permitting
the executive to delegate the power to military officers. 2d.
The section which creates the legislative power, is followed
by that which contains limitations upon the same power;
among which is the clause prohibiting the suspension of the
writ, unless in cases of rebellion, or invasion, the public safety
may require it. The first clause is the only part which can,
by the remotest implication, be supposed to enable the executive to disregard the writ; and then only through the intermefdiate agency of the legislature. But the second closes the
door upon this construction, by prohibiting the exercise of the
power, even on the part of the legislature, except in certain
well-defined cases. I have been grieved and amazed at the
light!, and even jeering manner, in which this subject is treated
in the executive message. It was one which should have been
approached with infinite care and delicacy, and handled with
the gravity and dignity, which becomes the occasion. The
responsibility of an individual to the bar of public opinion,
when he rises up in rebellion against the reason of mankind,
is clear to all the world: and I can only account for conduct
so unusual, by supposing that the complicated difficulties,
which surround the Chief Magistrate, have disconcerted a
mind not originally very strong, and have led him to the
adol)tion of a lively manner, in order to conceal the depth of
his anxieties.
We are in the midst of a civil war; let us, therefore, think
of nothing but peace. This is the sentiment of thousands;




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.             47
but it is one of the secrets of the human heart which no man
wishes hastily to disclose.* The general effect of war is to
place all orders of men under unusual restraint, and to compress the thoughts into a forced and unnatural state. The
instant organization of an imposing military force strikes powerfully upon the imagination, and gives an almost preternatural authority to the government. This is more particularly
the case in a civil war. The passions are more heated, the
hostile feeling enters every household, and the dominant party
lord it with uncontrolled sway over the dismayed and scattered forces of their adversaries. Independently of this, there are
great numbers of persons who conscientiously believe, that it
is the duty of the citizen to submit cheerfully to the government under which he lives, and this is a noble sentiment. NTo
man has a right to figure to himself a higher law for the government of his own actions, or those of his fellow-citizens. A
principle of this kind, if steadily acted upon, would involve
the dissolution of both government and society. But this is
not inconsistent with the most fearless spirit of inquiry. On
the contrary, every one is bound, under all circumstances, to
investigate the motives and conduct of public men: and the
more perilous the times, the more imperious is the duty: otherwise, there might be no end to the most unjust war, and no
meaning in the constitutional provision which guarantees
freedom of opinion, and of the press. Governments must
not be too sensitive to even the closest scrutiny into their conduct. The privilege is established for their benefit, as well as
that of the citizens: and it is only those governments which
are both free, and strong, which ever permanently ordained
the liberty of the press.f
Two courses lay open before us, easy to understand, and
easy to follow; and either of which would have extricated us
from the perplexing difficulties which have overtaken us, and
* "A government," said Cromwell, "which is afraid of paper bullets
cannot be worth preserving."
t Mr. Gregory, a member of the British Parliament, in a late letter to
the London Times, says: " Not a post arrives from the United States that
does not bring me letter upon letter from persons in the North, requesting
me to urge the prompt recognition of the Southern Confederacy, as the
greatest blessing that could happen to the North, by contributing to a
peaceful solution of the quarrel."




48       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
would have gained us the applause of succeeding generations. We may have accepted either of the plans of compromise which were offered, and which were espoused by
leading men of all parties, which were enforced by one hundred
and sixty-seven thousand petitions, and which, during the
winter, would have been hailed with unmingled satisfaction
by a majority of the people of the Union; or if we did not
think proper to pursue this course, we may have fallen in with
the declared wish of the Southein States, to withdraw from
the Union, accompanied by a pledge on their part, to fulfill a1
the obligations which they had incurred, while they were members of it. Even if the right to withdraw were doubtful, an
acquiesence in the withdrawal was recommended by the most
powerful reasons. A question of abstract right is of no higher
dignity than one which, proposing to allay all difficulties, aud
stifle all animosities by the short road of concession, presents
a line of conduct so magnanimous, as to render it unnecessary
to recur to the abstract question of right. If the duties of the
citizen and the magistrate are often painful, and arduous in
the extreme, there are happily often more ways than one by
which they may be discharged, and by which the most scrupulous sense of justice may be reconciled with the most'generous
sentiments of patriotism.
1st. By not pursuing the first course, we have placed the
States which have seceded in a position the most advantageous
imaginable, and we have placed ourselves in one correspondingly disadvantageous. When the great body of the sober
and thinking part of the population at the North declared that
the complaints of their brethren were well founded, that the
remedy was within our reach, and should be instantly applied,
and when that remedy was not applied, the effect was to fortify the sense of right among the last, and to place them upon
high vantage ground, which can never be wrested from them.
When we refused to pursue the second course, and carelessly
assuming to play with the fortunes of eight millions of people,
as we would with the pieces on a chess-board, denounced them
as rebels, because they had thrown off their allegiance to us, we
presented to the whole world the unnatural spectacle of a majority of the members of a Confederation literally driving out
a minority, and then making war upon them, because they




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          49
were out. The effect of this singular policy has been to unite,
beyond any example, the whole of their people, to arm them
with an almost portentious energy, and to decree that they
shall be independent. It is not numbers, it is not any of the
external advantages of fortune, which decide a contest of this
character. It is the sense of right burning in the bosom, and
the firm and unshakable resolution not to be conquered, which
has ever determined the issue. All history is full of examples
to this effect, if we would only condescend to listen to them.
For while there is one class of minds which is continually recurring to history, even where-the analogies are very remote,
there is another class who con ceive that the condition of society
in their day is something sui generis, and, therefore, reject as
frivolous, and unmeaning, all the lessons which may be gathered up from the past. The whole history of our race is one
unbroken chain, connecting the past with the present, and the
present with the future; presenting the whole of mankind with
the same fundamental lineaments of character, and notifying
us, that the same general laws which have governed the actions
of one people, will, under the same circumstances, govern the
actions of every other people. In the commencement of the
sixteenth century, a revolution broke out in Germany, which,
although insignificant at first and derided as a rebellion, has
shaken the world. A minority of the German States embraced
the reformation, and entered into a league for their mutual
defense: and although they were surrounded, on all sides, by
vigilant enemies, were torn by dissensions among themselves,
and obliged to battle with the most powerful monarch of that
day, they ultimately achieved their independence, and stand
at this hour a warning to the powerful of the earth to be both.
wise, and just, before they attempt to strike. The case of the
seven provinces of Holland is equally remarkable. They composed a part of the fifteen provinces which belonged to Spain.
They embraced the reformation, while the majority clung to
the Catholic faith, and although their resources were small,
and their population not much more than a million, they
struggled for years, through almost superhuman difficulties,
beat down the power of the Spanish monarch, and established
an independence which has now lasted two centuries and a
half. The case of Switzerland, so memorable from the touch4




50        REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
ing events connected with the life of William Tell, is familiar
to the reader: and although that infernal pride, which often
persuades governments, as well as individuals, never to retract
an erroneous opinion, because it is their opinion, which even
makes them cling more obstinately to it, after it is proved to
be erroneous, prevented Austria from  ever acknowledging
their independence, the confederation of the Swiss cantons
stands up free and independent, amidst the worn-out monarchies which surround them. The history of the Huguenots
of France is still more instructive; in consequence of the
amazing fortitude and power of endurance which it shows
the human character to be capable of. They were an inconsiderable part of the population, not united together in one
part of the kingdom, so as to give them a separate, organiza-:tion, but scattered in different parts; yet because they were:armed with an indomitable energy, they fought battle after
battle, rose up strong after defeat, and when, apparently, they,were forever stricken to the ground, by the massacre of St.
Bartholomew, which cut off all their chiefs, and the flower of
their party, they entered the field the very next year, and
struggled with such an invincible constancy, and heroism, that
an edict of pacification, the edict of Nantes, was accorded to
them. And when, about eighty years after, that was repealed
by the despotic monarch, who proclaimed that he himself was
France, they again rose to their feet, and never ceased to make
battle until they achieved that complete independence which
they possess at this day.
2d. This is the first time in the history of the world, that a
civil war has been waged against a people who were already
in possession of a regularly organized government. The im-.mense advantage which this gives to the last, is obvious.;Instead of confused and distracted councils, union and concord
prevail, and the government marches with vigor, constancy,:and promptitude, to the execution of its schemes. Nothing of
the kind has ever occurred before. Civil wars, hitherto, have
been conducted on the one side by a long-established govern~ment, and on the other by a portion of the population in its
own bosom, but scattered in every direction, and frequently
compelled, as in the civil wars of England, Spain and France,
to display the standard of the very government against which




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          51
they were battling. The state of abandonment, in which they
found themselves, rendered it necessary to invent some fiction,
by which a character of unity might be given to their councils,
and a sanction afforded to their proceedings. There was no
way of doing this, but by borrowing the authority which regular government imparts. Government they had not, and they
therefore had recourse to the strange and singular device of
imagining themselves clothed with the authority of the government they were resisting, of countersigning all the orders which
were issued with the seal of that government, and unfurling
on the day of battle the flag which they hoped to scatter
to the winds. Instead of this, we have witnessed the still
more extraordinary spectacle of a people, who have withdrawn
from their former government, assembling a regular convention, as in time of profound peace, and proceeding with calmness, deliberation and foresight, to organize a common government, and to take all those steps which are calculated to
establish order in society, and to give stability to the public
councils, whether in peace or war.
3d. This gives to the revolution the character of a foreign,
rather than of a civil war. The States which have withdrawn
are in possession of an extensive territory, three times as
large as the kingdom of France, and now totally distinct from
that of the government against which they are arrayed.
They occupy, therefore, the commanding ground which the
acting in self-defense always gives. They conceive themselves
to be fighting in defense of their soil, in the defense of their
families, in defense of their tombs which inclose the ashes of
their ancestors. These are sentiments which, even where they
are delusive, impart wonderful energy and forecast to the human character, and I hardly know an instance in which they
have failed of success. The great advantage which is conferred upon a people who fight in defense of their soil may be regarded as a sort of providential dispensation. It is a protection thrown around them  alone, and is designed to guard
them against the enterprises of those who wage war for the
purpose of conquest, or the gratification of any of the malignant passions; a people may even be powerless for conquest,
and yet omnipotent in defense. If it is any part of the design, in the present unhappy war, to endeavor to execute the




52       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
execrable scheme, proposed by some persons of considerable
influence, both in and out of the cabinet, to foment a general
insurrection among the slaves, the time chosen is the most unpropitious imaginable.  The Southern country is bristling
with bayonets, all the resources of war are in the possession
of freemen, and an insurmountable impediment is thus presented to the accomplishment of this nefarious scheme. There
is no record anywhere to be found, in ancient or modern history, of a successful slave insurrection; this is the more remarkable, when we consider that the slaves of both ancient
and modern Europe, as well as of Asia, have always been of
the same race as their masters, and therefore infinitely more
on a level with them than is the Ethiopian. The reason why
history gives us no account of a successful slave insurrection,
not even that which was headed by a Roman senator, assisted
by the band of freemen, who gathered around his standard, is
that the moral energy possessed by the master, and every
other quality which gives strength to the human character,
confers upon him an indisputable advantage. It is, in other
words, an exemplification of the great maxim, that knowledge
is power. If it were not so, Europe at the present day, instead of being filled with an enlightened and industrious population, would, as in Africa, be covered with disorderly tribes,
and in possession of none of the arts of civilized society. The
warning given to the Emperor Napoleon, by his wisest counsellor, when he contemplated the invasion of Russia, was, "if
you do undertake it, your power will soon come to an end;
your throne will be dashed to pieces like this watch," casting
his watch violently upon the ground, and trampling upon it.
The same warning should have been given to the American
chief magistrate, both by his military and civil counsellors.
4th. In addition to these considerations, which so strongly
recommend themselves to our judgment, it cannot be concealed
that the most confused and contradictory views have by turns
been taken up, and then laid down by the cabinet, calculated
to enfeeble the public deliberations, and to inspire a total distrust in both its ability and integrity. At one time, a hearty
disposition was manifested to accede to the withdrawal of the
Southern States, and to listen to their proposals of accommodation, as the only wise, and consistent course which could be




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.           53
pursued: when, suddenly, and without any solid reason for
the change, it is determined to make war upon a grand scale.
I say, without any solid reason; for that a few politicians,g
remote from the seat of government, and having no legal connection with it, had erected themselves into a cabinet, outside
of the cabinet proper, and bad undertaken to direct the public
councils, afforded no reason why the government should abandon the course it had marked out for itself: it was a convincing reason why it should have adhered to it inflexibly. The
two great qualities of good government consists, first, in the
ability to exercise a wholesome restraint upon the scattered
members of society, without which there could be no government at all; second, in evincing a just susceptibility to impressions from without; in other words, to be open to the influence of public opinion. But the opinions promulgated by a
coterie, or by a number of individuals, the most unscrupulous
and presumptuous of their party, do not constitute public
opinion; but are, in truth, an open rebellion against public
opinion: and from the moment that a government yields to
their solicitations, it abjures its high calling, and forfeits all
title to our confidence and respect. It shows itself to be animated by a vicious ambition, for that it is a prey to the most
feeble irresolution. Moral courage, the courage which resists
moral difficulties, is the rarest, and yet it is the most indispensable quality of a true statesman. It is no answer to all this,
to say, that the present is a period of unexampled difficulty,
and that public men meet, on every side, with embarrassments
in the course they would pursue. These difficulties, and embarrassments, may have been avoided by the exercise of a
moderate share of judgment and good sense. Nor is it any
justification for a public man, who has wriggled himself into
office, to aver that the God of heaven has not conferred upon
him faculties sufficiently strong, and penetrating to look through
the difficulties which are ahead of him. Hfe should have modestly withdrawn from the field of public life, unlessi ndeed,
modesty is a term no longer to be found in the political vocabulary. Having chosen the position, he can no more avoid the
responsibility than the criminal who, being placed at the bar,
T "That crafty and subtle animal called a politician."-1-Adan Smith.




54       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRIISIS.
pleads as his defense, that he was not acquainted with the
laws of his country.
5th. The discordant, and contradictory opinions which prevail among the community generally and among members of
the party in power, are a no less remarkable feature of the remarkable spectacle which public affairs exhibit. The cabinet
has been over and over denounced in language the most savage, and audacious: the whole line of policy is sometimes held
up to ridicule, at others exposed to the most severe animadversion, and sometimes feebly vindicated; so that if a sedition
law is not enacted, it is not because government desires to treat
lightly the conduct of the party in opposition: it is because
it detests and fears the opinions of members of its own party,
~and is compelled to obey, because it fears them. The chief
magistrate, Congress, State Legislatures, and governors, have
been reproached with openly and frequently violating the Constitution, with having countenanced, or been parties to, the
most stupendous frauds, with having treated the soldiery
worse than a Southern planter is ever supposed to treat his
slaves. Is it surprising, then, that while the people yield an
outward obedience to a government which is thus humiliated,
and disgraced in its own eyes, that a very large proportion of
them both hate and despise it.
The united force of these considerations, or any one of themr
singly, is sufficient to make us pause in the career we are runDing, and to look about us, for some means of escape from the
perils which environ us. Even if an alteration in our line of
policy should be at the expense of our dignity, it will minister to the great interests of humanity, and restore a distracted country to peace and prosperity. ~"Strike, but hear
me," and reflect calmly, but fearlessly, whether the pride of
opinion, the love of striking upon the popular imagination, or
even the attachment to place and power, can be put in competition with the substantial interests of society, the approbation
of posterity, and the delicious satisfaction which the acting
with integrity and honesty imparts. Speculative opinions do
indeed exercise very little influence upon the conduct of men.
But opinions which are founded upon the experience and observation of those who have gone before us, and which bear
witness to the invariable conduct of men under the same cir



REFLECTIONS ON. TIE PRESENT CRISIS.           55
cumstances, can hardly be called speculative opinions; for
they have an immediate reference to the practical interests of
society, and should be hailed with approbation by the thoughtful and the discreet.
The nineteenth century has been conspicuously distinguished as the age of peace societies; as the age in which the wise
and reflecting of all countries, gathering up from all past history, the records of wars, and civil commotions, have been
brought to the conclusion, that they are fraught with misehief,
and may have been appeased by the exercise of a sound judgment, and that with the exception of those which have been
waged in self-defense, they usually leave the parties in the
end very neatly in the same condition as at their commencement.  Even the gigantic wars of the French Revolution
have left nearly all the European states in the same state as
they were before. This is one instance of the successful application of what are termed speculative opinions to the practical
affairs of society. I am aware, that peace societies themselves
are not of exotic growth, but are a part of that great general
movement of the human mind, which has overtaken us, since
the close of the wars of the French Revolution. But this
only shows that the same speculative opinions have taken
possession of the great bulk of society, and that they have
exerted so powerful an influence upon governments and peoples as to have established a longer general peace in Europe,
during the last forty-six years, than had been known during
the preceding two thousand. Let us be true to ourselves,
then, and considering that we are placed in the front ranks of
civilization, let us bear a becoming part in this great movement, the object of which is none other than to perpetuate
civilization to secure whatever there is of good and valuable in
society, and to reject whatever is vicious and injurious. We
shall, then, have doubly earned the title which has been awarded to us, that of being the freest, and the wisest governiment
which has existed. But if, fatally, we pursue a retrograde
course, we will have forfeited the title to either one or the
other.
I have reflected day after day during the last four months,
upon the unnatural spectacle which public affairs present;
and the more I have reflected, the more I have been perplexed




56        REFLECNIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
in discovering why everything has now fallen into disorder,
our political institutions falling one by one, and the laws of
the land constantly and openly violated. But the other day,
our prospects were bright, and our situation the most advantageous; we were rich, powerful, and free. Everything is
now changed; a dark cloud has gathered over us; and it is
difficult to see into the future, or even to explain the present.
These feelings are not peculiar to any one individual; they
are shared by great multitudes. But the appalling character
of these events, and the suddenness with which they have
come upon us, have almost stupefied our understandings, and
prevented that outburst of warm and generous feeling, which
would relieve the bosom, and enlighten the understanding.
In a country which held its destiny in its own hands, which
enjoyed a tranquillity, only varied by the busy hum of industry, we now witness the mingling of all sorts of passions, the
most furious, and loathsome; the thirst of gain, the thirst of
office, the thirst of unbridled power; fanaticism, and coldblooded speculation, open infidels, and professors of religion,
united hand in hand, and swearing eternal enmity to the Constitution of their country. It seems as if the hinges on which
society turned were suddenly snapped; as if there were no
longer a tribunal of public opinion, to which either the private, or the public' man, was amenable. Not less alarming is
the listlessness of great numbers, who, although they are deeply
impressed with the awful responsibility which rests upon all
of us; yet look upon what is transpiring as something which
can not be helped. Each feels that he is but a drop in the
bucket, and that his single voice, would be insignificant in the
strife: or the troubled times in which they live, by breaking
up the monotonous pursuits of peaceful life, act as an opiate
to their ennui.) They seem to say, let things run their course,
until the worst comes to the worst. All the efforts of the wise,
and considerate, have proved unavailing to rescue us from our
present condition: no one seems to have power to exorcise
the evil spirit which possesses our country: and we are almost
ready to admit, that this terrific struggle must proceed until
from the effect of sheer exhaustion, the passions are subdued,
and a door is opened for reason to enter in. I have remarked
on another occasion, that in times of great public commotion,




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          57
the minds of men are really disordered, and not merely exasperated. The remark was made with reference to another people; and I did not suppose, that it would so soon, or indeed
that it would ever, be verified in the case of our own country.
It is fortunate, therefore, that the very excess of the passions
carries with it its own antidote; that the load placed upon
human nature may be too great to bear, and that the wildest
disorders which have ever afflicted society have at last come
to an end by the wearing out of the passions, and the consequent need of repose. Then it is, that a new order of things
makes its appearance: the great body of conservative men,
not only those who were originally so, but those who have
been rendered so, by witnessing the frightful disorder of society, move into the front ranks, and finding the tone of public
opinion favorable to their efforts, succeed in reducing everything to order, and riveting more strongly than ever the bonds
which hold society together, extricate it at the very time when
everything seemed to be lost. How long it may take us to
pass through this ordeal, no one can pretend to predict, but
that it will come to pass, is as certain as that the sun shines
in the heavens. War is generally the result of an excess of
the passions, either in a rude community, or in a community
so highly civilized, that it has run riot with prosperity; and
one way of extinguishing these passions, is to give them full
exercise; when great multitudes are cut off from society, like
a diseased limb from the human body, and those who instigated the troubles are rendered powerless, from the want of
instruments to execute their purposes. The true meaning of
the French Revolution was that it was a spontaneous offort
of the nation to free itself, not merely of the king and noblesse,
but of the lRobespierres, Marats, and Santerres who contributed much more to demoralize society. "We must hasten
back to France," said Napoleon when in Egypt in 1799, "and
drive out the pourri,"* the rotten, and corrupt men, who had
usurped all power. No such violent means are requisite in
this country; the electoral privilege is all powerful.
No nation which ever existed has been exempt from the
occasional visit of what we may term a species of moral epidemics. In some respects, they resemble those physical epi* Alluding to the Directory, with the infamous Barras at its head.




58       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
demics which also occasionally invade a country. But they
differ from them in two respects: the causes of them are never
latent, and although they are on this account much more manageable, they, notwithstanding, last a much longer time. They
are a creation of the human will and passions, which have
boundless activity, and being assisted by a spirit of propagandism, not at all unnatural among large collections of men,
they kindle a spark, even in those parts of society, which
seemed to be best protected against their influence. The invasion of Virginia two years ago, by a band of marauders, struck
every one with astonishment: but it was generally considered
as one of those temporary ebullitions against which the best
constructed society can not always guard. But when the man
who headed that expedition, a man then red with blood, was
represented as a martyr, the bells tolled in some parts of the
country on the day of his execution, and the services of the
christian sanctuary defiled by blessings upon him, the sober,
and considerate men of the North, began to look around them,
and to inquire whether such things could come to pass, unless
what seemed to be a mere temporary outbreak of misguided
feeling, was instigated by great numbers in their own bosom,
and whether such schemes would not recoil, with terrible effect
upon their own heads. The event has proved that their fears
were well founded.
This state of things was ushered in some years ago, by the
startling declaration in a certain quarter, that slavery and
non-slavery could not exist in the same community, that the,
American States must all establish, or all abolish the institution of servitude.  Hence it was announced in the same
authoritative tone, that there must be an irrepressible conflict
between the two sections of the country, until one or the other
of these ends was accomplished. And as there was not the
least probability, that the State governments, which alone preside over their domestic institutions, would consent to do
either the one or the other, we were next stunned with the
still more startling declaration, in other quarters, that Congress must leap over the most solemn compacts contained in
the Constitution, and itself undertake to exterminate the institution. To this have lately succeeded all sorts of chimeras
and criminal projects; so that it is doubtful whether those




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          59
who unlocked their bosoms, to tell us in an inconceivable jargon all they desired, any longer recognized their mother tongue
as the language in which to speak plainly, sensibly, and honestly. About forty years ago, there existed in Paris a club of
politicians, who were familiarly known by the name of niais
or noodles, whose vocation consisted in uttering the most absurd and extravagant opinions, with great gravity, and so
much empressment as to catch the ear and please the fancy of
all those who labored under any obliquities of understanding.
And I suppose we shall have to call by the same name the
sect which have put forth among us such amazing vagaries.
We can well afford to let others expatiate ever so freely, and
even to revel in opinions which, however absurd, do not touch
others; but when they undertake to make a practical application of them to whole bodies of men, to whom they are totally
alien we can no longer look upon them with the same complacent air, but are bound to mark them with the most severe
reprobation. And why are slavery and non-slavery existing in
different States of a confederate government incompatible?
No one can give any just, and sensible reason why they should
be. The confederate form of government was established for
the express purpose of leaving to the State jurisdictions the
exclusive control of their domestic interests, and thus preventing any interference with or by the governments of the
other States: and it is most certain, that the two sections of
the country have actually lived side by side of each other, and
for so considerable a period as to show that there is no natural
incompatibility between their respective institutions. During
the great struggle between Catholics and Protestants in France,
it was the constant assertion of the French kings, that there
could and should, be but one religion in the kingdom. This
opinion was proclaimed by Charles IX.; and in order to give
practical effect to it, he instigated, and personally assisted in,
the massacre of St. Bartholomew. The same opinion was constantly in the mouth of Louis XIV., who repealed the edict of
Nantes, for no other purpose than to give effect to this pernicious maxim. The king in his robes is jealous of any other
authority but his own, and he, therefore, seeks to make his
opinions the law of the land: the lillipution kings in a republic feebly imitate him, when they declare, that any opinions




60       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
inconsistent with their own cannot, and ought not, to be permitted to exist. But how is the case in France. Never, until
Protestants and Catholics were placed on the same footing,
each enjoying its own opinions, and practicing its own rites,
was anything like peace and tranquillity known in the kingdom. Protestants in Catholic France were admitted to all
political rights even earlier than Catholics were in Protestant
England. The true way of preventing a collision between
opinions and institutions, which are not the same as our own,
is to accord to them the same liberty which we enjoy. Tbey
never interfere with each other, until they are conceived to be
incompatible. We create the strife, and then call upon others
to search for the cause somewhere else..
I do not know but what Mr. Burke exaggerated, when in
pleading the cause of the America rebels in 1777, before the
British public, he pointed to the people of the Southern provinces as being animated by the spirit of liberty, even beyond
those of the North; but most assuredly the passion is fully as
strong among them as it is among their late brethren of the
North. The same political institutions prevail in both. Domestic manners and habits, not less than-the laws, are a very
fair index of the condition of political society: and I do not
believe that a more tranquil, and orderly society, has ever been
known than has existed in the States south of Mason and
Dixon's line. Doubtless, this is in great part to-be attributed
to the absence of great cities, and to the rural life of the inhabitants:.but it is with the fact, not the cause, that we have
now to deal. I do not believe, that there is any people who,
in the walks of private life, are more amiable, frank, and generous, and more addicted to the virtues which render life both
an ornament and a blessing; none in which the religious sentiment is more strongly marked, and in which the doctrines of
infidelity are so little known, and countenanced. Nothing,
therefore, can be conceived more shocking, both to our humanity and good sense, than to tell us that an institution removed
from our own borders, and alongside of which so many virtues,
both private and public, have grown up, was incompatible
with our happiness and enjoyment, and that a people who have
assisted in building up the fabric of our government, and in
guiding its councils, until, in the language of an eminent Eng



REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          61
lish statesman, it had become " the wonder of the world," was
such a nuisance to us that they must be exterminated. It would
rather occur to us, that those who utter such horrid maledictions against eight millions of their fellow-creatures should be
strait-waistcoated and placed in an asylum for the incurables.
In the prosecution of a war schemes are frequently contemplated which are not openly avowed. And one end which the
party in power now intend to accomplish may be to strike
down their adversaries at home. This is no new conception,
but has been floating in the minds of politicians, time out of
mind, whenever there was a plausible ground of war, and a
powerful party at home whom it was desirable to crush. The
dying advice of Henry IV. of England to his son Henry V. was
to prosecute the war against France, as the most effectual way
of curbing the independent spirit of his subjects at home. And
so late as 1793, it was boldly asserted in Parliament, by the
leaders of the Whig party, that the war with France was undertaken, principally, with a view to stifle the opinions of that
party. And this was adnmitted by the party in power. But such
schemes never fail to recoil upon those who have planned and
acted upon them. The effect has been to elevate the Whig
party permanently to power. But the baleful influence of that
war is still felt, nearly half a century since its termination. It
has entailed a debt upon England so enormous that it can
never be paid, and has rendered it necessary, in order even to
pay the interest, to invent a most oppressive system of taxation. " The youngest man living (says Lord Brougham) will
not survive the fatal effects of this flagrant political crime."
The project of destroying a great party in the United States,
which has subsisted since the first formation of the government, is obviously chimerical, and would, if it were practicable,
be as absurd as to cut off one of our members in order to add
strength to the whole body. Parties are the genuine offspring
of our defects, but as we cannot get rid of the defects, because
they are inherent in our nature, we must consent to accept the
unavoidable consequences which flow from them. But, assuredly, the most unpromising means of ridding ourselves of a
party, or of assuaging its temper, would be to organize another
party which was animated by the most malevolent passions,
and which contemplated schemes so hideous, and repulsive, as




62       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
to make us shrink from the very mention of them. A party in
opposition, which is witness to such things, may be made to
thrive and multiply in consequence, but it cannot be eradicated. We live at a period when vice and crime, although
sheltered under the mantle of power, cannot be so skillfully
organized into system as to have a permanent endurance. The
great majority of mankind are instinctively averse to such
things, and never fail in process of time to revolt against
them. For although the defects of our character give rise to
parties, human nature has many noble qualities mingled with
those defects; and these never show themselves to such advantage or exert so marked an influence, as when great violence is offered to them, either by individuals or parties.
Parties in a state are like the rival facalties in the individual,
which tend constantly to rectify each other. The very partywhich
was once distinguished for the boldness of its designs becomes
reformed, by witnessing the still bolder and more unscrupulous
designs of an antagonist party. And thus it has happened, that
the Whig party in England, and the Democratic party in the
United States, which were at one time characterized by a restless spirit of innovation, are now converted into two great conservative parties. The difference between the Whig and Tory
party in England has been almost nominal since 1846, when
the last hand was put to the great work of reform, by the
repeal of the corn laws. But the difference between the two
great American parties is now wider than ever. NTot only so,
but the two parties have entirely changed character.  While
the Democratic party is eminently conservative, the Republican party is not merely radical, but it is the most radical party
which has risen up in this century, except, perhaps, the Carbonari in Italy and Spain, and the Socialists in France. The
existence of the Democratic party must, then, be regarded as
a sort of providential dispensation, and its services cannot be
dispensed with in preventing the hand of violence from overthrowing the Constitution, and introducing wild disorder in
every part of the country.
The source of the dissensions which have agitated our
country for so many years, has been sought in the great
diversity of character between the Northern and Southern
people. There is something forbidding in manners which are




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CEISIS.          63
different from our own, and we are apt to look upon those who
are not like ourselves as strangers and foreigners. But the
difference between the two sections of the country is not as
great as is imagined: and if the Northern and Southern man
did not each know, that they were inhabitants of different
regions, the difference would be no longer annoying. Knowing
it, the difference is magnified into one of great importance;
and then, and only then, the collision between them becomes
sharp and acrimonious: for we are, after all, mere children in
our prepossessions, and require a great deal of coaxing in order
to be pacified, and kept in order. A real difference of manners
and character between two peoile hlas frequently been overcome by mixing them indiscriminately on the same soil, and
establishing a consolidated government over them. This has
been the case both in England and lFrance. In England, the
Saxons and NKormans have been very gradually melted into
one people; and in France, the various races of which the
nation was once composed are hardly distinguishable. But
still we are assured by the most acute observer from abroad of
American society, that "6 there is more difference in the character of the people of Picardy and Normandy, who are only
separated by a bridge, than there is between the men of Maine
and Georgia, who live more than a thousand miles apart."*
The difference between the Scotch and English is fully as great
as between our northern and southern population; indeed, the
New England people are frequently characterized in Europe
as the Scotch of America. And yet the two branches of the
British family live in perfect peace and concord, although the
dividing line between them is the same as when they were two
separate kingdoms, and the domestic institutions of Scotland
are guaranteed to her forever. Where a people are descended
from the same race, possess political institutions of the same
character, and have advanced to a high state of civilization,
there cannot be any reasonable ground for a collision between
them, although one portion of them is separated from the other
by a line. The difference is only calculated to give animation
to society; while the different productions of each section is
calculated to rivet them together with bars of iron. I cannot
~ De Tocqueville.




64       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
help thinking, then, that the declaration in a certain quarter,
that the South and the North were born to hate each other,
was only a pretext for opening disputes of another character;
and that when the people were really made to hate each other,
in consequence of. repeated declarations of the same kind, enterprises might be embarked in which would not otherwise
have been thought of.
It is time, then, that all this solemn trifling with interests
the most ponderous and delicate should be put aside; that we
should no longer, with a knowing laugh on one side of the
face, and a dark look on the other, aim a blow at ourselves,
because it will reach our enemies; or that we should consent
to undermine our institutions, brutalize the manners of the
people, and squander, without scruple, the blood and treasure
which the hand of Providence has bestowed upon us, with the
single design of enabling us to avoid all these things.
As the conduct of the individual is greatly influenced by the
examples around him, in like manner, the conduct and manners
of a whole people are powerfully affected by the collective
sentiments and opinions which are prevalent at the time. And
this is what we denominate public opinion. It is the reflection
of those sentiments and feelings which are common to men as
members of a society; and as the social feelings rise above
those which are merely personal, they have a constant tendency
to modify and correct the last. As they are also more powerful, they ultimately succeed in ruling the world; and hence
public opinion becomes a mighty instrument in the government of mankind. The feelings which are personal to the
individual, the appetites, propensities, and passions, are undoubtedly more vehement and constant in their operation,
than those which are of a social character: but the last have
this great advantage, that they are combined in a collective
form, and as such, exert a more decisive influence upon men
as citizens. I am now describing what is the natural and
usual character of public opinion, and not what is always its
character: for there are periods when it is singularly perverted
from its true office, that of acting as a salutary restraint upon
the passions; periods when the selfish and anti-social feelings
gain the ascendency, and are made to represent the collective
will of the community. A genuine public opinion is the rep



REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.           G5
resentative of the social feelings only, and, as such, contributes
powerfully to correct idiosyncrasies of individuals; while a
bastard and vicious public opinion constantly tends to pervert
the first to magnify the last. A city ruled by a mob affords
an idea of the one; a city in which the laws are obeyed and
respected and the inhabitants pursue their accustomed avocations, without molestation, is an example of the other. Fortunately, a state of misrule cannot, in the nature of things, be
the condition of society for any considerable period. It must
come to an end, in consequence of its interference with the
most common interests of menl of all classes, and all parties.
The passions and propensities, having once gained the mastery, are undistinguishing in their fury. The unbridled licentiousuess, which the Brissotine faction in France encouraged,
carried all their chiefs to the scaffold, and brought ruin upon
the whole party. The same was the case with the parties
which succeeded. Danton, Rlobespierre, Marat, all fell victims
to the very passions which they had kindled for the purpose
of fortifying their own power. And it was a joyful day for
France when the loathsome disease to which it had been a
prey began to decline; when the great body of considerate
persons took the lead, and " the gilded youth of Paris "-the
sons of the substantial citizens-guarded the streets, and, as
if by enchantment, restored tranquillity to a people trodden
down by their friends, not by their enemies.
The elements which are requisite to the formnation of a soun d
public opinion, are first, the dispersion of knowledge, property
and liberty; and secondly, the presentation of outwar(l incentives, strong enough to develop and give exercise to the socialqualities. This is of great importance. The opinions and conduct of both individuals and societies, depends nearly as much,
upon outward causes as upon the moral and mental qualities,.
which are inherent in the character. But as these last always.
discover themselves by some visible manifestations, they become incentives to all other individuals, and to society at large..
It is only necessary to contrast the England and Germany of
the present day, with the England and Germany of one hundred years ago, in order to perceive the great efficacy of all the
causes which I have enumerated. It frequently, indeed most
commonly, happens, that knowledge, property, and freedom,.
5




66       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
are diffused among an inconsiderable part of the population:
and this gives rise to that extent to a public opinion. But it
is a very limited, and contracted public opinion; and affords
a very inadequate notion of that potent instrument by which
societies of men are won over to obedience to the laws. One
hundred years ago, there was an ample distribution of knowledge, property, and freedom, among the higher ranks: but the
rest of society was a barren waste. The control exercised over
the first was feeble, and they did very much as they pleased.
Their manners were depraved, and their conduct in public life
was marked by acts of cruelty and perfidy, of which the common people were the victims. Very different is the case where
knowledge is even tolerably diffused, and property and liberty:are more equally distributed. These confer power: all orders
-of men are subjected to a restraint more or less strict; and
there is no longer an unlimited field for the indulgence of
public or private excesses. "Never," said Lord Liverpool
forty-five years ago, i" have I opened a package while I was
miinister without feeling a tremor."  Public opinion in his day
begau to press with a heavy weight upon public men. It was.exactly the transition period from the government of a close;aristocracy, to the government of the middle class. Neither,Cecil, Buckingham, or Strafford, trembled before public opin-;ion. It was their powerful ally.
It would seem to follow from these views that public opinion
-should be both more powerful and more sound, in a country
where free institutions are established, than in any other. I:say established, because such institutions may be introduced
in a State, last for a period and then decay. There are two
kinds of revolutions; social, and political. A social revolution
endures, and the political institutions, which grow out of it,,seldom exhibit any disposition to a fundamental change. But.a political revolution, not accompanied with a corresponding,change in the character and manners, is invariably short-lived.
England, in the time of Charles the First, was not prepared
for constitutional government.; but it was at the time of the:revolution in 1689. The groundwork of society was then sensibly changed. The American revolution was preceded by a
social revolution of very long duration. It commenced with
-the Puritans and low churchmen of England, numbers of whom




REFLECTIOFS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          67
emigrated to America, and finding themselves untrammelled
by either civil or ecclesiastical authority, gradually built up a
system of government, in which, for the first time, political
and religious liberty were reconciled.
During the last thirty five years, when public opinion in
England has acquired a sound and healthful character, and
where it has therefore become a great power in the state, the
English government have manifested a constant disposition to
consult and obey it. The reforms which have been effected
exceed in number and magnitude all which had been accomplished during:the preceding one hundred and forty years.
Parliament commenced with those laws which afflict the citizens as individuals, and did  not touch the political laws until
the public mind had become familiarized with a great improvement on a smaller scale. The criminal code had been likened
to the laws of Drac6 for the severity of its punishments. The
number of capital offenses exceeded altogether those of any
state on the Continent; and although much the greater part
of these laws had become a dead letter, the executions were
more frequent than in any other European state. At present,
instead of one hundred and fifty, there are only two or three
offenses which are punished capitally. The reformation of the
commercial code in its most uncouth and antiquated features,
was next undertaken, and the navigation laws of Cromwell
and Charles tne Second were repealed. The enlightened spirit
in which these measures were conceived, led the public mind
to take a much larger view, and to carry the work of reform
into the political laws. The nation had been indebted to freedom of inquiry for all that was valuable, in their constitution
and laws; and although there was every disposition to cling
to ecclesiastical authority as one instrument of government,
this plan was no longer inconsistent with the most liberal concessions to all classes of dissenters. The Catholics were no
longer the Catholics of the sixteenth, or seventeenth centuries,
but had partaken, in almost every part of Europe, of the great
general movement, which had made the Protestants to be
Protestants. The test and corporation acts were repealed,
and the more comprehensive bill for Catholic emancipation
was passed. It is often the case now that the most important
measures are carried by the junction of a large number of the




68       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
opposite party, with the party which first suggested and undertook to accomplish them: and this is the first instance in
which this change is discovered. The influence of public opinion is not confined to one pait of society, or to one order of
men; but reaches, sooner or later, all sections, and all classes,
whether they will or no. This most wise and politic act had
scarcely been passed, when the most vehement desire for Parliamentary reform was exhibited throughout the kingdom.
Never was the English mind more deeply stirred, and never
was the force of an enlightened public opinion more strikingly
disclosed. The king, although obstinately opposed to the
measure, in the first instance, bowed to the power of public
opinion; the nobility, equally determined, yielded; and the
reasonable adjustment of this agitated subject, has produced
so great a calm, that the only wonder in England is, that it,
was so long left undone. The only desire now among statesmen of both parties, is in what way shall its provisions be
extended, so as to embrace a still larger part of the population,
and to convert into active citizens, great numbers who are still
passive spectators. Liberty communicates power; and this
enlightened measure was quickly succeeded by municipal reform, by which the close corporations of cities, the relic of
Gothic legislation, were abolished, and all the substantial citizens were allowed to vote. This list of reforms was finally
crowned by the act which repealed the corn laws. The importance of this measure, in a political point of view, cannot
be overestimated. It deals with very homely interests; but
it has a direct and extensive bearing upon the social condition
of the population, and, in this way, upon the political machinery of the government.
The most important consideration which is suggested by
these triumphs of genuine freedom, is that all of them were
concessions and compromises. They were a homage, by those
invested with power, to a sound and enlightened public opinion. The insurrection in 1817, and the Cato-street conspiracy
in 1820, which resembled in boldness and atrocity, the famous
gunpowder plot, were prognostics of those great changes in
public opinion which were taking place in England and Scotland. The alarming sedition in Ireland, in 1828, led, the next
syear, to the magnanimous concession by which Catholics of




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          69
both England and Ireland where emancipated, and an end put
to that religious persecution which had placed beyond the pale
of civilization so large a part of the population. Catholics, no
longer lived in, and under the government, but were imade
partakers of its privileges and authority, by being admitted to
all offices in the kingdom  except two. The insurrection in
1831, in England, Scotland and Ireland, was followed the
next year by the great act of Parliamentary reform, by which
more than one hundred close boroughs were disfranchised,
and the electoral privilege transferred from decayed towns to
cities, and counties, filled with a thriving and intelligent population. It was not long before this fermentation of men's
minds, this working of public opinion, was manifested in all
the British colonies. The insurrection in Canada, in 1837,
was a violent protest against the unnatural authority exercised by the home government, which being removed more
than two thousand miles, was necessarily unacquainted with
the wants and interests of the people. That event has been followed by a series of concessions, which are just now perfected
by great prudence and sagacity, and which have made all the
North American colonies partakers of Magna Charta and the
British constitution. They now possess independent legislatures which preside over their domestic interests, without any
interference on the part of the English Parliament. A similar
measure would, in the opinion of Dr. Franklin, have appeased
the complaints of the American people in 1775, and, at least,
have postponed the Revolution to a distant day. In 1839, the
violent disturbances in the West Indies were occasioned by
the same causes, and were reconciled in the same manner. It
is remarkable, that in every one of these instances, a military
force was at first employed: but brute force has never succeeded in stifling public opinion, except for the moment. The
English people were made to ponder more seriously upon the
disproportion between their growing knowledge, and the slender rights they possessed: and the English Ministry, carried
along by the general movement, yielded, conceded, compromised, and have rendered the present age by far the most
memorable in the history of English legislation.
It might be supposed, that there was no country in the
world, which afforded so fair an opportunity for the growth of




70       REFLECTIONS ON THlE PRESENT CRISIS.
a sound, and healthy public opinion as the United States.
Knowledge, property, and liberty are diffused to an extent unknown anywhere else. The people have been habituated to
hlabits of industry, and have prospered beyond example; and
the political, and civil institutions, which covered them, were
every way fitted to develop a genuine love of freedom, as well
as to guard the rights of the citizen. All the incentives, both
within and without, to a discreet, and prudent conduct, on the
part of individuals, and to a wise, and just conduct, on the
part of Government, were in full vigor; and yet at the very
period, when we stand most in need of all the supports, which
are necesary to prop up our institutions, we are abandoned by
them and left defenseless before the attacks of both private
and public violence. Public opinion is no longer a restraining, but a disturbing force. This is anomalous in the history
of American society, and whether it threatens to be permanent, or is only of temporary duration, it demands some explanation. There are periods, when a turn may be observed
in the current of popular opinion, similar to the turn which
takes place in the constitution of individuals. The change
may have commenced long before there is any visible symptom of its approach. But it gradually acquires strength, and
if any opportunity occurs which affords a vent to the passions, the new opinions burst out with violence, which is often
uncontrollable. This opportunity is afforded by some unhappy event in public affairs. Nothing else can have power
to give so sudden a direction to public sentiment: for its
name imports, that it is for the time being the'expression of
the aggregate opinion of the major part of the population;
and the most judicious course which can be pursued, is to forestall the event by a quick discernment of the process which is
taking place, what is its character, and whither it is tending; and this done, to apply those remedies which are calculated to allay passions, and appease discontent. For although passions, when raised to a certain pitch, are eager to
find out some way of gratifying themselves; this may be
effected by giving them a different direction, and by calling
into exercise rival feelings to counterbalance them. But all
this requires prudence, sagacity, and foresight, in a high degree; and these are qualities in which men are necessarily




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.           71
more deficient, as regard public affairs, than they are with regard to their private and domestic interests. Foresight generally comes too late; the hand of time is placed back a year,
and we are found unprepared, when we should be most vigilant and active. Certainly he must have a strangely constituted mind, who would not now admit, if he were free to
speak, that it would have been infinitely better, if one or
other of the alternatives, which I have before suggested lhad
been adopted last winter.  Hlow smooth every thing would
have been: no jar given to society, the Constitution, and the
laws, in the plentitude of their authority, the private citizenl
undisturbed by acts of violence. One of the chief offices of
public opinion, in those disastrous periods, which threaten the
safety of society, is to ascertain the popular pulse; so that
the statesman may, like a skillfull physician, apply palliatives,
instead of provocatives, to the disease. To give full scope to
the passions, at such a time, is to give them an ascendency
over all public motives: and hence the singular phenomenon
is sometimes presented of a public opinion, which is anti-social
and an exaggerated expression of the selfish feelings. This
may be the case, although such feelings are not shared by the
majority of the population. In times of great public commotion, the current which blows steadily and with most force, is
for the time being, mistaken for public opinion. It is at least
the opinion of a class, or sect, more or less numerous, and is
therefore invested with some of the character of public opinion. This sect is usually composed of the most daring and
active members of a party; and like a compact body of soldiers, overawes, for a time, its owni, as well as the adverse
party. The most remarkable instance of the power of public
opinion, which I recollect, is the manner in which the press
came to be free in England. No law has ever been passed declaring it to be so. But public opinion at the time of the
Revolution in 1688 would have it so; and no Parliament has
ventured to revive the censorship which before existed. The
press is the chief organ by which all parties make their opinions known. The speculations and views which are promulgated from time to time, may be considered as so many experiments, set on foot, to ascertain the bent of the public mind,
and then by seasonable hints, judicious views, and informa



72        REFLEC'rIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
tion, which would have been overlooked, to correct the aberrations of one or the other, or of both parties. This is the
inevitable result, even though we should suppose that neither
party had this object directly in view. The communication of
our thoughts, through ever so many channels, is the only way
in which valuable truths, in every other department of knowledge, are brought to light, and it would be very remarkable if
politics formed an exception, when it touches so closely upon
the highest, as well as the humblest interests of society. PtLblie opinion was unknown anywhere before the Press was established. There are now some symptoms of its existence, even
in Turkey, where journals have sprung up.
But what is the spectacle now exhibited? The freedom of
the press violently assailed, arnd a declaration, that all the
journals shall be brought into absolute obedience, not to the
Constitution and laws, but to the commands of the government. During the "reign of terror," for so it was called,
which prevailed in England from 1793 to 1801, the plan adopted was not to destroy the printing establishments, but to harras and intimidate the publishers, by wanton and incessant
prosecutions, until, at length, jurors alarmed by the fatal
course which government was pursuing, refusdcl to bring in.
verdicts of conviction. And Lord Campbell, in his lives of
the Chancellors, declares (vol. vi., page 449) that " if the laws
passed had been enforced, there would have been no way of
escaping servitude but by civil war." As there is no sedition
law in force in the United States, the only expedient left to
those who believe that mankind should be governed by brute
force, is to destroy the printing establishment. At the very
time when the Emperor of France has announced his determination to remove all restraints form the press, we have
embarked in the fatal plan of cutting up the institution by
the roots. And, as if this were not sufficient to curb the spirit
of a high-minded and independent people, we are told in the
same breath that it is the design of government, to establish
a domestic police throughout the land, by which even freedom
of speech shall be stifled. We are wearied, to satiety, with
the blessings which our simple, but sturdy institutions have
brought to our doors, and are invited to search in the dark
caverns of Austrian and Italian politics, in order to fashion




REFLECTIONS ON TIHE PRESENT CRISIS.        73
them anew. Let us rather discard all these pernicious schemes;
avow that there is but one policy worthy of being pursued,
and covering ourselves with the mantle of the illustrious dead,
hold fast to the great principles handed down by the Fathers
of the Republic.
Secrecy is the invariable characteristic of a government
which is arbitrarily administered. As its proceedings have
no countenance from the laws, and no root in the affections of
the people, they are conducted in silence and obscurity: and
if the forms of the Constitution are of such publicity as occasionally to unmask them, they are instantly defended by all
sorts of sophistry and hollow plausibilities; and if these win
the confidence of the public, the government takes courage:
it assumes the character of master, and marches with a bold
and steady step to the execution of its purposes. The wisest
and strongest institutions are insensibly undermined; public
opinion, which was their chief support, is perverted from its
high office. Anything may now be attempted, not because it
is right, but because it is commanded.
It is but lately that I have been so fortunate as to meet with
the laws passed at the July session of Congress. When it
was announced that an act of indemnity had been passed, absolving the chief magistrate from all blame for his repeated
and flagrant violations of the Constitution, I immediately detected the imposture, or, to speak in the mildest languge, the
unpardonable inadvertence which had been committed. But
I deferred any notice of the act until I had an opportunity of
examining the laws. This I have now been able to do. But
it was with great difficulty that I was able to ferret out this
law from the obscurity in which it was industriously hidden.
I examined, as would be the natural and obvious course of
every one, the title of every law in the volume, and could find
none which professed to be an act of indemnity, or which by
the remotest implication, could be supposed to convey that
meaning. The only course which remained to be pursued,
was to begin with the volume, peruse every law in detail, and
thus drag to light the obnoxious and unconstitutional act I
was in search of. Its title is "6 an act to increase the pay of
the privates in the regular army, and the volunteers, and for
other purposes."  The representatives of the people have




74       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
shrunk from  the course usually pursued, that of giving a
plain and appropriate title to their law. They have concealed
its drift, where it should have been most legible. But the
reader will be still more surprised to learn, that the body of
the act is as provokingly ambiguous and obscure as the title.
The third section declares, that " all the acts, proclamations,
and orders of the President, after the 4th of March, 1861,
respecting the army and navy of the United States, and calling out or relating to the militia, or volunteers from the States,
are hereby approved, and in all respects legalized and made
valid, to the same intent, and with the same effect, as if they
had been issued and done under the express authority of the
Congress of the United States."  Thus are huddled together
a multitude of unlawful acts without specifying one of them,
and in language so dark and insidious, that the reader is
unable to discriminate between them, so as to make a clear
application of their meaning. As there is a fundamental
distinction between acts which infringe the Constitution and
acts which infringe the laws, it was of infinite importance to
separate them, and honestly and manfully to declare whether
both classes were intended to be comprehended in the law.
The language should have been precise and unequivocal, as it
is in those ordinary acts which only touch upon the inferior
interests of society. No man, whatever his powers of discrimination may be, can say whether the act comprehends the
constitutional provision relative to the writ of habeas corpus,
or any other violation of the Constitution; although he may
divine that it was the intention to include them. The secret
intention of the lawgiver is one thing, and the language of his
acts is another. No intention other than that which is unequivocally expressed is permissible. The intention must be
gathered from a fair and legitimate interpretation of the act:
otherwise our laws would be a jumble of crude, incoherent,
and illegal provisions. Commencing with this as a fundamental rule in jurisprudence, we not only may, but must,
affirm, that none of those acts which so violently infringed
the Constitution were intended to be included in the act of
the 6th of August.
I have constantly observed, that persons who give themselves up to tortuous ways, in order to escape from any false




REFLECTIONS ON TIHE PRESENT CRISIS.          75
step they have taken, invariably fall into still greater difficulties, and unmask themselves by the very effort which they
make to conceal themselves. The act is silent as the grave
on the subject of the habeas corpus act; although the country, at the time, was ringing with denunciations of the highhanded and arbitrary infringement of the constitutional provision which guards it: and yet the opinion generally, I may
say universally, prevails, that even this has been attempted to
be legalized. There must, then, have been a secret intention
to give the law this effect: and this sinister intention, spreading like those pestilential diseases which occasionally afflict a
country, has communicated its contagion everywhere, has actually superseded the law, and usurped to itself all power and
authority. It was remarked at the time, by one of the leading
editors of a Republican journal, that "by adroit management
the habeas corpus act had been omitted in the bill of indemnity." And well might he say so; for none but one who was
hackneyed in the last refinement of casuistical subtletly would
infer that in a country, hitherto distinguished for its plainspoken people, an intention to include it could have been entertained; and it is only on the supposition that it was the
secret intention to include it that we are compelled to say, that
never was law so obscure, so wily, and so ambiguous, framed
by the wit of man: a law capable of being whispered as an
act of indemnity for all unconstitutional acts, while at the
same time a hiding place was reserved whence it might be
proclaimed, with infinite plausibility, that it only legalized infractions of legislative acts. For, first, if it is possible so to
interpret a law, as to prevent it from attempting to commit a
criminal, much more an impossible act, that is the interpretation which we are bound to give it. Second, the law is framed
in terms so general that it admits of this construction. Third,
the law has not even, in a general way, the remotest reference
to the violation of the constitutional provision relative to the
writ of habeas corpus, or to any other invasion of the Constitution. Fourth, it expressly refers "to the acts, proclamations, and orders of the President, respecting the army and
navy of the United States, or relating to the militia, or volunteers from the States," and to nothing besides. It is, then,
more than doubtful whether the flagrant usurpation of power




76       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
in the case of Jno. Merrimnan, and so many others, has even
been attempted to be legalized: in which event, the Chief
Magistrate still stands before the country the most heinous
offender in it.  He stands with all his delinquencies fresh
upon him, and not the less revolting that they threaten to
spread like a gangrene over the whole population.  But I
have constantly observed, that while there is everywhere a
strong disposition to magnify the faults and delinquencies of
men in the humble walks of life, there is an equally strong
disposition to extenuate those of the powerful and influential.
This is the case even in a republic, whose democratic institutions were devised for the purpose of balancing the judgment,
and maintaining an equilibrium between the strong and the
weak. Our disposition to sympathize with the first, was intended to protect them from the envy of the second; and in
this way to assist them in the regular and legitimate exercise
of their functions. When it is turned from this purpose, it
confounds all our notions of right and- wrong, and converts
the republic@into a wild and licentious mobocracy. It would
be infinitely better, then, to give that interpretation to the
law which absolves the legislature, but involves the Chief
Magistrate in guilt: for an act of indemnity, for unconstitutional acts, would itself be the most flagrant violation of the
Constitution which has been committed, even in this age of
extravagant and unbridled power. Such an act would be absolutely null and void: but as there is no way of reaching the
majority of a legislative body, either by impeachment or expulsion, we are compelled to wait upon the slow, but invariable operation of public opinion, which overtakes the guilty,
whether of high or of low degree, and whatever may be the
precautions they have taken to conceal their motives, or the
ramparts they have drawn around themselves to fortify their
influence.
If they who proposed the law of indemnity intended to comprehend unconstitutional acts, they have either deceived themselves through an unpardonable ignorance of the institutions
of their country, or they have willfully attempted to deceive
others. If the first is the case, they have been guided by precedents which English history may be supposed to afford.
There is no analogy, but, on the contrary, a striking con



REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.           77
trast between the two cases; and all reasoning borrowed from
that quarter is fallacious and calculated to produce the most
alarming consequences. The English Constitution is the offspring of Parliamentary legislation: the American Constitution is the offspring of a Convention of the People. The
English Constitution is composed of laws which derive their
authority from the legislature, although they relate to interests
of greater magnitude than the ordinary laws. They are therefore, of no higher authority than Parliament.  Parliament
may alter, modify, or repeal, any of those laws which compose
the Constitution.  The American Constitution controls the
legislative power, and places beyond its reach all of the fundamental ordinances of the government. All this is clear enough
from the mere statement; and to conceive the statement requires no great reach of thought. So that it is difficult to
assign the precise reasons which influenced Congress in passing the law of indemnity, whether it was from egregious ignorance, from a hasty inadvertence, or from  a premeditat,3d
design to trample upon the Constitution, whenever it presented an obstacle to the gratification of a malignant design,
or to the accomplishment of a favorite scheme of policy. But
as men generally prefer that the rectitude of their motives
should be impeached, rather than that their understanding
should be disparaged, we may, with great reason, attribute
the passage of this! extraordinary law to the first cause. We
may well suppose that they who contrived it were aware of
the dangerous ground upon which they were treading; that
they readily perceived that sinister ends can only be accomplished by sinister means; that it was necessary, however,
after committing themselves to assume a bold front and to
advance with an intrepid step; that in times of great public
excitement the fervor of political zeal among some, the credulity of others, and the slavish submission of not a few, would
be sufficient to uphold them, in any line of policy they might
venture to pursue; that at any rate, in the din and confusion
of public affairs, all voices would be drowned in the general
uproar; and that in no event could they be made amenable to
justice. They intended, in case the storm of public indignation should burst upon them, to take shelter under the pretext,
that the law did not admit of their own interpretation, and




78       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
that this was demonstrated by a fair and legal construction
of it.
In reviewing English legislation upon this subject, it will be
found to be of a totally different character. The laws were
penned with precision and clearness, and they have generally
been enacted for the purpose of mitigating the extreme rigor
with which former laws bore upon the citizen, and thus to disarm power of its ability to do mischief. Very different is the
character of the bill of indemnity of the 6th of August. Its
whole scope consists in an effort to strengthen the arm of
power, and to sharpen more keenly the weapons of punishment. The most remarkable instances of the exercise of this
power in Great Britain have been in the case of the test and
corporation acts. These acts were passed in the dark reign
of Charles the Second. The first was chiefly aimed at the
Catohlics; the second at the Protestant Dissenters. The first
exacted an oath, inconsistent with the religious rights of Catholics; the second required certain qualifications from Protestant Dissenters, equally inconsistent with their civil and religious rights. Both acts were intended to effect a total exclusion from office, and both were accompanied with severe
penalties. For, although the Dissenters were compelled to
accept any office, however burdensome, and without remuneration, they preferred incurring the penalty, rather than violate
their conscience. Extraordinary as it may seem, these acts
were not repealed until about twenty years ago. And although
Mr. Fox has described the reign of Charles the Second as
fi the reign of wise laws and a bad administration of them,"
he should have excepted these laws at least; and he would
assuredly have been one of the most active men in the kingdom
in effecting their repeal. In the debate on their repeal, the
principal argument which was urged against the passage of
the bill, was that they had become a dead letter, and could do
no harm to any one. For, one hundred and twenty years ago,
Parliament passed an act of indemnity to relieve those who had
incurred the penalties; and this act of beneficient legislation
was followed up, to the date of the repeal, by an annual indemnity bill. The Catholics did not accept this concession,
except in military appointments, believing that it would have
the appearance of occasional conformity. So far as regarded




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.           79
Protestant Dissenters there was some reason in the argument
against the repeal; that these acts were harmless, because
they had fallen into desuetude. But as long as they remained
on the statute book they might in those evil times, which are
favorable to the exercise of tyranny, be dragged from their
hiding places and revive the atrocious cruelties of the house
of Stuart. This system of indemnity is said to have originated
in a desire to conciliate the people of Scotland; but I imagine
the cause lay much deeper, and is to be found in the growing
intelligence, the large and liberal views respecting toleration,
which began to show themselves in the commencement of the
last century. The case of Scotland, the great bulk of whose
people were Dissenters, only afforded the occasion for developing these views: for after the voluntary union with England,
it would have been contrary to the plainest rules of justice and
policy to have cut off a whole people from the privileges which
belonged to citizens of a common government. The English
were deeply interested in cultivating the affections of the
people of Scotland; for this contributed to cement the union
more closely. And it is not the first instance in which selfinterest, well understood, has resulted in promoting the interest of all parties. Another instance in which the British
Parliament has interposed by a bill of indemnity, to relieve
the people from the consequences of unwise laws, has been in
the case of insolvent debtors. It was, in part, for advocating
the humane bill introduced into Parliament, more than eighty
years ago, the object of which was to abolish the barbarous
practice of imprisoning the debtor, and leaving him to die in
goal, unless some one gratuitously administered to his support,
that the illustrious Burke was compelled to withdraw himself
as a candidate for Parliament. And it is only recently that
this odious practice has been put an end to, by an express law
on the subject. But, not a great many years after the death
of Mr. Burke, Parliament passed an indemnity bill, by which a
general goal delivery was effected. This was in force only for
one year; but it was constantly renewed, and an annual indemnity bill came to be a matter of course, as in the case of
the test and corporation acts, before mentioned. If this did
not entirely remove the stain from the national character, it,




80       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
at any rate, made confession of it, and offered some atonement
to the people.
Several things are calculated to arrest our attention, and
fasten it upon the strong features in this species of legislation.
First, that although the Constitution of England is built up of
laws passed by Parliament, and, therefore, capable of being
suspended or repealed by Parliament, yet the indemnity bills
passed did not touch those laws, but only interfered with ordinary acts of legislation. The test and corporation acts were
obviously of this character, and the practice of arbitrary imprisonment by creditors had grown up from time immemorial
as a part of the common law, in no respect relating to the
fundamental laws of the kingdom, and, therefore, stood upon
no higher ground than ordinary acts of legislation. Even the
act passed in the reign of George the Third, indemnifying
ministers for not bringing persons imprisoned to trial, did not
meddle with the fundamental ordinances. Second, all these
acts of indemnity, so bountifully lavished, were, with the exception of the last, designed to relieve the people, and to lighten
the load with which government had before pressed upon them.
Third, public opinion alone has had power sufficient to protect
from invasion, all those laws which compose what is termed the
British Constitution. They were not intended to concentrate
power in the hands of ministers, to render them irresponsible,
and thus enable them to smite the people with impunity. Thus
the law of indemnity of the 6th of August stands alone in the
annals of constitutional government, without one redeeming
trait to recommend itself to our approbation. It has attempted to do what cannot be done, to annul by legislation the fundamental provisions of the Constitution, and has thus left a
blot upon our character which a century cannot wipe out. But
a day of reckoning will assuredly come: for neither the war
song, nor the giddy drum beat, nor the suffocating delirium of
party zeal, can forever stifle the longings of the people after
their former liberties.
I have had occasion frequently to notice the extremely revolutionary character of the American mind at the present time:
the wild and incoherent musings, the dark and desperate
schemes; and, withal, the distempered energy, which by fits
and starts, is breathed into them. The most obvious maxims




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.             81
of common life, the most settled principles of constitutional
law, even the traditions of our ancestors, are cast aside and
derided, as if we were ashamed to meet, face to face, either
the living or the dead. This is a mournful spectacle to contemplate, although the destroyer may not yet have come near
us. It is also full of instruction, as all unusual events are;
and I intended, at one time, to direct my attention exclusively
to unraveling, if possible, the hidden causes which have produced results so strange and wh'ich have confounded all the
principles which uphold both our civil and political institutions. But in a shipwreck, it is no time throw the soundinglead, or to take measure of the rocks on which we are stranded.' It might gratify our curiosity, and avert a similar calam
ity in future. And an investigation of the causes which have
given so great a shock to society, could not fail to be of advantage to all succeeding generations. But the evil is upon
us; and the only consideration is, what we can do, and should
d(o, in order to extricate ourselves.
At the very time when our citizens were suffering under oppression, when the writ of habeas corpus was suspended by
an act of undisguised tyranny, when persons guilty of no legal
offense, were seized without warrant, and immured in the Bastile,* when the frightful doctrine of constructive treason was
daringly proclaimed, when the printing establishments were
beaten to the ground, and all freedom of thought sought to be
stifled; when, in short, all sorts of iniquities were committed,
or countenanced, by the iron hand of power; it is announced,
that in consequence of an equally lawless act, committed
against a neutral vessel, we are on the eve of a rupture with
one of the most powerful nations of Europe. The ocean is
the common highway of all nations-no one nation having a
superior right over any other to navigate it: and it is upon
this principle, that the right of exclusive jurisdiction over its
own vessels,' whether armed or unarmed, and over the persons
on board of them is established. For if this were not the
On my passage a few weeks ago from Perth Amboy to New York, I
witnessed the landing of several prisoners, unlawfully seized, at Ft. Ham-.
ilton They were attended by a file of soldiers, who conducted themselves firmly, but sorrowfully. Such a spectacle is enough to make every
fiber of our frame quiver. And I hope I may never again witness it..
6




823      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
case, the ocean would cease to be the common highway of all
nations, and one nation would be at liberty to exercise upon it
a right superior to, and inconsistent with, the rights of other
nations. It is, in other words, for the purpose of protecting
each nation in the enjoyment of an equal right, on an element
where all are equal, that complete jurisdiction over its own
vessels exists. These are established principles of public law,
which, although some may be hardy enough to deny, no one
is able to refute. No government has been so constant and
persevering in its efforts to maintain this principle, than the
American government.  It was once, in the heat [of party
spirit, (in 1798), sought to be impugned; but the pretension
was almost instantly abandoned. The American government
has admitted the rightcof visitation in the case of contraband,
and (where there is no special treaty) in the case of enemy's
goods on board a neutral vessel.; but has protested, vehement-'ly, against its exercise in other cases. It has insisted that the
exception to the rule stands upon the same foundation as the,rule itself; that the exception to a, general rule, by virtue of it
dbeing an exception, contributes to fortify the rule, and to ren1der it unquestionable, at all times, and under all circum-stances. That we should have chosen this period for the assertion of a right absolutely indefensible, against which we'have invariably exclaimed, and even waged war in defense of
our opinion.; a period when we are confronted with difficulties,,to overcome which would baffle the genius of Napoleon, would
be considered as one of the most extraordinary events in our
history,  if the extraordinary had not ceased to disturb our
jaded and listless feelings.
The Law of Nations is a code of laws established for the
government of all civilized States. It has been of slow forma-,tion, waiting upon the gradual amelioration of society in different parts of the world, and, therefore, not matured until
the seventeenth century. The great revolution in the precedring century first waked up the dormant mind of Europe, and
in the first instance, directed it to the improvement of the in-,ternal condition of each people. But this contributed to make
all nations move alike, and to convert them into a general,association or society. And thus, for the first time, the law of
nations assumed the character of a Constitution for the great




REFLECTIONS ON TIlE PRESENT' CRISIS.         83
family of nations, in the same way that the fundamental laws
of each government became a constitution for its own people.
The remarkable thing about it is, that it was not framed by an
international tribunal or Congress of Nations, but was the offspring of a common or public opinion, which was now becoming an important spring in the machinery of all governments,
and could not fail to extend its influence over the great commonwealth of nations. That it is the offspring of public opinion, and opinion of slow growth, does not lessen, but increases
its authority. If opinion alone were sufficient among each
people, to establish and uphold a system of constitutional law
for each, it would stamp the system with an authority which,
although it would be less precise, would have a more commanding influence, than if it were reduced to writing. The
law of nations, from the necessity of the case, stands upon
this foundation, and is one of the most memorable proofs of
the general amelioration of the manners, the growth of large
and liberal views; and, above all, of the presence of that
sense of justice without which the intercourse of different
people would be a standing nuisance, instead of a source of
reciprocal benefits, and of boundless prosperity. The nations
have sometimes been accused of selfish motives, in rearing up
this complicated code of laws, as if the structure of our nature
would admit of any other motives to human conduct. All
our actions, from the meanest up to the most noble and virtuous, are impelled by this spring; and the highest form of
selfishness would be that in which none but virtuous motives
animated us; because they contribute most to our satisfaction
and enjoyment. But there is less room for the play of selfishness, in the vulgar acceptation of the term, in the formation
of an international code, than in the formation of any other
body of laws. The larger the field over which our motives
travel, the greater the number of wills which it is necessary to
consult, the higher is the probability, that our actions will be
governed by views which are common to all, and less personal
to ourselves. And thus the law of nations, which takes in,
not one people, but the people of all civilized countries, is less
liable to the charge of selfishness in its gross meaning, than
any other body of laws.
To assert a right to search neutral vessels, and to make cap



84       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
tives of their passengers, would be to introduce a new rule
into the law of nations, inconsistent with its spirit, and subversive of the principles on which it rests. Nor can any advantage be derived from the fact, that those who were seized
on lioard the Trent stood in the character of rebels to the
government which commanded the seizure. The argument
would stand upon a less, instead of a more firm foundation.
The search for persons who are in rebellion against the government which authorizes their seizure, is even more indefensible than it would be for enemy passengers. But the last has
never been admitted as a right, and would be stigmatized as
a flagrant usurpation of power. The one is a private, the
other is a national affair: the one is a question of municipal
law, the other would be a question of international law. And
hence the delivery up of persons who have committed crimes,
and fled to another country, is obliged to be provided for by
special treaty between those governments which desire to exercise such a right. It is now well settled, though it was at
one time debatable ground, that the law of nations does not
recognize the right. And we have many years ago concluded
treaties with Great Britain, and other foreign powers, for the
purpose of creating a right which otherwise would not exist.
But even in this case, no one has ever heard that the government, from which the criminals escaped, had a right to enter
the territory of the nation to which they had fled, and violently seize them. The right can only be asserted by a previous demand of one government on the other. The silence
of the law of nations as to the existence of even a right to
demand, and the existence of a special treaty on the subject,
render it necessary to conform to the provisions of the treaty;
otherwise the treaty is broken and we are left without any
remedy whatever. Nor does it make any difference, that the
seizure was made on board a neutral ship, on the high seas,
since, as I before remarked, the vessels of neutrals, sailing
upon the ocean, and whether armed or unarmed, are, in contemplation of law, an extension of the territory of the nation
to which they belong: and are, therefore, except in well-defined cases, subjected to the exclusive jurisdiction of that nation. It is obvious, that one government has no right to punish murder, or any other crime, committed on board a vessel




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.           85
of another nation, on the high seas. The vessel carries along
with it the laws of the country to which it belongs.; and thisyb
virtue of the principle that no one nation has a superior right
to navigate it, and can therefore in no way interfere with those
on board the vessels of another nation. To do so would be to
exercise a superior right on an element, where all being equal,
necessarily excludes the interference of foreign jurisdiction.
Whether, then, the Commissioners seized on board the Treat
were rebels or not, is a question for the Federal Government to
decide. It is purely a question of municipal law, and cannot
be determined by other nations. To assert, therefore, that the
seizure was lawful would be an attempt to transport the mnnicipal laws of one government beyond its own jurisdictio(l,
and into the jurisdiction of another government. It would,
therefore, be an interpolation into the law of nations of a
principle unheard of, and as dangerous to the independence
of the country asserting it, as to that of the country resistingit. When the question is one which affects all nations, and
does not grow out of the accidental relations of the citizens
of one country to the government of that country, it is withdrawn from the municipal laws of that country, and oecomes
a question of public law. It is a question in other words, fir
the great comlmonwealth of nations, and not for one member
to decide. If they were of opinion, that the commissioners
were not rebels, it would be matter of opinion only, the law
of nations which'affords the governing rule, being incompetent
to decide- or if they pronounced no opinion at all, but perinitted the question, as a mere question, to remain in abeyance,
the determination of the government, which made the seizure,
cannot make the rule for them; nor if all other governments
coincided in opinion with the Federal government, would the
case be varied: for there stands the treaty with Great Britain,
which requires, as a preliminary step that their delivery should
be demanded of her, and therefore excludes all right to a for-cible seizure of them. There stands the treaty which, while
it makes provision for the delivery up of persons, who have
committed felony, has industriously omitted the case of persons
who htave committed treason. The reason why this class of persons has not been included, is that the offense has frequently
had a very ambiguous import among the European govern



86       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
ments: what has been treason one year has been forgotten
the next, and regarded as a just assertion of right; that our
own country, Holland and Great Britain, have always afforded
an asylum to.such persons; that it would not only be an act
of inhumanity to refuse them a refuge, but would condemn
the whole line of policy we have hitherto pursued. This sentiment has now acquired such strength and is become so
deeply graven even on the European mind, that in Franceeven despotic France —-the punishment of death for political
crimes was abolished thirty or forty years ago.
I have now reviewed, as briefly as possible, the general
principles of the law of nations, which have reference to this
subject. But these principles have been of frequent application, and have been expounded, and administered, with remarkable ability, by one of the most eminent judges who has
sat in a Court of Admiralty. Principles govern cases; but
cases test the validity of principles, and give them an application in practice without which they would be unmeaning
and inoperative. The cases which have been presented for
adjudication are of two classes: carrying dispatches from the
colonies of an enemy to the mother country of those colonies,
and secondly, the carrying dispatches on board a neutral vessel from the country of an enemy to or from the Consul, or
Ambassador of an enemy resident in a neutral country. The
cases of the Atalanta (6 Robinson, 446), the Constantia (6
1Robinson, 461, note), the Susan (same note) and the Hope
(same note), belong to the first class. They were all cases of
dispatches on board of a neutral ship from the colonies of an
enemy addressed to the authorities in the mother country, or
vice versa, and the vessels were all condemned, on the ground
that carrying dispatches of that character was highly injurious to the other belligerent. The case of the Caroline (6 Robinson, 461) was that of an American ship on a voyage from
New York to Bordeaux, carrying dispatches from the French
Minister and a French Consul in America to France. Sir
Winm. Scott (Lord Stowell) says " the former cases were of
neutral ships carrying the enemy's dispatches from his colonies to the mother country, which is unlawful. But the neutral
country has a right to preserve its relations with the enemy,
and you are not at libterty to conclude that any communication




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.            87
between them can partake, in any degree, of the nature of
hostility against you."  "The practice of nations has allowed
the neutral States the privilege of receiving ministers from
the belligerent States, and the use and convenience of an immediate negotiation with them."  The case of the Madison
(Edwards' lRep. 224) was that of an American vessel carrying
dispatches from an enemy's country to a consul of the enemy
residing in a neutral country. And the seizure was adjudged
unlawful. "If," says Sir Winm. Scott, "such communication
were interdicted, the functions of official persons would cease
altogether."  It will be observed that these decisions were
made by a tribunal sitting in the country of one belligerent,
and yet according such privileges to the other belligerent
through a neutral channel. The couert was placed in precisely
the samne position as would be a Court of Admiralty in the United
States sitting in judgment on the case of the Trent. In the case
of the Caroline, Sir Win. Scott remarks, "you may stop the
ambassador of your enemy." But this is very properly limited by what follows:   "Could it be said that he would, on
that principle, be subject to any of the rights of war in neutral territory; certainly not."' The ambassador may be seized
by a belligerent if he attempts to pass through the country of
that belligerent, in order to reach a neutral country. He had
before declared, that dispatches from  the ambassador of' a
belligerent were protected, because they were found on neutral
territory, that is, on board of a neutral ship.
The principles thus declared by a judge who turned - (leaf
ear to the claims of his own country, when the rights of nenltral nations were at stake, have been expounded with equal
clearness by a great American jurist. Chancellor Kent, in
his commentaries (vol 1, page 151), says, "'a distinction has
been made between carrying dispatches of the enemy between
different parts of his dominions, and carrying dispatches of
an ambassador from a neutral country to his own sovereign.
The effect of the former is presumed to be hostile, but the
neutral country has a right to preserve its relations with an
enemy. Ambassadors resident in a neutral country are favorite objects of the protection of the law of nations; and the
pIresumption is, that the neutral State preserves its integrity,
and is not concerned in any hostile design."




88       n~REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
In all the cases to which I have referred, the vessels which
were supposed to have violated the laws of neutrality, were
carried into a port of the power which commanded the seizure, in order that the claim might be determined by a judicial
tribunal. This is the invariable practice in such cases; and
Courts of Admiralty are established in every country for th e
purpose of adjudicating such claims. That this course was
not pursued in this instance, can only be accounted for from
the fact that they who commanded the seizure, were aware
that it was unlawful, and therefore sought to smooth the matter over, by permitting the vessel to proceed on her voyage.
In this way it was supposed that atonement would be made
to the neutral country. But it is a course unprecedented, contrary to the practice of all nations, and places in bolder relief
the illegal character of the transaction. Great advantage is
derived from having a tribunal to sit upon the controversy,
although it is established in the country which asserts the
claim. Such a tribunal must necessarily have more knowledge of the principles which govern the case, than a naval
commander or the administrative officer who commanded the
act to be done: and possessing more knowledge it must also
be more impartial.  But there is an additional, and far
weightier reason why the proceeding was unlawful.  The
Constitution of the United States has created Admiralty
Courts, and vested exclusive jurisdiction in them. Thus the
act done was an usurpation of judicial power, and an infringemnent of the Constitution, as well as a violation of the law of nations.
I now dismiss the subject, with the single remark, that even
if the question were doubtful, prudence, a regard to that wise
and sagacious policy, whicn looks before and after, should have
dissuaded us from doing an act which was not clearly justifyable before the world, and which might, at this critical period,
compromit our relations with a neutral country.
P. S.-Since this article was placed in the hands of the
editor, the seizure of the Commissioners has been disavowed.
But there was no disavowal previous to the demand of the
British government. On the contrary, there was and is every
reason to believe that it was authorized; otherwise the Sec



REFLECTIO(NS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.         89
retary of the Navy would hardly have written a letter to the
naval commander ratifying it, and congratulating him for the
act. The Secretary of the Navy is appointed by the President, and under his control. Thus, on whatever side we turn
we are lowered in our own eyes, and in those of foreign nations. " Oh my country, I pity you," were the dying words
of a great English statesman.
No one has ever supposed that any society, even under the'most favorable circumstances, should exhibit a perpetual calm:
no one has supposed that it should be entirely exempt from
troubles within, and troubles without. And even if we are
not always able to account for their happening, we are authorized to consider them as natural, because they are unavoidable. VWe are compelled to look upon them as forming a part
of the regular course of,events; differing in no respect from
other events, except that we are less familiar with them.
These occasional departures from what is considered the regular march of public events, are not entirely unknown, even in
this singularly favored country. But nothing can be conceived more novel, more startling, more contrary to ail the
usages and habits of the American people, than the scene
which public affairs now present. The mind which is at all
given to reflection, is disposed to turn aside from the relation
of battles and sieges in order to fasten its attention upon those
general causes which may be supposed to lie at the bottom of
this great distemper. Such speculations may improve our
~knowledge, even if they do not immediately rectify our manIlers. They may fall like drops of water upon adamant; but
even drops of water are capable of wearing out adamant.
And in that period of calm, which always succeeds one of
violence, when we gather up our faculties, and cease any
longer to dream and conjecture, they may rouse reflection,
quicken the sense of right, and prevent what, if often repeated,
would overthrow both our social and political institutions.
When a great revolution, a revolution which shakes society,
occurs, it is very natural to search for its cause, in some event,
which immediately precedes, or is contemporaneous with it.
And with regard to the great revolution which is now before
us, we may say, that it has been brought about by a settled
determination among a great party at the North to rid itself




90       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
of the ascendency of the South, so long maintained by a combination of the Democratic party at the North with the Democratic party at the South: Or we may say, that it has been
occasioned by the extreme uneasiness of the men of the South
at perceiving the sceptre of power gradually slipping from
their hands, and on the eve of being permanently transferred
to the North: or, with still more reason we may assert, that
it has been occasioned by the joint operation of both these
causes. It may well be supposed, that each section perceived
that the shortest, and most direct way to the accomplishment
of its end, the one to acquire undisputed power, the other to
retain a hold upon it, was to produce an open rupture between
the two; and that they gradually slid into the course of behavior which was calculated to bring about that catastrophe.
And this was the precise eriod when the differences between the
two might, and should, have been adjusted. As soon as the intentions of the two sections were fully developed, one or the
other should have withdrawn from the Union; and the section which remained in should have hailed it as a clear indication Of a great change in the relations of the two, as-an event
in the regular march of human affairs. But this significant
warning was without effect; and the whole country has been
convulsed, beyond example, for the want of a due share of
foresight and prudence. An open rupture, it was conceived,
would not merely occasion hostilities between the two regions;
but it would bring the two great parties at the North into
direct antagonism with each other, and enable the Republican
party at the North to beat down, once for all, the influence of
its great rival, the Democratic party, in the same region. We
may thus account for the extravagant acts, the audacious
usurpations of power, and the flagrant violations of constitutional liberty, which were committed. An open rupture with
the South would afford a convenient and plausible ground for
all these excesses. War, whether called by that name, or by
the name of rebellion, would be the inevitable consequence, if
the door was shut upon all compromise, and the right of withdrawing from the Union was denied. And to do either would
defeat the great purpose which was in view; that of crushing
the Democratic party at the North. But the war which would
take place would be the most unnatural which has ever occur



REFLECTIONS ON TiHE PRESENT CRISIS.         92
red in a country of highly advanced civilization: and it would,
on that very account, stimulate the passions to an inordinate degree: it would on that very account bring the two
great parties at the North into more direct antagonism with
one another. The dominant party would then be able to iepresent its rival as the enemy of its own country, whenever it
gave vent to a burst of generous feeling, or endeavored, by
persuasion and argument, to give a different direction to the
public councils. It would resort to an expedient commonly
practised on such occasion. It would affix odious names not
only to the men of the South, but to the Democratic party of
the North. It would call both rebels, traitors, and secessionists; and thus endeavor to make compensation for its enormities, by blackening the character of its own citizens. This is
an engine of power which is always at hand, because it demands no mental exertion, but only the indulgence of the passions. In 1792, the Marquis of Landsdowne remarked in the
Hlouse of Peers, that s" the present instance reminded him of
the proceedings in England, during the American war; the
most abusive and degrading terms, rebels, traitors, &c., were
then applied to the American people."  He added, "perhaps
the samne consequtences may follow."  This hateful example which
once kindled the blood in the veins of every American, is now
followed, even to exaggeration, by Americans themselves. The
party in power enlisting the majority, now converted into a
vast mob, in schemes no matter how fatal to the North, stigmatize the minority by cant and degrading terms, violate all
the forms of law, and the most sacred provisions of the Constitution, in order to humiliate, and subdue them. By so acting they only endeavor to accomplish what, from the beginning, was perhaps the chief end in view, the annihilation of
an influence which was forever amidst them, and forever creating obstacles to the prosecution of their schemes. These are
considerations of great importance, in understanding our history; for although they do not lay open the causes of the great
social movement they at least explain the course of the political movement, which is but a development of the social.
1st. At a very early period the people of New England presented a remarkable example of those staid, sober, and religious
habits, which lie at the bottom of all national, as well as indi



92       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
vidual improvement. These habits gradually spread more or
less over the whole country, and have had a decisive influence
in moulding the character of the whole population. By emigrating in great numbers to other parts of the Union, they
carried them directly to those parts; and through the mere
force of example, caused them to penetrate among people whose
manners and education were not so strict. Whoever will take
the trouble to examine the early laws of South Carolina,* will
perceive traces of that same puritanical spirit which once existed in New England and which has both convulsed, and
reformed the world. But whoever has studied attentively the
progress of society in New England, during the last forty years,
will perceive that a very great change has taken place in the
manners. Until recently this change was very gradual, and
was only the result of those large and expansive views, which
have ever been attendant upon the growth of knowledge, and
which enlarge the scope of our feelings, in the same proportion
as that of our understandings, and this effect has Been increased by the more intimate acquaintance with human nature,
which a wide communication with other peoples has so much
encouraged. But during the last thirty years the change in
the manners has been much more perceptible. Skepticism,
which is so fine a discipline to the mind, when it teaches us
modesty and a distrust in our own strength; and so pernicious
when it makes us so bold as to defy all knowledge, has increased to an alarming extent. It has not only affected the
character of laymen, but has reached even the clergy; and
has produced a licentiousness of opinion, though not yet of
manners, closely resembling that of the French clergy previous
to the French revolution. ]De Tocqueville and Beamont, commissioners sent by the government of France, after the accession of Louis Philippe, in order to examine the penitentiary
system of the United States, were struck with the increase of
crime which had taken place in the State of Connecticut. By
comparing the criminal records of that State with those of New
Jersey and Maryland, they discovered that not only had the
number of crimes increased in the former, but that they had
increased in a greater proportion than in either of the two last
* Some of the laws even resembled the Blue Laws of Connecticut.




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          93
States. And what was still more unexpected, the greatest increase was of crimes against the person. They communicated
the result of their inquiry to several of the most intelligent
men in that State, who declared that the information surprised
them, as much as it did the commissioners; but that there
was no way of contradicting it, as it was obtained from the
most authentic and undeniable source. Nothing is more difficult and even irksome than to fasten our attention upon the
structure of the very society we live in, and the changes which
are gradually wrought in it. We are so familiarized with them
in their outward form, and they are mingled with such an
infinitude of detail, that they seem to be beneath our notice,
and we even acquire a distaste for a study which is sure a few
generations after to occupy the minds of the greatest thinkers.
No doubt if thosepersons to whom the French commissioners
communicated the result of their investigation, had studied
attentively the phenomena which their own society presented,
they would have found a clue to the great change which had
taken place in it. No doubt this change is, in great part,
attributable to the licentiousness of opinion, which has grown
up during this century: for although persons who commit
crime do not occupy themselves very much with the reigning
opinions of the day, they do so much more than is imagined;
at any rate, those opinions exert a silent, but very appreciable
influence over their conduct. As to the great bulk of society,
those who never commit any positive offense, their behavior is
powerfully influenced by the opinions of the day. If these are
loose the effect shows itself in a single generation in the general tenor of their conduct. But, as I remarked, this extreme
freedom of opinion has even reached the clergy; and will, in
the end, be as fatal to their authority and influence as it is
already to the manners of the people. Wherever the clergy
thrust themselves into the arena of politics, and endeavor, by
their harangues, to inflame the passions of their audiences,
instead of moderating and assuaging them, it is an incontestible
proof that religious doctrine has lost its hold upon them; that
it has dwindled into insignificance, and that the decay of the
religious sentiment among laymen is close at hand. One of
the most curious, and, notwithstanding the gravity of the subject, one of the most comical symptoms I have observed of this




94       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
change, is the ambition displayed by some clergymen of ignoring the name, or appropriate meaning of the word church, and
giving to the building Wvhich should be appropriated to the
performance of their high duties, some name which may testify
to all the world, the light opinion which they entertain of
religion. Thus in one of our populous cities, the place of worship of a distinguished preacher is known by no other name
than that of the Temple, and in another large city the building
has been dedicated as the church of Humanity. These are not
isolated circumstances indicative of personal eccentricities.
They are significant signs of the decay of religious belief, and
of the licentiousness of opinion which has recently grown up.
They tell us distinctly as do the schisms which have taken
place among various sects, on the subject of slavery. They
remind us of that period, during the French revolution, when
the "Goddess of Reason" was enthroned, and the God of
Heaven was trampled under foot. But the religious element
still lingers in sufficient strength among the population to impart energy to the will, and zeal to the feelings; and the consequence is the formation of a character almost as remarkable
for its oddity as the people of Belgium, in whom the liveliness
of the Frenp.h character is strangely mingled, with the sobriety
and serious demeanor of the Dutch. A shrewd New Englander
once remarked to me that one of the peculiarities of his countrymen consisted in the power of accommodating themselves
to any society in which they might be thrown; putting on, at
times, the light and easy manner which is calculated to gain
the confidence of mankind; and at others, wearing the staid
and sober demeanor, which enables them to pursue steadily
and energetically every avenue which might conduct to wealth.
2d. In a popular revolution nothing is more important to
those who conduct it than to fasten upon some dogma,. or
abstract principle, which may give weight and dignity to the
general movement. For although abstract principles are very
seldom seized in their full import, by the bulk of mankind,
they are, on that very account, more imposing. Their obscurity magnifies their importance, while at the same time they
always suggest something which is calculated to fan the passions, and in this way, finally, to master the understanding.
Thus, at the present time, we find the cry of anti-slavery has




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.           95
become the shibboleth of the dominant party; notwithstanding
a state of servitude may be infinitely better adapted to the
actual condition of the Ethiopian race than one of freedom;
that a sudden change from one to the other would be more
fatal to their well-being than to that of the masters; and that
an interference with the domestic institutions of other communities, whether in war or peace, is a total departure from those
maxims which should govern a civilized people. It calls to
mind that barbarous period when the Mahommedan nations
carried fire and sword into Christian -countries, in order to enforce obedience to their peculiar creed.
It is well known that an Association, with extensive ramifications, was formed at the East, during the past summer,
whose design is to proclaim the emancipation ot the slaves,
even though it should be necessary to wade through a sea of
blood in order to execute it; that information of this was communicated to the Cabinet in August; that the Cabinet only
doubted the policy of such a step; and that, although it was
supposed that the enterprise was stifled, yet that is in full
vigor; that large contributions have been made in furtherance
of the scheme, that the Association has now received a complete organization, and that the determination is, that it shall
be executed, if necessary, in spite of the Government. When
we hear of such machinations, we fancy that we see Guy
Fawkes, the man of blood, ready to apply the match to the
train he had laid, and glaring with the eyes of the basilisk on
the discovery of his plot. My opinion is that a proclamation
declaring the slaves free would be brutum fulmen; that it
would have no more effect than the declaring all marriages
at the South void, or declaring all minors freed from the restraint of their parents. But abstractions throw such a haze
round the mind, that even when we are groping, we fancy that
we see with a supernatural light. The Federal Government
exercises a very feeble influence upon the people of the States,
compared with that which is exercised by the State governments. The last are complete governments, possessing all the
attributes of sovereignty, a distinct Executive, Legislative and
Judicial system, which is in constant activity, exerting a more
direct and immediate influence upon the interests and affections of men, and consequently, upon that public opinion which




96       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
gives weight and authority to government. It was for this
reason that some of the leading minds in the Federal Convention entertained serious doabts whether the centrifugal
force residing in the system would not counterbalance the
centripetal, and thus destroy the equilibrium of the whole.
An experience of more than seventy years did not confirm
these fears, for never was government administered with more
wisdom, promptitude and precision, than during that period,
unless the present revolution is an exception. But this revolution, although it may afford proof to some minds that thll
doubt I have referred to was well founded, yet by others it
may be viewed as proving directly the contrary. However
this may be settled, as it will be calmly half a century hence,
it cannot be doubted, that in every thing which relates to the
domestic police of the States, the State governments exercise
a more decisive influence upon all the people within their borders, than does the Federal Government. It may then be
doubted if the last steps, entirely beyond the sphere of its
authority, in order violently to interfere with the institutions
of the States, whether the enterprise can be attended with
success: for, although slaves Inay well be supposed to be ignorant of the line of demarkation between the two governments,
yet they are not at all insensible of the weight and authority
of the government which immediately surrounds and presses
upon them. With none other have they anything to do; and,
although occasional outbreaks may take place, I imagine they
will be quelled, if necessary, by the strong military force
which is organized throughout that region.
3d. The wide dissemination of education among the people
of the North, is a circumstance which escapes the attention of
no one: and no praise too high can be bestowed upon it. But
education which teaches merely the elements of knowledge,
and is confined to the early period of life, may be productive
of great temporary inconvenience. This is a necessity which
is unavoidable, and, therefore, must be submitted to, for the
great body of the people are too much occupied with those
pursuits which minister to their daily wants to think of any
other. So far as the interests of society are concerned, the
only remedy in our power consists in the thorough education
of those whose circumstances permit it: the number of these




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.             97
will always be greater in a republic than in any other form of
government. And this is a decisive argument in favor of
those free institutions which we have established. But by
thorough education, I do not mean scholastic pursuits, which
only tend to cripple, and enfeeble the understanding; but the
giving fall play, and constant exercise, to the original and in
dependent faculties of the mind. If the great body of mankind have not sufficient leisure and opportunity for this, it
behooves those who have, and into whose hands so large a
sh;are of the civil and political authority of the State must
fall, the members of the learned professions, and those who
enter into public life, to be impressed, not only with the importance of sustaining a reputation, but with a deep responsibility to that people, who not being able to attend to everythillg, have selected them as the depository of their ifterests;
their counselors and guides in everything which concerns their
spiritual, physical and political well-being. Educatiun, in its
true sense, should, with that class of men, run through the
whole period of life; for the longest life is hardly sufficient to
put us in possession of that knowledge which is useful and
valulable. But the invariable effect of the general diffusion
of education, in its common acceptation, is to maike superficial
men, pedantic men,I and ostentatious men, among that very
fe.w upon whem society can alone rely. The last thirty years
aifford a remarkable example of this. Politics has been the
engrossing interest during that period; and all the ambitious
minds look for distinction there. But politics has two sides,.
a vulgar side, which deals only with empirical ficts; and a
profound side, which joining to observation a prolific and organiizing faculty, shapes the whole into system. It follows,
that political questions may be approached by all orders of'
mind, from the highest to the lowest; by the thorouoghly disciplined, as well as by the half-disciplined, or the undisciplined mind. Every one feels sufficient coufidence in himself'
to discuss that topic, and even to set up as teachers of manhind in a department of knowledge the most difficult, and
complex of any other. Another consequence is, that nearly
all the ambitious minds of the country seek not only for promotion, but for what they esteem  as intellectual distinction,,
in " the applause of the multitude," that is, among that class,
7




98       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
who bestow favor, and yet, from the necessity of the case, are
withdrawn from all high intellectual pursuits. The standard
of public opinion is thus, for the time being, overthrown; it
is lowered, instead of being elevated. Evey one must have
observed the strong passion for the cultivation of declamatory
talents, which has taken possession of the American mind,
during the last thirty years. It has seized upon all ranks,
and all ages, upon the young, the middle-aged, and the old.
All the higher faculties of the mind have been neglected for
the sake of this glittering bauble; the faculties of thinking
and reasoning, and the power of disposing and co-ordinating
facts, so as to produce valuable results. "Words, which wise
men only consider as counters," are thus universally coined
into money. Thus our public men, by attempting to raise the
superstructure of knowledge, without any adequate foundation to rest upon, now feel themselves without that preparedmess which is indispensable in order to grapple with great:affairs in all difficult emergencies. We have no statesmen,
but as to politicians, their name is legion. A strange preju-,dice has grown up, that men of large and comprehensive
views cannot be practical men; whereas, the reverse is the
-case. The profoundest minds are always endowed with most
practical ability. Empirical talent is commonly confounded,with practical ability; but no two qualities are more distinct.'The illustrious statesmen who have adorned our country, and,whose race seems to be extinct, were none of them empirics,
but they all possessed practical ability in the highest degree.
4th. The unparalleled increase of wealth which has taken
place in the United States during the last thirty or forty,years, sheds a good deal of light upon our history at this
-period. This addition to the material prosperity of the coun~try is also deserving of all praise; since it indicates the saga
-city, industry and enterprise, which have animated our people.:It is in other words the result of our free institutions, and of
that indomitable and persevering energy which accompanies,suc:h institutions. But it cannot be concealed that it communicates to the character, for the time being, amazing confi-.dence in its own resources, a morbid energy -in the exercise of.the will, and a sort of don't care feeling as to the consequences.
All this has led to the growth of the democratic principle in




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          99
its wildest luxuriance. There is nothing which strikes the
observation of foreigners who visit the city of New York so
much as the palace-like residences which adorn the upper part
of the city. They are told that they have chiefly been built
by persons who have sprung from the lower walks of life,
sometimes by one who made his fortune as a tallow chandler,
another as a tobacconist, another as a harness manufactuier;
and they have declared, with surprise, that nothing similar to
it is to be fouind in Europe. Even "Genoa the magnificent"
never displayed greater superfluity of wealth. It might be
supposed that the vast system of industrial pursuits, which
are spread over town and country, would have counteracted
the revolutionary spirit which is abroad; for such pursuits
are calculated to inculcate habits of prudence, sobriety and
carefulness. But the opposite effect may be produced under
certain circumstances. Wealth may be very widely diffused,
but the number of those who are independent will always be
small when compared with those who are not. And this produces a general feeling of uneasiness, and envy among the
last. This feeling is increased, instead of being diminished,
by the struggle now become universal for the acquisition of
property. As this effort is unsuccessful in the great majority
of instances, it produces a sullen, restless disposition, which
manifests itself in ill-feeling towards the more fortunate class.
Every one who has extended his observation beyond his
neighborhood, or State, must be aware of this fact. I venture
to say that everywhere, from Boston to Missouri, this spirit
has taken possession of great numbers. It has its advantages, for even envy adds to the vigor with which every one
follows the pursuits of life; but it may be so much in excess
as to constitute a positively morbid condition of society, instead of an occasional disturbance of its healthy state. The
change which has taken place, especially during the last
twenty or thirty years, is equally perceptible in the large
cities, and in the small towns; and has even reached country
districts, though not to the same extent. Every locality has
its mimic aristocracy; and those who suppose that they do
not constitute a part of it are engaged in constant efforts to
pull it down. This contest manifests itself in the larger cities,
not merely in a rivalry between the rich and the poor, but in




100      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRtIIS.
a feeling of envy on the part of the new men (novi homines)
against those, who have long been firmly and securely in possession of the public respect and confidence; and although
the new men may, in the aggregate, boast of as much wealth
as the old, their wealth only adds to the poignancy of the
feeling. they suppose that they should have as great consideration in society as the more favored class, although their
knowledge may be much less; while their great prosperity adds
to the influence and power which they wield. They thus fre
quently place themselves at the head of the popular movement,
become reckless as to the consequences, and are the chief victims of it. We may say that the career of wealth has been
too rapid: it has run ahead of the progress of knowledge.
And this has produced other consequences which are very injurious in revolutionary times; or which may be said to be one
of the causes of the revolution. The easy and tranquil life to
which so much prosperity is highly favorable, instead of contentment and happiness, produces ennui. Life becomes insipid
and wearisome. All the beautiful creations of that industry
which had set everything in motion, seem stale and insignificant; and the mind is forever panting after something untried,
and even startling, because it will have the effect of speedily
rousing the mind from its lethargy. It has been said of the
French noblesse, who were driven from France during the
French revolution, that they endured the hardships and privations, to which they were exposed in exile, not only with constancy and firmness, but often with complacency. The ennui
and weariness of life which tormented them, were broken up
by the glare of the torch, the confiscation of their property,
even the rags which covered them.
5th. It is not surprising, therefore, when an opportunity
offered to spring forward into an entirely new career, that it
should have been hailed with enthusiasm, and that a simultaneous rush should be made, by all orders of men to enter the
ranks of the army. Thus a military spirit, absolutely unparalleled in the history of civilized societies, has sprung up
in a day; towering above all other powers, absorbing all other
interests and changing for the time being all the usages and
habits of the American people. We are not surprised when
we hear of the wonderful military activity in France, when



REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          101
ever there is an opening for the display of it: for in that
country the means of living are so cramped in consequence of
its exhuberant population, and the minute division of the soil,
that great multitudes are glad to lay hold of an opportunity
which will afford them a certain, although it may be a scanty
subsistence. In France, the cultivable land is about one hundred and nine millions of acres; and the whole number of
proprietors twenty-two millions; less, on an average, than five
acres to each proprietor. And of five million five hundred
and forty-seven thousand proprietors, there are only six thousand and eighty-four whose income amounts to two thousand
dollars a year; while three millions and a half have an income
of not more than twenty dollars.* In Ohio, on the other hand,
there are twenty-five millions and a half acres of land, none
of which is absolutely uncultivable, and ten millions of which
are actually under cultivation. The class of proprietors have,
on an average, ninety acres.t In France, the vast majority
have only four or five acres; in Ohio, they have fifty. I verily
Believe that in Ohio, with a population not one-tenth that of
France, there are many more proprietors who have au income
of two thousand dollars, than there are in the last country. In
France much more than twenty millions, out of a population
of thirty-seven millions, can neither read nor write; twentytwo millions only earn frornom six to seven sous a day, more
than one-half of the proprietors have not always even coarse
bread to subsist on. In Ohio everything presents a more
ha"py and exhilirating prospect. There is not-only a very
equal division of the soil, but, what is of more importance,
the allottment to the vast majority of proprietors is amply sufficient to supply all the comforts of life. And yet these singular advantages have been undervalued; an irresistible current
seems to drive every one into an entirely new walk of life, incompatible with the maintenance of those industrious habits
which have hitherto constituted our strength. Instead of the
image of prosperity, which used to greet us everywhere, we
see all around us marks of ruin and decay: our commerce a
* Statistique de la France: Mounier & Rubichon.
t Report of the Commissioner of Statistics and Board of Agriculture,
1857-8.




102      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
wreck, our imports dwindled to one-third, our manufacturing
establishments crippled, and as a necessary consequence agricultural industry arrested. Everywhere the hand of power
seems to be at work to destroy; except among that horde of
contractors and speculators who monopolize all lucrative employment, and who, gloating over their enormous and ill-gotten spoils, rattle their money boxes before our eyes. But a
vast civil force like this, born in corruption, and thriving by
corruption, gives amazing strength to a corrupt administration. They are scattered everywhere, have adherents and
backers everywhere, prey upon the people like vultures, and
then intimidate and overawe them. They gain entrance even
into the Cabinet, are courted and upheld by those who have
long been acquainted with their misdeeds; and not until the
voice of public indignation is so loud and imperative, as to
coerce submission to it, is any step taken to drive them from
power.
And thus, through the operation of so many adverse and
malignant causes have penury and want for the first time been
introduced into the United States, a country which, above all
others, seemed to be the chosen abode of comfort and prosperity. It is not surprising, therefore, when so many circumstances have conspired either to produce a predilection for miltary pursuits, or to force men into them, that the ranks of the
army should be filled with almost incredible alacrity. The
Earl of Ellesmere, who visited the United States, a few years
ago, on his return to England declared in the House of Lords,
that "if he were asked what nation on the globe was the
most warlike, he would answer, that it was the United States."
He formed his opinion from the exceedingly martial appearance
of the uniform companies in the large cities, from the enthusiasm with which volunteers enlisted during the Mexican war,
and from the inroads into Canada and Cuba. He did not inquire
into the cause of this phenomenon but only stated the fact.
But it is obvious that the passions long pent up by a period of
unexampled tranquillity, have, like a mighty torrent confined
by a powerful dyke, suddenly burst forth, threatening to sweep
everything in their course. And what compensation have we
for this wonderful social revolution; what redeeming qualities
are to be found in a state of uproar and confusion which can




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          103
be set over against the manifold and undeniable advantages
of peace? War does sometimes bring out great qualities;
and by the innumerable afflictions which it brings to the doors
of private families frequently produces patience, resignation
and humility; all of which tend to foster the mild and gentler
qualities of our nature, and to correct the proud, disdainful
and bitter feelings which before existed. I verily believe that
the battle of Waterloo, which placed half the families of Great
Britain in mourning, contributed mightily to purify the moral
atmosphere in that country. But this is not a foreign war;
but a frightful civil war; and, therefore, calculated to perpetuate a rancorous feeling not only between the North and the
South, but between the two great parties at the North. It is a
monstrosity hard to reconcile with our highly advanced civilization, even after making allowance for all the causes which
lie at the foundation of it. In a material point of view it has
inflicted a more deadly blow upon ourselves than upon the seceding States. It is like a man scuttling the ship on board of
which both he and his enemy are, in order that, rather than
his enemy should live, both may go to the bottom together.
It has been calculated that the number of persons who can,
without detriment to the State, be spared from the pursuits of
peace; from agriculture, commerce and manufactures, in order
to fill the ranks of the army, does not amount to more than
the one-hundreth part of the whole population. This has recently imposed a strong check upon the prosecution of those
long wars which formerly desolated Europe. Industry is a
powerful antagonist of war; and it has acquired so great an
ascendancy in Europe since the peace of Paris in 1815, that all
the wars nlow are short ones. But in six months we have exceeded the proportion of one to a hundred, by one-fourth.
This, joined to the increasing dearness of the necessaries of
life, will enhance the price of wages, until at length the whole
field of industry is so contracted as to lessen the demand for
labor, and to drive into the army great multitudes who would
never have gone there. The consequence is enormous, oppressive taxation; at the very time when the resources from which
the taxes should be drawn are dried up. We are now only in
the first stage of the revolution; and yet what numbers have
already been consigned to poverty; what an appalling list of




104       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
bankruptcy, exceeding all which have taken place during the
preceding forty years; what unspeakable afflictions, of one
kind or other, the greater part of which will never be revealed,
have been endured. The party in power declares that it is the
Union party, when it is, barefacedly, the subjugation party;
that it is the loyal and conservative party, when it is the only
anarchical party which has ever reared its head in this country; that it is the patriotic party, when it has shivered, as with
a thunderbolt from  pandemonium, the noble fabric of our
prosperity.
There has been an egregious miscalculation as to the duration of this contest. From its commencement it was evident
to every one of tolerable foresight and judgment, that it might
last five, ten or fifteen years; and that then it would be term linated, not by subjection, but by treaty. The moment that this'
probability was perceived the contest should have been abandoned: and it may have been with infinite credit and advantage
to ourselves. A mere doubt as to the propriety and feasibility
of a given plan is often sufficient, in the common affairs of life,
to turn us aside from the prosecution of it. Much more should
this )be the case when we have to deal with interests of vastmagnitude; and when the responsibility for all we do is increased a thousand fold. A stolidity of understanding, an
obduracy of will, and a recklessness of feeling have been displayed, which I do not recollect to have met with in all history.
",I do not understand," said Mr. Burke, during the American
Revolution, "what is meant by the rebellion of a whole people,"
and so far from lending a support to that unnatural civil war,
he never ceased to oppose it with all the weapons his marvellous mind was m aster off, until his predictions were verified
by the establishment of American independence. He is a
spurious patriot who is always on the side of his country,
whether right or wrong: and he is a true patriot who offers
her a generous support when she is right; and whenever she
is in the x rong, endeavors by all the arts of persuasion and
argument to beckon her to the right path.
Among the various phenomena which the complicatod web
of society presents to our observation, I know of none which
is more curious and instructive, than the constant tendency
which is everywhere exhibited, on the part of the few, to ap



REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          105
propriate to themselves the power of the many. It is easy to
understand how this comes to pass in monarchical, or aristocratical government; for power and influence are there condensed by the forms of the Constitution, as well as by the
structure of society, in the hands of a few. In a republic, if
the name is not a sublime chimera, it seems that it should be
otherwise: for the constitution of society, which admi-ts of the
establishment of free institutions, presupposes the wide dissemination of knowledge, and a corresponding diffusion of
property and power; and these, we would be disposed to say,
must operate as a perpetual guard against the encroachments
of the few. But it must be remembered, that it is in consequence of the greater activity of the few, even in monarchical, or aristocratical government, that power and influence
come to be concentrated in their hands.  Take away this
activity, and their power and inuflence would cease: as is
proved by the fact that when a popular revolution occurs in
such countries, the long established influence of the few yields,
for the time being, to the superior activity of the many; and
in many instances it has yielded permanently; so as, in the
course of no very long time, to displace power from where it
was originally lodged, and to change materially the character
of both civil and political institutions. It is, in truth, in consequence, and not in spite, of the spirit of liberty that the
phenomenon I have noticed frequently takes place. But the
effects are very different, under different circumstances; sometimes leading to the most beneficial ends, while in others they
are attended with the most deplorable consequences. All the
reforms which have been effected in Great Britain, during the
last thirty-five years, have been brought about by a marked
alteration in the social condition of the population. The great
mass of the people who were before passive citizens, became,
on such occasions, active citizens; giving birth, at first, to a
class of agitators, few in number, but the most active of their
own order, who, speaking in their behalf, and upheld by their
influence, snatched from power those numerous concessions,
which have produced quiet, and tranquillity, and brought the
civil institutions into a more exact agreement with the spirit
of the government. In these instances, therefore, although
few, comparatively, were active, yet that few were impelled by




106      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
the will of a majority. A faction or junto, declaredly in opposition to the opinions of the majority, armed with the boldness
which distempered feeling imparts, and insinuating itself by
the most odious artifices, into popular favor, has no resemblance to those cases.
It is then the amount of activity which is put forth by a
party, or more properly by a faction, which determines whether
it shall acquire a domineering influence, for good, or for evil,
and subject to itself, the other members of the community.
Society may then be divided, for it actually is so divided, into
two classes; the active and the passive. Nor is this an arbitrary distinction, but one of great importance, in understanding the history of every country, and especially that of the
United States. The efficiency of a military force consists in
its being a compact, disciplined and active body: and the efficiency of a civil force, whether self-erected, or created by the
laws, depends upon the same causes. It would be difficult to
enumerate all those causes which contribute to this greater
activity of one part of the community over all others, or to
describe the various forms which it assumes at different
periods. The most prominent cause, without doubt, is temperament. The organization of some individuals naturally disposes them to more activity, of one kind or another; and when
it is united with a certain dexterity, and suppleness of temper, it converts a faculty, which might otherwise be very useful, into an instrument of great mischief. And the chief forms
which this propensity assumes, are the love of gain, the love
of popularity, the love of power and influence. I use these
terms to denote the disposition whenever it is in excess. We
must not confound the love of gain with those honest, industrious habits, which disposes the greater part of mankind to
constant exertion, in order to better their condition; nor the
desire of popularity with a just sense of the esteem of others;
and, with legitimate efforts, to win their respect; nor the love
of influence, with those generous aspirations after usefulness,
which constitutes the true destiny of man. But that original
difference of temperament, or organization, which leads to a
superabundant activity, shows itself in some men, sometimes
in a whole class, in a perpetual disposition to pry into everything, to meddle with everything, to be constantly abroad,




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.        107
watching the tempers of others, whispering strange things;
and then, by a tacit understanding in the first instance, and,
afterwards, by a concerted agreement, to pounce upon society
and to take possession by storm of the consciences of other
men. It is thus that great numbers, suspecting no evil, and
intending to commit none, are gradually inveigled into a snare,
and, bound hand and foot, are delivered into the hands of a
small, but mischievous sect. Those good, and well to do, citizens have naturally no other desire than to attend to their own
occupations, and to be obedient to the laws. But there is a
lurking vanity in the bosoms of all men, and these discreet
and exemplary citizens, when this new chord is touched, often
respond to it with unusual animation. They delight to listen
to something new, not only because it breaks up the monotony
of their pursuits, but because it seems to be an act of great
deference and condescension, on the part of the knowing ones,
to mingle with them, to learn their experience, and to talk and
consult with them on topics where they were never consulted
before, and would not be now if there were not a design upon
them. The sect I have alluded to may be described as the gobetweens of society; a term which is odious enough in the
relations of private life, but much more so when the activity it
implies is not confined to private life, but is extended into the
heart of society. In the first, it often foments discord among
individuals who were united by the closest ties of friendship
or consanguinity, and sometimes produces the total wreck of
domestic happiness. But in the last the propensity to mischief
is so insatiable, that it goes abroad in search of a wider field,
and more conspicuous victims to prey upon. It may be observed at all times, as well in a period of civil disorder, as in
one where government is occupied exclusively with dispensing
benefits to the people. But in the general fermentation, which
precedes a social revolution, and during the progress of the
revolution, it is particularly active, and never displays its
brazen front so shamelessly, as when it is laid bare to the public gaze, and good men begin to fly from it as a spectre of
darkness.
It has been said, with great truth, that he who permits another to tell him his story for a twelve month together, is sure
to be mastered by him in the end: he who gains your confi



108       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
deuce so far as to be able, day after day, to pour into your ear
his tale, however extravagant it may be, is sure at the end of
that time, to draw you after him, and to become victorious
over your opinions: and it is not less true, that the class which
possesses most stirring, meddling activity, and insinuates itself
stealthily into the public confidence, will, for the time being at
least, obtain the mastery over all other classes, however numerous, but whose habits are comparatively inactive. Politics
opens the widest arena for the exercise of this low and grovelling activity. It is there that private animosities, mingling
with discontent, endeavor to find a vent, and impress upon all
political disputes, a dark, and malignant hue. It is there that
the whisper, and the inuendo, have full play, and through the
channel of the most confidential intercourse, disturb the feelings of the quiet, shake the opinions of the credulous, rouse
the misgivings of the conscientious, and finally subdue the
wills of a majority of the population. Allow me to write the
ballads of a people, and I will waive an undisputed sceptre
over them, was said more than two centuries ago by an adept
in human nature. But the people were then less informed,
and more imaginative than now; and this new sect had not yet
been born into the world. The popular elevation is, in every
respect, so much increased that it requires something more
than the song, or the ballad, however fascinating, to make captive of their feelings. A more subtle machinery is now requisite, in order to deal with them, and to render them subservient to the schemes of the artful and designing.
But it is this very elevation of the popular mind which contributes to the formation of that species of character which I
have described., The dispersion of knowledge and property
produces a certain shrewdness of understanding; and these
advantages, falling upon those who are endowed with an uncommonly active and restless temperament, with great selfpossession, and an unscrupulous disposition, train them in all
the arts of chicanery and tergiversation, and ultimately organize them into a well-disciplined band ot trading politicians,
jobbers alike in the consciences and property of other people.
In the even tenor of ordinary times, they are disarmed and
closely watched. It is in times of public disorder and confusion, that they thrive most; for these are calculated to hide




REFLECTIONS ON THIE PRESENT CRISIS.         109
them from observation. Like a flock of vultures, which darken
the air, before they spring upon their victims, they are never
so disposed to prey upon their fellow creatures, as whenthey
are in. need of sympathy, of counsel, of assistance. Ia the conflagration of a city, those who are disposed to pillage have the
fairest opportunity to do so. In the tumult of the moment,
they run off with the money and other valuables they have
rifled, and are not distinguished from those who were most
active in extinguishing the flames. So the band of political
incendiaries first apply the torch to the edifice of state, and
then riot in the sp'oils, which the general dismay and confusion
have scattered before them.
If such a period occurs when those who are at the head of
public affairs are not distinguished for great lines of character,
or for eminent qualities of the understanding; and it is almost
impossible that it should occur, if they were so, this corps of
political undertakers are hailed as an important auxiliary in
the execution of any schemes, whether lawful or unlawful.
Their unceasing activity, suppleness and dexterity recommend
them in the first instance; their acquaintance with tempers,
their knowledge of the political gossip of the day, and their
submissive and complaisant behavior recommend them still
further, and through the assemblage of so many odious, and
even' contradictory qualities, they obtain an easy victory over
the feeble, irresolute and vascillating individuals, in whose
hands the reins of power are dangling.
We have been accustomed to divide the population of a
country into the two classes of productive and unproductive
laborers; that is, properly into those who contribute to the
physical, or moral strength of the society; and those whose
office is merely negative, that is unproductive but harmless.
But now we are presented with another distribution in consequence of the addition of a class which is unproductive, and
very injurious to the public interests: a class whose whole life
is devoted to doing mischief, and promoting dissensions, and
heartburnings, among the other members of society. As a class,
it is entirely of modern growth, and it becomes more formidable in proportion as a country advances in knowledge and
riches. In like manner, as there is a class in political economy,
who are denominated middle men; who, although they pro



110      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
duce nothing directly, yet perform the very useful part of distributing the commodities which are produced among those
who are able to purchase them; so we may denominate the
new class I have spoken of as the middle men in the political
world. Their vocation consists in circulating opinions, as the
first do commodities, among all those who are deemed too
careless, or too feeble in understanding, to form any opinions
for themselves. And as new opinions cost nothing, and are
even welcomed in consequence of their administering to that
love of strong sensation, which is inherent in the human character; the work of propagandism is to those who have the
hardihood, and address to enter upon it, one of the cheapest
as well as one of the easiest of all undertakings.
But it cannot be concealed, that at the present time the inordinate activity of this class is straining our institutions to
the uttermost, confounding all the well-adjusted parts of the
Constitution, and testing its ability to recover from the violent
shocks it has received. And even if the restorative power,
which sometimes resides in the worst constructed society, shall
bring it back to its natural state, the injury it will have inflicted cannot be repaired under half a century. It is the
critical period, the turning point in our history, and presents
a problem, upon the solution of which our destiny, in all future
time, will depend.
The reign of James the First is properly considered as the
era of the first appearance of parties in England, or indeed in
any part of Europe. A court and country party were then
organized; the one to consolidate power, the other to animate
the spirit of liberty: and from that time to the present, these
two parties, whether under the names of cavaliers and round
heads, of tories and whigs, or the still more modern ones, of
liberals and anti-liberals, have continued, by their mutual
rivalry, to adjust public affairs in conformity with the growing changes in society. But at the very time when parties
first made their appearance in England, another class also
grew up, who were known by the name of undertakers, whose
office consisted in playing the part of go-betweens, but whose
exertions constantly took a direction most favorable to the
advancement of power. Then commenced the great struggle
between liberty and power; the one bent on strengthening the




REFLECTIONS ON TIE PRESENT CRISIS.        111
hands of a government which endeavored to obliterate the
landmarks of the Constitution, the other inspiring alarm at
these encroachments; the one determined to render a proud
and independent people subservient to the most odious and
tyrannical schemes; the other striving to raise up the spirit
of liberty, and to breathe fresh animation into it. The deplorable civil war which followed was intended by the party
in power to fortify, more than ever, the prerogatives of the
Executive: but this design was frustrated; popular liberty
grew stronger and stronger, through the very efforts which
were made to repress it; and, after a temporary interruption,
shone out with increased lustre; and, annihilating in its course,
the undertakers, and go-betweens, has placed the Constitution
upon a firmer foundation than before. And perhaps, at some
future day, those who devote themselves to the study of our
institutions; at the same time that they will congratulate the
friends of freedom all over the world, on the down-fall of the
Marats, Legerdres, and Robespierres of the nineteenth century, will be able to detect the hidden properties which enabled the population to rebound with elastic force from the
enormous pressure imposed upon it, and to vindicate the title
of free institutions, to be regarded as the happiest contrivance
for promoting the happiness and well being of the greatest
number of people; and, for that very reason, calculated to uphold none but a wise, faithful and beneficent government.
At present, so far as regards our civil liberties, the most
invaluable blessing of good government, the signs are dark and
forbidding. In the center of that capital, which was once
lighted up by the genius and wisdom of statesmen, and in the
very building founded by the benevolent Smithson, for the
sole purpose, as expressed in his will, of spreading knowledge
among mankind, are to be heard, night after night, wild, and
furious imprecations upon those institutions which have been
built up by knowledge. The temple of science is so polluted
by these foul and obscene orgies, as to wring from the virtuous
men of the party a burst of indignation. The college of learning has been seized by the Jacobin club, and converted into a
school for the dissemination of barbarism. "' Devoid of social
feeling, and fatally bent upon mischief," (in the language of
the indictment for murder,) they are contriving to extinguish




112       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
our liberties in the blood of their fellow creatures. And not
far from this, in a building designed to fcster the plain, unpretending manner of the republican citizen, and for the dispensation of the hospitalities and amenities of life, was witnessed,
a few nights ago, a spectacle almost as unseemly. At a period
when a general gloom  and depression prevailed among all
classes, the executive mansion was brilliantly illuminated and
its spacious halls thronged with a gorgeous train of guests.
The sumptuous feast, the revelry and carousals of that night
laughed to scorn the lamentations of the private citizen, and
proclaimed that the violence done to our liberties was a subject of rejoicing and merriment. I have read of an ~Eastern
monarch, Mehemet Hassan, I believe, who never attended the
execution of his subjects without arraying himself in his most
gorgeous robes.
When we consider the extreme mental anarchy which prevails at the present period, we can not be surprised that any
opinions, however novel and startling, should be occasionally
hazarded. It can not be denied that a vague idea of monarchical government is constantly floating in the minds of
great numbers of persons, not only among the class devoted
to speculation, but among' persons of moderate condition, and
not well instructed. Some look upon the establishment of
that form of government as inevitable; others regard it as
both inevitable and desirable. The troubled state of society
at particular times whispers the thought, and a very imperfect
acquaintance with human nature contribute to rivet it upon
the mind. The great bulk of mankind are borne along by
sudden gusts of feeling, of which they can give no account to
themselves; and whenever the tranquility of society is violently broken in upon, they descry in the future a long train of
of disasters, and instantly fly to monarchy as the only means
of averting them. Most persons reason from analogy and not
by way of analysis; but the conclusions derived from the
former, even when right, are only fortunate guesses; while
those derived from the last resemble demonstrative truths. A
certain amount of anxiety and suffering operates as a healthy
discipline in public, as well as in private, life. It inspires
fortitude, and resolution, and imparts forethought, elergy, and
activity to the character. It is only when it exceeds all rea



REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.        113
sonable bounds that it disconcerts, and stupefies the mind; or
taking another direction, renders the character fretful and revengeful.
The best contrived institutions, the fullest enjoyment of civil
and political liberty, are not always sufficient to prevent, or to
allay, that discontent which takes possession of every one before he has arrived to manhood. The dull and unvaried aspect
of society, in time of peace, renders them uneasy and restless,
no matter how high, or how low, their position may be. They
desire a change, without knowing whither this change will
carry them. But this ill regulated feeling is even more common in a monarchical government, than in a republic, as the
history of every European monarchy attests: so that that form
of government does not relieve society from one of the greatest
evils to which it is exposed. The indulgence in strong excitement encourages the repetition of it, and society is set on fire
in order to rouse the population from the weariness and lassitude into which it has fallen. The nobility and gentry, as well
as the common people, are devoured by this feeling. Cupidity,
ambition, and cruelty take possession of the character, and the
operations of war, either foreign or civil, become the ordinary
pastime of society. The case of the Duke of Norfolk, in the
reign of Elizabeth, is only one among innumerable examples
which show that no advantages of nature, or of fortune, either
in private, or public life, are sufficient in monarchical government to protect society from that sullen discontent which,
above all others, annoys that form of government. The histories of all the European States afford abundant proofs of
this. England, Holland and Switzerland are even now the
only exceptions to the general rule. But they who are alarmed
by the troubles and disorders which occasionally take place in
a republic; they who believe that it is not the most tranquil,,
nor the most durable form of government, may insist that at
least a tempered, or constitutional monarchy, is better adapted
to procure all the advantages of solidity and freedom. They
have not reflected that it is precisely because the democratic,
element enters so largely into the composition of constitutional
monarchy, that it is rendered both stronger, and freer, than it
would otherwise be. They have not entered upon the further
inquiry, whether the structure of society does not absolutely,
8




114     EREFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
and every where, determine the character of political institutions: so that it would be as impossible to found limited
monarchy in the United States, as it would be to re-establish
absolute monarchy in Great Britain. All the political institutions on the globe are governed by determinate laws; and
those laws are no where to be found, but in the distinctive
organization of the society.
The montarchical regime has its root in this very simple
principle, that society, taken in the aggregate, contains such a
jumble of discordant materials; that the members can not
agree among themselves, and a government very naturally,
-and even necessarily, springs up which is independent of their
wills. The great inequality in the distribution of knowledge,
property and power, produces a corresponding dissimilarity in
the manners; and it is through the manners (for want of a,more precise term) that the members of society act upon one
another. It is not difficult to understand why it is that where
-there is a great amount of poverty and ignorance in a commu-,iity, so as to forbid the deliberate formation of regular government, it will still be easy to hold society together in some sort,of fashion at first, and afterwards in a more skillful and perfect manner. It will be held together by the aid of those very.qualities which prevent any thing like concert and agreement
among the members, and deny them the faculty of deliberation and choice. The chief of hardly any of the European.monarchies would have been elected to his place by the population. But in the first beginning of the government, that
chief possessed more wealth than any other individual, or was,distinguished for his military talents. His commanding posi-,tion then, on the one hand, and the powerlessness and impo.tence of the members on the other, enabled him- to usurp authority, and to wield an absolute dominion over them. As
they are unable to agree among themselves upon any plan of,public conduct, much less of framing those general rules which
are necessary to the maintenance of order, in the smallest and
rudest association, the privilege necessarily falls to one, whose
interest alone enables him to compress the incoherent mass
into something like a regular association. If the country ori-:ginally contained several chiefs of tribes (as was undoubtedly,the case) the same process will take place. The small share




IREFLECTIONS ON TIHE PRESENT CRISIS.        115
of intelligence which exists among those chiefs prevents them
from framing anything like a skillful, and well-contrived
government for the whole state. The prerogative of ruling
over the whole will then fall by the tacit, not by a deliberate,
consent, to some one who, from accident or the possession of
certain personal qualities, eclipses all the other chiefs, and who
thenceforward is placed in a position so imposing, so fitted to
strike upon the imagination and to coerce the obedience of
others, that he will be able to establish a firm authority over
the whole. When this step, so natural, because it is spontaneous and gradual, is taken, the force which the imagination
lends to this rude government will be inconceivably heightened.
The extent of the country and the mysterious notions which
are intertained about royal authority, will enable the king to
repress disorder after a fashion, and to give to the society some
sort of resemblance to a community, or commonwealth. This
is the first and indispensable condition to the commencement
of anything like regular government. All the governments of
Asia, and Europe have undergone this process. When this
stage is reached, circumstances more or less favorable, will
slowly, and gradually, advance the population. The principle
of progress, which is inherent in society, after it has reached
a certain point; that is, after it has assumed the character of
a civil association; will, when combined with other circumstances, the race which composes the population, the position
of the country, the capacity of the soil, &c., contribute, in
various ways, to forward the march of improvement. Some
countries will attain a high civilization and regular government after a thousand years; others, perhaps, in not less than
two or three thousand.
Thus there is an invariable tendency in every society which
is composed of incongruous, and discordant materials, and in
which ignorance, brutality and vice exists to a great extent,
to fall under the lead of some one whose authority is more or
less absolute. But here we are met by a great difficulty. As
every country, no matter how far advanced in civilization and
intelligence,'always contains a large admixture of those very
elements, it is a problem of great importance, whether, under
all circumstances, the monarchical regime will not be better
adapted, than any other form of government, to society con



116       REFLECT'IONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
sidered as a whole; whether, in short, it will ultimately supercede all others as being the most natural and the most efficient
engine of government. It was necessary that I should, in a
rapid survey, point out those causes which lead to the formation of regal government, before I endeavored to explain the
operation of others, which are of a different character, and
which, if they imply a material change of the social organization, will infallibly alter the political institutions. If the prevalence of ignorance and vice, to a certain extent, is not inconsistent with the establishment of representative government, then the precise problem presented to us is, to what degree they may exist, without rendering it necessary to employ
the imposing, but dangerous apparatus of monarchical government. The problem is a delicate one; but its solution is not
impossible. The structure of society must undoubtedly differ
greatly from that which I have described, or from that which
exists in almost every European monarchy, at the present day.
The number of persons interested in the possession and secure
enjoyment of property, real or personal, of those engaged in
regular industrial pursuits, and endowed with sufficient intelligence, not merely by education, but by the moral and intellectual discipline which their pursuits impose, must be so large
as to make up the substantial part of the population; so substantial, that its voice may be heard, and its influence felt,
from one extremity of the country to the other. When this is
the case, the residue of the population, whose presence, at first
seems to be alien to the genius of a republic, begin to play
an important part in upholding that very form of government.
-They act as a perpetual restraint upon those who are placed
above them, as any one who examines the economy of society,
in any part of American population, however small, may satisfy himself. The sense of propriety and justice alone, would
not be sufficient to maintain good behaviour among classes, or
individuals, unless there were added to it more active incentives. The annoyance produced by disorderly conduct in
others fortifies the instinctive sense of propriety among the
greater number, by exercising the reflective faculties, and
showing by incontestible proofs, that even the interest of individuals depends chiefly upon good conduct. In addition to
the class which is most deeply impressed with the value of




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.        117
good government, the industrious class, is an inert body when
it is not strongly impelled. It contains a latent moral force,
however, which is all that is desirable. The rougher part of
the population represent the active force, which yet can only
be exerted with the countenance of the middle class. Local
disorders may take place among the lower classes; but no political revolution has originated, or can originate, without the
avowed concurrence of the classes above them. The constant
presence of these two forces, the one habitually dormant, but
-capable of being roused to great exertion; the other an active
instrument, but incapable of being employed for much mischief, unless it is guided by others, acts silently, and imperceptibly, as a preventative check to a multitude of excesses,
on the part of the government, or to any permanent incroachment of one part of society upon the other. Not that it does
so in every particular instance; but that such is its tendency;
and that in the long run of human affairs, and even for any considerable period, such will be its invariable operation. When
we speak of the tendency of society in a particular direction,
we necessarily have reference to something which'is inherent in its structure, something which depends upon its organization; otherwise, it would be something merely fortuitous. This tendency, then, is a law, which in the long run,
controls the aberration of both governments and people.And that a tendency towards the maintenance of order and a
wise administration of public affairs, has shown itself uninterruptedly in the United States from 1789 to 1861-a period of
seventy-two years-does not require to be worked out by analysis, for it is demonstrated by the whole history of public
transactions during that period. It tells of something which
not only does not countenance the idea of the establishment
of monarchy; but which will render such an event impossible,
happen what may. Governments can neither be made nor unmade. Their existence and form are determined by causes as
fixed and independent of the will, as those which cling to an
individual from the cradle to the grave. Notwithstanding the
atrocious scenes of the French Revolution, and the unceasing
efforts of the bad men who ruled the country, to turn everything upside down, and to mutilate all the civil and political
institutions, everything has returned to its proper place. Or
rather society, keeping pace with the advancing improvement




11s       REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.'
of the European mind since that time, has been greatly
ameliorated. For although the government is called an empire,
it is, in truth, a constitutional monarchy; and is administered
with infinitely more prudence, equity and discretion than it
was during the reign of any of the Bourbons. Monarchy may
be said to be the normal condition of France, and republican
institutions that of the United States. It is towards the normal, not the abnormal, condition that everything gravitates.
In pursuing this examination, I shall occupy myself with
facts which are familiar to every one; for it is that class of
phenomena which are the most instructive, and the most difficult of analysis. Their familiarity vulgarises them, and renders it distasteful to approach them: but this outside conceals
the elements of the reasoning which are at our command.
The first line of the Abbe Sieges' celebrated pamphlet, on the
opening of the French Revolution, contained these remarkable
words:'"What is the tiers etats I (the middle class?) Everything."  If he had been writing in the United States, instead
of in France, the answer would have been rigorously true.
It is the rise of this new element, no where so strongly and
distinctly marked as in the United States, which has modified
the whole form of society; and, consequently, the structure of
the government. The heterogeneous materials of which society was formerly composed, rendered some principle of unity
necessary, if it were only to hold society together. And there
was no way of attaining this but by the united influence of
fear and superstition. And an hereditary monarchy, an order
of nobility, and an ecclesiastical hierarchy, were the natural offspring of this state of society. These contrivances have escaped
from our hands in consequence of a radical change in the manners; and our only choice is between representative government and no government at all. That the former will be environed with difficulties, no one can doubt: for this is the case
with all human institutions. Difficulties and embarrassments
are as indispensable a discipline in the social economy as in
private life, and if there is any semblance of truth in the singular remark of Nieburh, that "the lust of gain and the lust
of office will carry the people of the United States back to a
state of barbarism;" that calamity so unprecedented in the
history of the world will be prevented by the afflictions and




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.            119
troubles which these demoralising qualities will engender. —
Europe was once overtaken by the' darkness of the middle
ages; but this was brought about by causes extevnwal to the
society, the invasion by the barbarians of every country which
possessed anything like regular government, and even then it
is easy to see, that those countries finally emerged from their
miserable condition through the instrumentality of the sufferings they endured.
There is, undoubtedly, great difference between unity of
action in one individual and among many.  But there is
abundant provision in a republic for causing the measures of
government to conspire to the end. 1st. 1st. Public opiion. This
alone is overwhelming: for it has the power to overturn some
of the strongest and most compact monarchies of the old
world; and it has modified, fundamentally, the public administration in all. But public opinion is a much more formidable
instrument in the United States than it was in England in
1630, the time and country of its first appearance in the world.
A vastly greater number of' persons at the present day contribute to its formation, because a vastly greater number are
lifted to a higher condition. In both countries, at the present
day, it acts as a constant check to foreign war, and intestine
convulsions, (with the single exception of the existing civil
war,) with infinitely more efficacy than did regal goverlment,
through the whole line of princes who succeeded Williaim the
First.  2d. In a republic the apparatus of government is of a
sufficiently imposing character.  The same gradation of offi
cers exists as in a monarchy; a chief executive mngistrate,
with administrative agents, subordinate to him. The differene
consists in the source of power, and in the fact that in one
case the government represents the public will in reality; in
the other, it represents it naturally. 3d. The division of power
between a central government and the domestic j urisdictions in
an extensive, and well constituted republic, (and none catn be
well-constituted unless it admits this plan,) renders it easier
to attain unity of design. The less complex and multifarious
the affairs which fall under the superintendence of the central
government, the greater is the facility of imparting singleness
of purpose to that government. The attention is not distracted by the perpetual crossing of different interests. 4th. This




120      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
great complexity in the composition of this double government, while there is so much singleness of purpose in each of
its organs, strikes upon the imagination, and gives more force
to the public will. 5th. Great misconceptions exist with regard to the unity of design which is ascribed to monarchical
government. The history of no European monarchy discloses
any such fact. The general rule has been the other way: the
exceptions alone accord with the hasty, and yet very general,
impression which has been received. This quality would be
most apt to show itself in time of war; and accordingly, it is
to the military enterprises of the European governments, that
the attention has been principally turned. But war is beginning to play a very subordinate part in the management of
public affairs. In our modern societies interests of much
greater magnitude engross public attention. A nation which
now enters upon war, is considered as in open insurrection
against the spirit of the age. But even in the conduct of war
the fact is not as has been supposed. It is the reverse. The
history of every European country-of France, England,
Spain, &c., from the earliest period to the close of the last
century, is marked by the greatest confusion in the conduct of
both foreign and domestic affairs. For if the vice exists in
one department, it will exist in all others. The annals of
these three countries, ard it is the same of all others, are distinguished by military enterprise, badly conceived and badly
executed, and by frightful disorders, which were sometimes
appeased, but never eradicated, The vigor of action, which
was occasionally exhibited is attributable to the personal qualities of the prince who happened to be on the throne, and not
to any property which belongs to monarchical government, as
such. It will accord more with the truth, if all those governments were characterised as bedlams for more than a thousand
years, than as governments which wielded a decisive authority,
either at home or abroad. I would say, that Great Britain,
during the last seventy years, and the United States during
the same period, until within a year, afford the most striking
examples of genuine unity of conception, and action, continued for any considerable period, and applied to the whole
sum of public affairs: the one a republic, the other the most
republican monarchy which ever existed.




REFLECTIONS ON THEE PRESENT CRISIS.        121
The notion that the strong arm of an hereditary magistrate
is necessary to direct the public will, has taken such firm posession of some very enlightened minds, that it is difficult even
with the blaze of light which all history sheds upon the subject, to remove it. Perhaps there is no department of knowledge in which the education of men is more defective than in
that of history. This may be because to study history with
advantage requires a greater amount of preparatory knowledge
than any other department.
It is plain that the peace of society can not be maintained
without some sort of coercion. It is this which makes the difference between society and government. Government succeeds
to society in consquence of the constant rivalry of two forces, the
selfish, or personal interests of the individual, and the feebler
sense of the common welfare. If the existence of both these forces
is necessary to the advancement of the race, the existence of
both society and government is necessary to keep them in a due
equilibrium, to prevent one of these principles from mastering
the other. In a well ordered commonwealth the great bulk of
the population seem to move in the path assigned them by the
laws, from a sense of propriety, or a conviction of duty. But
in reality it is not so. The propensities and passions of the
individual are perpetually struggling to find a vent which
would disturb this harmony. Their interest, &c., have great
influence in preventing these mischiefs: but the constant presence of the machinery of government, which envelopes them
on all sides, is absolutely necessary to remind every one of the
double relation he holds to the community, and Where the laws
are firmly established, the habit of living under them, and the
experience of the great advantages they yield, contribute wonderfully to fortify the sense of propriety, and the sense of
justice. As this machinery of government is of so much efficacy the great desideratum is to make it act, not only upon individuals; but through their intervention. It then presses
with more force and authority upon each, because it represents
the combined will of all. There is a sort of conventional
government every where established, even in private life,
which materially controls the actions of individuals, and prevents, in the great majority of cases, a multitude of aberrations which the laws can not guard against. The human mind




122      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
is not so metamorphosed by living under civil government,
that it can not apply the same faculties to everything which
interests it. If the inferior part of our nature, the sense of
interest, is the moving spring, in rousing the individual to reflection, as well as to action, it is not the less so in everything
which concerns him as a citizen. And it is because the sense
of private and public interest are so closely interwoven, when
government is made to act not only open, but by and through
the people, that it is more successful in maintaining order, and
in giving unity to all political plans, whether of foreign or domestic policy,
In speaking of the rivalry between the passions and appetities of the individual and the social propensities, I have considered the first as having the ascendency. But it is necessary to make a distinction of great importance. The grosser
and more selfish propensities, do undoubtedly preponderate
over the social. But there is a very large class which, although
they originate in desires, personal to the individual, are only
nourished and supported by living in society. This is the case
with all those which impel to the acquisition of property.
They are dormant in a rude state, make feeble progress under
a mere association, and are fully developed after society and
regular government have been established. It is only necessary
to look through the vast system of industrial pursuits which
occupy the people in a highly civilized community, to be convinced of this. Individuals are then knit together by motives
and interests which, if they could act separately, would tear
them asunder. But they can not so act without destroying all
these springs to personal interest, which we suppose to animate the great bulk of the population. And in this way a
firm and durable connection is created, between the selfish and
the social instincts. Every'department of industry, from the
highest to the lowest, subsists and thrives upon the sole condition, that there is a constant interchange and communication
between all parts of the society. But for this strong bond
which connects the lower part of our nature with the higher,
moderating the former and elevating the last; the farmer, the
manufacturer, merchants, bankers, clerks, agents, day laborers,
would cease to be animated beings. All the incentives which
contribute to the gratification of private interests, would be




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS,         123
dried up. This connection between personal interest and the
social interest, is now so strong, and its influence so generally
felt, that for the first time in the history of society, it is beginning to draw nations together who had before regarded each
other as natural enemies. The people of England and America are, now united upon the same principle that the city of
New York is with the western country. And if it is necessary
that the imagination should play a part in the matter, the stupendous improvements in each, the daring exploit of steam
navigation, the world fairs, &ec., produce emotions if not so
vivid, yet more sublime and sustained than the battles of
Trafalgar and Austerlitz.  The launching of the Leviathan
produced an electrical sensation among the vast multitude
which witnessed it, not unlike the wild joy which, among a
warlike people, succeeds the gaining of a great victory. And
this feeling was responded to throughout the United States.
The identity of interests among the great body of the population imparts genuine unity of plan to the government.
There is no other way by which this can be effected; and they
who suppose that regal government is the means by which
this result is brought about have misinterpreted all history,
and misconceived the principles on which society is now based.
There is no scheme of domestic or foreign policy which government should pursue, in a society constituted like the American, which is not clearly indicated by the wants, exigencies,
and interests of the community.  The office which government then performs, is to feel the public pulse, to separate the
genuine opinion of the community from the factitious. When
it has done this it is armed with infinitely more authority than
monarchs have usually employed. And if it fails in its duty
from ignorance or corruption, it is sure to be brought back to
the true line of policy by public opinion, which is even rendered more correct by the failure to consult it. It was for
want of this unity of interests in society, that all the old European monarchies exhibited such frightful scenes of disorder,
such fluctuation in the public councils, such humiliating expedients to retrieve the dignity and honor of the throne. For
they who point to monarchical government, as the instrument
of introducing order and obedience to the laws, would have
us shut our eyes to the fact, that all the European States, un



124      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
til very modern times, were convulsed by intestine dissensions,
and a prey to the most extravagant and sinister counsels.Society was not governed, but trampled upon. If, in some instances, the monarch occasionally displayed great vigor and
activity, it was only in the field of war. There is not a single
reign, either Elizabeth of England, nor Henry the Fourth of
France, nor Frederick the Second of Prussia, which fulfils the
idea of a wise and upright prince, attentive only to the true
interests of his kingdom, and pursuing them with a steady and
inflexible will. From the foundatien of the French monarchy
to the revolution, there is not a single reign, except, perhaps,
that of Louis the Ninth, which is not stained by the atrocities of king, nobility and people. If we examine the past
history of any European State, (it is indifferent which,) it will
be found that the most striking feature which it displays is
the violence done to the industrial pursuits of the people, by
the most brutal wars, by taxes so oppressive as almost to destroy
the motives to exertion, by extortions, monopolies and forced
loans, by rebellions which may have been averted, and were only
fomented by the absurd measures employed to arrest them.
If we examine the condition of the principle European
kingdoms, twenty years after the death of Louis XIV., when
Europe had attained a pretty high civilization, there is nothing to contradict, but everything to confirm, these views. In
France, the government was in the hands of a bloated debauchee, who congratulated himself that the old monarchy
would hold together at least during his life. And it did not
last one day longer. In Spain the state of affairs was equally
deplorable. Philip the Fifth was almost constantly in a state
bordering upon idiocy; and even when not so, had neither the
capacity, nor the desire to do good; and the country groaned
under a rule, no worse, and no better, than it ever had been.
In Portugal, under John the Fifth, in Prussia under Frederick
the First, we perceive no evidence of unity of plan, other than
what proceeds from the fitful, and disordered passions of a
brutal or pusillanimous tyrant. In England, at the same period, under George the First, we observe a faint glimmering of
that settled policy, which has since marked the course of the
government; and which alone may be dignified with the name
of system, or plan, The king was a brute; but the advance



REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          125
ment of general intelligence, through the growing industrial
activity, was such as to compel him to obedience to the public will, and to impress government with something like singleness of aim and purpose. For, as I have before observed,
the foundation of unity in the government can only be found
in a certain degree of unity of interests, and opinions in the
society. If this can not be obtained, regal government will
not cure the defect. If it can be, a republic will, sooner or
later, inevitably rise up. It is because civilization and intelligence are more equally diffused throughout America than
any where else, that there is more uniformity of views and
opinions, notwithstanding occasional divergencies; and it is
this uniformity, this consistency, and coherence of the whole
mass which has made it possible for the government to act
with promptitude and decision. It would be a great mistake
to suppose that free institutions had been adopted from choice.
The monarchical regime was not discarded, because it was a
matter of opinion to reject it. The structure of society, which
rules over all political institutions, forbid it.  The scheme
formed soon after the Revolutionary war to make Washing
ton king was stifled in its conception, because it was an attempt to reverse all the known laws of society.
It is a great protection to a community when its destiny is
made to depend upon certain fixed principles; and the protection is increased as the structure of society becomes more
complicated. One spring adds strength to another; and if
the machinery is violently disturbed in one part, the part unaffected will perform the requisite functions, until the disorder
is removed. What depends upon the will of one, or a few, is
not the subject of calculation: what depends upon a great
number is. And for the same reason, what depends upon a
very complicated structure of society is reduced to much more
certainty than what depends upon a structure of greater
simplicity.
They who insist upon the promptitude and alacrity with
which monarchical government is supposed to act, forget to
inquire, to what end those qualities have been exerted in much
the greater number of instances. Dispatch is worse than useless, it is pernicious, if it is chiefly employed in the aggrandisement of the throne, and courtiers who surround it, and in




126      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
trampling under foot the people, who are supposed to be
governed.
I have glanced rapidly at the condition of public affairs in
five of the European kingdoms in the middle of the eighteenth
century: but we may select any period, during the thousand
preceeding years; and the aspect of society is even more forbidding. It is only since the opening of the present century,
that a marked alteration has taken place: and this is attributable solely to the direct intervention of the democratic
principle in one or two, and to its indirect influence in some
others. Genuine unity is not the property of an hereditary
government vper se: it is the offspring of a new condition of
society, which will probably alter, fundamentally, the structure
of regal government, or dispense with it altogether.
Two systems of government exist in the world; one depending upon the concentration, the other upon the distribution of
power. The great problem is, which is destined to prevail,
which has the fairest chance of succeeding, in a highly advanced society; in a society where the great bulk of the population stands high in the scale, in regard to both property and
intelligence; for it will be conceded, that in an opposite condition of society, the first must prevail. The concentration of
political power in a few, is the necessary consequence of the
concentration of the social power in a few. And for the same
reason the distribution of political power, is the natural consequence of the distribution of the social power. Social power
is nothing more than the exercise, in embryo, of political
power. The dispersion of knowledge and property; the exeristence of a vast system of industrial pursuits, connecting individuals and exercising more or less, their mental faculties,
are the very simple elements on which representative government reposes. Liberty of thought, speech and action, are the
springs which give force and activity to these elements. A
condition of society totally different from what existed when
the old monarchies of the world sprung up, can not fail to produce results corresponding with it. The connection between
cause and effect can not be broken in one instance and preserved in all others. Representative government, therefore,
can not be regarded as an artificial contrivance, dependent
upon the will, but as a natural evolution from a preceding




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.           127.
order, which will admit of none other permanently. What we
call public affairs only express what is the character of private
interests. From the nature of the last, therefore, we may predict, with considerable certainty, what will be the character of
the first. It will consist after making allowance for the aberrations to which society, in its best estate, is subject, in administering government, with a view to the promotion of the
substantial interests of the population. Not all the outward
splendor nor the imposing apparatus of government prevent
this from now being the chief care of Great Britain. The
throne, the nobility and the ecclesiastical establishment stand;
but greatly enfeebled in power. The commonality wield the
legislation of the country; and its influence has modified all
existing institutions. Nothing affords so clear an insight into
the character of a government, than the nature of its laws.
The statutes of England have multiplied during the last forty
years more than during the preceding one hundred. Government is now occupied with watching over the domestic interests of the country; and these have so increased in magnitude
and extent as to shape nearly the whole legislation of the
kingdom. And thus a principle of unity within the society
has succeeded to the discordant elements which existed in the
times of the Tudors and Stuarts. The subordination of ranks,
the subordination of the people to the laws, the subordination
of the employments in civil life, are infinitely better maintained, in this semi-democratic commonwealth, than it was under the compact and undivided rule of the monarch. For the
principle of subordination is created by the same causes which
give consistency and coherence to the population. The immense mass of employees, agents, operatives and laborers,
could not subsist without their occupations; but these, as the
terms indicate, are dependant upon other employments. The
last, therefore, must govern and direct. The maxim, "knowledge is power" is nowhere more remarkably exemplified, than
in the daily and multifarious occupations of common life.
These introduce intellectual activity into every department of
life. The spectacle is now so familiar to us that we are unable
to appreciate the character. But if we were transported back
to the sixteenth or seventeenth century, we would instantly
perceive the difference between the wild uproar which then




128      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
prevailed, and the tranquil condition of society which now
exists. The very causes which, it is supposed, threaten to
paralyse the public authority, are constantly operating to
strengthen it. The unbounded freedom of thought and action
is forever employed in enlarging the field of individual and social
enterprise. And even if these did not lay the foundation of that
general principle of subordination, which commences with civil
life, and is afterwards carried into political life; they would
be of inestimable value in withdrawing the mind from attempts hostile to the government. They who suppose that
every petty commotion, or that even a great commotion, threatens to subvert the existing form of government in the United'
States, contribute, by their very misgivings, to fortify the true
spirit of ourinstitutions. To be alarmed when we are treading
upon dangerous ground is our great security. We require so
many guards both in public and private life, against mistakes
or excesses of one kind or another, that every doubt, every scruple, with regard to the course whither we are tending, is invaluable. It is the class which entertains these misgivings, which
contributes to save the government from shipwreck. But it
is the free institutions of the country which have created that
class. In 1795, Mr. Fox writes to a friend: "I am convinced
that in a very few years this government will become a despotism, or that confusion will arise of a nature as much to be
depreciated as despotism." The prediction has been signally
falsified. But it has been so because the fears entertained by
him were felt by the whole party of which he was the leader;
and these arrested the headlong proceedings of the government.
That which places the greatest imaginable difference between the question of monarchy in the United States and in
Europe, is that in the last the institutions sprung originally
from an uncivilized society; it was a spontaneous growth.
But in the last it would have to be established on reflection.
But the moment we talk of reflection, which supposes plan,
design, forethought, there is an end to those schemes which
presume that men are to be governed by the force of the imagination. I believe if the English people were entirely free
from the prepossessions, which the habit of living under regal
government from time immemorial has created, and were now
to set about framing a constitution, that neither an hereditary




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          129
prince, nor an order of nobility nor an ecclesiastical hierarchy,
would have a place in the system. These institutions are too
grotesque and artificial to suggest themselves to a convention,
which was framing a government for a highly advanced society.  A  convention now  assembled, would undoubtedly
create a strong government: it would confine the effective political power to the middle class. It is only since this class
has become a great power in the State, that it has been able
to influence all the motions of the government. Compare the
frightful condition of France under Charles the Sixth, or of
Spain, under Philip the Fifth, with the prosperous condition of
England under George the Third, and we can be at no loss to
seize the clue which explains the difference. All these monarchs
were subject to fits of insanity. In the country where a great
middle class was rising up, the public councils were distinguished for promptitude and decision. In the two where the
population was a rabble, they were marked by confusion and
disorder. In the last, the kings were almost idiotic; and yet
were all-powerful for evil: in the first, the population was so
far advanced, that the infirmity of the king did not for a moment disturb the prosperous career of the nation. In the
short period which elapsed from 1790 to 1848, four kings were
driven from the throne of France; and driven from it, because, although standing in the vapguard of civilization, they
failed in promoting those great ends for which civil government is supposed to be established.
They who believe that monarchical government will ultimately supersede the free institutions of the United States.
can not suppose that the change will be the result of deliber-.
ate reflection. It will be brought about, they imagine, by implacable hostilities between the North and the South, by civil
war, and by organizing a great military force. Thus a scene
of wild disorder will be created: the reins of power will be
grasped- by some military chief, whose success has conferred;
great lustre upon him. He will have sufficient influence to.
name his successor, and the government will easily slide into.
an hereditary monarchy. All these things are supposed to
come to pass while the structure of society continues radically
the same as it is row. But it is impossible without a funda-.
mental change in this; and that would be the work not of a,
9




130      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
year, nor of fifty years. The revolution in the time of Charles
the First, and that of France in 1789, were abortive, because the
manners, habits and civil institutions, obstinately resisted a
change, which would have been as foreign to the organization
of society, as the introduction of regal government would be
to the condition of society in the United States. The principles of human reasoning are not changed because the phenomena are changed. At this day it would be impossible to
revive the authority of the Plantagenets or Tudor, and for
reasons more cogent it would be impossible to transform the
American Republic into an hereditary monarchy.
The machinery of the State governments opposes an insurmountable barrier to such a revolution. These domestic jurisdictions have been employed for a very long period in cultivating the arts of peace, in disseminating industry and knowledge, in consolidating public order and regulated freedom.
They each constitute a nucleus of civilization, embodying and
perpetually enforcing those principles which lie at the founda-,tion of the government. The machinery of society is infinitely.more complicated by the existence of these domestic governments than it would otherwise be; and the difficulty of breaking it up is greatly increased. An hereditary prince would
resemble the Doge of Venice, who was "a king in his robes, a
captive in the city, and a cipher out of it."
In a Republic the large amount of personal liberty enjoyed
by the citizens appears, to a careless observer, to give a loose.and disorderly aspect to society. But it is this very liberty
which renders the machinery of society so complicated, and,opposes a permanent obstacle to any change in the political
institutions. Intestine dissentions will not shake the government; but they will afford an invaluable fund of experience
for all future time. They can not eradicate the manners, nor
arrest the civilization, intelligence and industry of the coun-,try; they can not penetrate private life and destroy the discipline of domestic society, nor extinguish the innumerable,relations which exist among individuals growing out of their
habitual pursuits.
There is no science in which the application of abstract
principles is so difficult as in politics, and yet, abstract prin-,tiples are nothing more than the condensation of human ex-,perience and observation. But the moment we attempt to




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          131
make use of them in the affairs of life, we are brought into
conflict with the predominant passions of men which seem to
resist every effort to reduce human actions to system. But as
these principles are only the result of an observation of the
phenomena of real life, we must not be perplexed when we
look around us, and witness the vulgarities which cling to
every one of the materials we desire to employ in our reasoning. If we accept our propensities as a necessary condition of
our nature we should feel no more repugnance in accepting
those of others, as a part of their nature. Domestic society
presents the same aspect as public life: and yet it is the chief
school of those virtues which adorn the human character.No one despairs of that institution as one of the prime agents
of elevating our race. The same principles which play a part
there, are found in that large association which is made up of
families.  The same appetites and propensities, the same
rivalries and jarring interests, the same egotism and love of
authority, and rebellion against authority.  But neither of
these societies is composed of bad principles alone. The better part of our nature exerts a wide influence and even accompanies many of those actions which we term selfish. And the
reason why it is possible for the worst society to grow into the
best, rests upon this fundamental principle of human nature,
that the worst man has all the elements of the best. He who
carries the spirit of philosophical inquiry into politics, calculates upon every one of those qualities which make up human
nature, not merely upon the social but upon the personal, or
selfish, becausethe last are the most active springs of human
conduct, and because the interests of the great majority of
men, in the pursuit of their personal affairs are so interwoven,
that individual efforts necessarily conspire to a common end.
Hence a principle of order and obedience to government immediately discloses itself. This is spontaneous at first, but it
is constantly reinforced by reflection and experience. This
disconnection of individuals and yet close connection in society maintains the personal independence of the former, and
preserves the manners from an air of vulgar familiarity, while
at the same time it keeps alive the sympathetic, or social affections. A centripetal and a centrifugal force are as visible
in the moral as in the physical world, and the parts are thus




132      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
bound together in one harmonious system, although each obeys
laws which are proper to itself. Industrial pursuits have existed at all times and in all civilized countries, even among the
absolute European monarchies of the 17th and 18th.centuries,
but they never prevailed to any thing like the same extent,
nor were they of the same charactcr as in the United States
and Great Britain, at the present day.
The political institutions in a Republic strengthen the band
which connects individuals together. The population is divided into parties, and these when spread over a great extent
of country are obliged to confer together in order to attain any
general views. They preserve the individuality of persons
and yet cement them more closely as citizens. And thus party
politics, repulsive as is the name, answer a very important
end, one to which too little attention has been paid. For want
of seizing it, we are liable to fatal mistakes with regard to the
social condition and the political prospects of the United
States. I have referred to industrial pursuits as forming a
connecting link between our higher and lower faculties, elevating the last by placing them more under the control of the
first. Party unions in their various ramifications perform this
office, in a more direct and positive manner. The intellectual
faculties in the majority of men are more exercised by this
mixture of higher incentives with the grosser part of our
nature. It is indeed the chief field which is opened to the
great bulk of the population for the cultivation of those qualities. The three learned professions open a more important
arena, but it is only a small number comparatively, who can
crowd into them. Party politics, which keep alive a spirit of
curiosity, inquiry and discussion, promote this end among all
orders of men from the highest to the lowest. It is the only
occasion on which the mass of the people are brought into
immediate contact with the well-informed. The public education of the Athenian people has frequently been dwelt upon
as the instrument which formed them to be the most sagacious
plebeian body of antiquity. This education was sought in the
public assemblies which were addressed by the most gifted
minds, by the discussion to which this gave rise out of doors,
and by the organization of parties, in order to give force to
public opinion. But this species of discipline is greatly supe



REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          133
rior in the United States to what it was in Athens, in consequence of the more business habits of the population, of the
wider diffusion of education, of the greater number of minds
which are engaged, and by the larger and more ponderous interests which are subjected to exa.mination. Intellectual exertion of no very inferior kind mingles itself with a great pars
of the pursuits of men, and saves them from the drowsy stupidity or headlong extravagance of other populations. The
more complicated the affairs of society become the more is the
mind stimulated to exertion, in consequence of the greater
number of centres of activity and intelligence which are established. Some countervailing influence to the lower propensities is indispensable in representative government: aud
it is highly probable that a system of moral and mental training pursued under advantages superior to any which have before occured, will ultimately elevate the people still higher in
the social scale.-The intelligence and sagacity of the American people are proverbial in Europe. "I have never," says an
English traveler, "met with a stupid American."  This elevation of the popular mind is attributable to its public education. That is the school in which curiosity and inquiry are
roused. Without the three learned professions, we should be
deprived of a great part of the intelligence which distii.guishes the superior classes. These professions continue the
system of education through the whole of life: for what is
learned at academies and colleges is only a rough discipline,
and places in the hands of the adult the mere instruments of
mental exertion, which rarely commences before twenty-five.
There is no other education but self-education.
Besides imparting an intellectual cast to the character, the
direction which society has now taken, will render political
interests more accessible to the generality of men. It will give
a practical character to public affairs. It will gradually withdraw the attention of governments from the splendid but mischievous pursuits, which formerly occupied them, and fasten
it upon the plain and evident interests of the community.
This has already been verified in a remarkabla manner in the
United States, not only in the character of the general legislation but in the proceedings of the conventions, which have
assembled to form or amend the State constitutions. An idea




134      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
once prevailed that this task required abilities of the highest
order. It is not so; public good sense has popularised all the
institutions, the fundamental as well as the accessory. It has
accommodated them to the actual wants and exigencies of
society, and thus given them a character eminently practical.
It has robbed government of its imposing apparatus; but it
has made it cease to be a great mystery. The accomplishment
of this end, however distasteful to some minds, constitutes
one of the most important epochs in the history of modern
society.  And although our community seems now to be
shaken to its foundations by the insane counsels of incompetent and presumptuous rulers, we must not be alarmed. I
know when I see in the heavens a comet of portentious aspect
rapidly drifting to our planet, that the immutable laws of
nature will soon make it retire.
The social institutions of Continental Europe were distinguished in one remarkable particular from those of the United
States; they did not exhibit a civil connection between the
parts, but rather a dependence of one upon the other, and of
the whole upon the government: industrial pursuits in the
former were not on so gigantic a scale: nor were they animated by so much intelligence, for they were fettered by innumerable restrictions of the most odious character. The
political relations of men swallowed up their civil relations;
whereas the civil relations being the most extensive and durable, should be the foundation of the political. Throughout
Europe the close corporations of towns, of tradesmen and
artificers, the corvees, the forming of the taxes, the multitude
of monopolies, &c., gave a political cast to every form of industry. And it was this structure of society which fortified
the power of the throne, for the same reason that a totally
different structure in the United States has superseded the
throne, and rendered it impossible to decree its establishment.
Every pursuit was privileged; and as privileges are only lucrative because they are confined to a few, an inconsiderable
part of the active population engrossed the whole industry.
The rural population were mere peasants or serfs, the town
population were oppressed by the most mischievous and despotic restrictions. The English people were the first to escape
from this humiliating condition. Industry, consequently, took




REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.          135
firmer root, and has had a more robust growth; and instead
of a political dependence of classes, one upon the other, and
of the whole upon government, society is now resembled more
than in any other European State to a civil, or social connection between the citizens. In the United States, where this
revolution has been carried still farther, the p)henomena are
rendered so common by daily familiarity that they are not
appreciated. But their familiarity onl_ arises from the infinite
detail which belongs to them, and this circumstance would
render it an herculean task to take to pieces the complicated
machinery of either government or society. In France the
noblesse, two hundred thousand strong, domineered over the
rural population, and together with the clergy monopolized
three-fourths of the land; while the system  of privileged
industry pressed with an enormous weight upon the industry
of the towns. The spectacle exhibited in America of a vast
multitude of independent proprietors inhabiting the country,
and of a body equally independent and prosperous, prosecuting
every species of trade and manufacture in the towns is entirely
new. The character of the political institutions is immediately
disclosed by this composition of society; the independent
position of individuals has made them lovers of liberty; the
wide dissemination of industry, and the connection which
this creates among all orders of men, disposes them instinct.
ively to order, regularity and system: and this in turn has
led to the formation of a government strong to uphold the institutions, and to strengthen the bond which holds fast the
civil and social connection.
Some things may be predicted with regard to the course
which political events will take in the United States. 1st.
That the Confederacy of 1789 will be dismembered, and the
country divided into at least four Confederacies. 2d. That regal
government will never be established. 3d. That a powerful
middle class will always constitute the predominant element
of the population, and that it will therefore engross the political power. 4th. That a qualification will be imposed upon the
electoral franchise: whenever that stage is reached, at which
the class below the middle class begins to disturb materially
the action of the last. That this change can only be brought
about by the voice of the majority will oppose no obstacle to




136      REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.
its introduction, while its adoption in that way will differ it
entirely from any existing arrangement of the same character
in the European world.
The division of the present Confederacy, which terrifies
some minds, is an event which, above all others, is calculated
to prevent the catastrophe of kingly government. The immense
power which wvould otherwise be concentered in a single government, will be rendered harmless by a new distribution of
it. The rivalry of opinions and interests in different sections
of the country will cease. the passions of the people will be
appeased, and satisfied by confining the agency of government within a sphere more accessible to public opinion. Public affairs will be better administered, because they will be
simplified and better understood.:No one supposes that it
will ever be necessary to establish monarchical government in
Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, or Ohio. But it is most certain
that if it can not be established in them, it can never be established over them. Humanly speaking, there will never
exist in any single State such a confusion and discordance of
interests and opinions as to demand the presence of any other
form of government than now exists.
Such, then, is the effect which a new distribution of the
power of the central government will have. The administration in the new Confederacies will be more likened to that of
the State governments, while each will possess an amount of exterior power equal to that of the greatest kingdoms of Europe.
So that the extent of the present Union, the dissolution of it,
and the rise of kingly  government, which are supposed to
follow as logical consequences, one upon the other, have been
misinterpreted, and have no such meaning. The first will
inevitably conduct to the second; but the second so far from
conducting to the third is the very event which will forbid it.
The division of power, not its concentration, is the remedy,
wherever the dispersion of knowledge, property and power in
a country of vast extent has lifted the population so high,
that it can no longer be governed through the influence of the
imagination. Napoleon Bonaparte said that the alternative
in future would be between anarchy, or despotism, the Cossack,
or the Jacobins. Every day which has elapsed since his death
has falsified this audacious declaration. The European gov



EssAYS.                       137
ernments are better balanced, their administration is more
tempered and moderate, and the condition of society more
settled and regular, than at any period of which history gives
an account. This is the result of the operation of that very
principle, freedom of thought and action, to which he appealed,
as the precusor of anarchy or despotism. The alternative will
ultimately be between no government, or representative government.
E SSA Y S.
ESSAY I.
THE REASON OF ANIMALS.
An observation which I have frequently made, and which
must be faimiliar to every one, first led me to, suspect, that
there was a great error in the notion of those who believe
that atfimals possess reason. I have observed, that where the
domestic fowl is kept in the yard, or any adjoining iinclosure,
for the purposes of the table, that it never shows any disposition to escape. Day after day, some of the number may be
kill;:d in the l presence of the others; and yet the certain fate
which awaits these, never awakens alarm, never impels them
to leave the enclosure. A being endowed with the least glimmering of understanding, would put together the ideas it had
thus obtained, would deduce from them their natural consequenees,, antd instantly fall upon some means to extricfate itself
fromn so imminent a danger. I concluded from this observation,
which maCy be easily extended to a great variety of other actions, and to the conduct of all other brutes, that there must be a




138                     ESSAYS.
wide, and radical difference between their faculties, and those
of human beings; and that the error of those who attribute
reason to the former, must arise from confounding things
which are alike, but not identical.
The observation I made, together with numberless others,
satisfied me of the fact I was in search of, and led me to apply
a rigorous analysis to the subject: for if it is by observation,
that we establish a fact, it is only by analysis, that we elicit
a truth. First then, brutes have some faculties in common
with man; the five senses, for instance: and they have some
others, which are like those of human beings, as memory, volition and comparison. The remark that these are like certain
faculties in man, is of the greatest importance. It may seem
to contain an admission, that they have reason, whereas the
reverse is intended and will appear in the course of the examination. Secondly, they are entirely deprived of some faculties, and those the highest in the scale, which belong to the
human being. We are accustomed to comprehend under a
single name, all those faculties which denote an intellectual
origin; and all those which belong to our moral nature, under
another name. This is a consequence of the feebleness of our
mental vision, which is unable to discriminate, as in the case of
the five senses, not only the operations of our minds, but the
distinct inlets of our knowledge, and the precise faculties from
which this is derived. If our vision was more penetrating,
we would be able to discern, not only the existence, but the
exact source of our faculties, all differing from each other,
and more numerous than the five senses. We refer all intellectual ideas to consciousness, or reflection, and all moral ideas
to conscience; a striking proof how complicated and mysterious the structure of the human mind is, and how different
from any thing in the structure of animals. We may say of
all our knowledge, that it is derived from consciousncss, for
we are conscious of our sensations, as well as of any other set
of ideas. But this would denote a very imperfect analysis of
the nature, and origin of the former, and it is equally imperfect though without remedy in the actual state of our knowledge; as to all other ideas. We cannot lay our hand upon
the map of the understanding, and mark out, as we do in the
case of the five senses, not only the character of our ideas,




ESSAYS.                      139
and mental faculties, but the precise seat and locality of each.
From that reflex act of consciousness then, which we denominate reflection, seems to flow the vast multitude of ideas,
which are included under the general name of mixed modes.
These constitute the chief furniture of the human understanding: they make up the largest, and by far the most important
part of our knowledge. Nor is there the least reason to suppose, that brutes have even the faintest notion of them. A dog
may remain in a court house by the side of his master, while
the proceedings are going on.  These proceedings, that is
the various actions of the persons engaged, awaken in them,
and in the spectators, a whole host of ideas, to which the
dog is an entire stranger. These actions are all outward manifestations, are evidenced by physical acts, as are the actions
of the dog himself, and yet he is forever shut out from  all
knowledge of their nature and meaning. He may be taken
there every day he lives, and the result will be invariably the
same. His faculties do not admit of education, and improvement, and he is as blind to this class of ideas, when he dies
as when he was born. He sees the walls of the room, he feels
the floor on which he lies, he distinguishes his master from
other persons. These make up the sum of what he perceives.
But what a world of complex ideas are thrust upon the mind
of a rational being, by a single attendance upon such a place,
independently of those which are constantly crossing his mind
from other sources. It is not for want of language, that the
brute is placed in so disadvantageous a situation; for if a
foreigner were present, a great multitude of ideas would notwithstanding, spring up in his mind, and he would be able to
decipher the general meaning of what was presented to him,
through the outward actions which he witnessed. Without
language, the brute is quite alive to the objects which lie
within the very narrow circle of his facultieso It is because
the brute is wanting in intellectual capacity, does not possess
the higher faculties which belong to man; reflex consciousness, analysis, the powers of combination, generalization, imagination, &c., that he has not a language of some sort. To
a mere sensation, or animal feeling, inarticulate sounds are
well enough adapted, but to give expression to moral, or intellectual ideas, or to sensations combined with such ideas, an
intellectual structure is necessary. Language is the appro



140                     ESSAYS.
priate instrument for this, and therefore the power of constructing a language, is only given to the intellectual creation.
It will follow, that if there is no inlet by which mixed
modes, that is moral and intellectual ideas can be conveyed to
the brute, that its acquaintance wfth even sensible objects,
must be very limited. For in the mind of a being endowed
with reason, these are more or less combined with those ideas.
It is this very combination which properly makes up our
knowledge of the material world. Without it, all outward objects would be a mere vision or phantasmagoria. A house, a
ship, a piece of coin, or a plow, what an infinite meaning
these have to the human mind, which there is no possible way
of imparting to the brute. When I say, that the perception
of all sensible objects is in the mind of a reasonable being,
constantly combined with intellectual ideas, I do not mean
that they are artificially connected as something foreign, and
that they may be separated the one from the other. The last
class of ideas in a great number of instances, make up the
whole signification of sensible objects. A ship, or a palace,
would not be a ship, and a palace, if they only conveyed sensations to the human being. They would be something having
extension, hardness, figure, &c., and that would be all. Nor
would even the bare properties of extension, hardness, and figure, have any thing like the comprehensive meaning which they
now have. The animal would have the sensation created by
the stone and timber of those structures, but of the compound
ideas, denoted by the names palace and ship, it would not
have the least glimmering.
And this lays open the source of the whole difficulty. The
idea that animals are endowed with reason, is founded in an
abuse of the theory of general, or abstract ideas. It is very
easy to seize resemblances which lay at the surface, but it is
not so easy to discern those differences which lie beneath,
and yet a clear perception of the last, is indispensable to all
legitimate generalization, and consequently to all rational
perception. The resemblance of many things, in some important particulars, is conceived to be a sufficient reason for
binding them together by one general name. This gives unity
to the acts of the understanding, and affords great facility in
discoursing of them, even where the generalization is very




ESSAYS.                       141
imperfect. But we cannot be certain; that the resemblance
is of that fundamental character, which authorizes a general
classification unless we are also apprised of the differing qualities, or properties, which belong to the things we undertake
to call by a general name. When we convert abstract ideas
into real existences, we forget that they are mere helps to the
understanding, in running over the vast multitude of particulars, both in the world within, and the world without; and we
fall into a confusion as fatal, as if those ideas had never been
inv'ented. Memory, judgment, imagination, volition, are general
names, but they are general faculties, unless they pertain to
beings which not only resemble each other, but are radically
alike in their structure. They would not be so, even if the faculties of all the animal creation, including man, were the result of
material organization. For the organization may be inconceivably varied, in different beings, either by the addition of new
faculties, or by the greater elevation, and enlargement of those
already possessed, and thus render one or more classes of the
animal kingdom, more different from others, than either is from
the vegetable creation.  To say that two beings, an ant and
man, or man and a rat, belong to the same genus, because bo;h
have a brain, or because the two orders of tissues, may be
found in both, is the most vicious excess of generalization;
for the brain in one instance, may be endowed with faculties,
which are entirely wanting in the other. The vice consists in
inventing the general name of brain, and then arguing fi'om
the name, instead of the thing. The brute can no more say
to itself, I have sensation, memory, and comparison, and can
therefore find out the meaning of that immense mass of ideas,
which we term  mixed modes, than the human being, because
it has perception, consciousness, reflection, and a world of
ideas derived from these sources, together with the power of
deducing conclusions from premises, can say, I can find out
the nature of God, and the soul. To do either the one or the
other, is impossible; an insurmountable barrier exists to- the
attainment of any such knowlenge. There is this d(ifieience
however, between the two cases, a difference which place;s in
bold relief, the immense disparity between the facultie-s of
these two orders of beings, that the brute has not even the
capacity of figuring to itself, the meaning of the question;




142                      ESSAYS.
for that would imply an act of reflex consciousness; whereas,
the human being is able to advance so far, as to comprehend
the terms of the question. The one, not only cannot find out
the nature of man; it cannot frame to itself, the remotest
conception of the question, what is man, although familiarized
to his presence all its life. The other cannot find out the nature, and attributes of beings in another sphere; but it has
abundant capacity to grasp, and to meditate upon the question,
what are they. This great difference between man, and the
brute creation, seems to result principally, from the possession
by the former, of the faculty of reflex consciousness. This
supreme faculty, so totally distinct from the simple consciousness which attends upon each sensation, discloses to man, the
number, and character of his mental acts, calls into exercise,
a variety of subordinate faculties, which would otherwise lay
dormant, and enables him by an instinctive, and instantaneous
analysis, to separate the subjective, from the objective world
without. It is thus the source of all analysis, and of the
powers of comparing, compounding, and abstracting, in their
genuine signification. This faculty of separating the subjective, from the objective, would alone be sufficient to place
a radical and fundamental difference between the two classes
of beings. A faculty is not an abstract entity, which may be
predicated of all beings, which have the five senses, and some
other very imperfect cerebral developments in common. For
the one may be endowed with the master faculty of reflex
consciousness; the other with a faculty of mere automatic, or
simple consciousness. There is "one kind of flesh of men,
and another of beast." And there is one order of faculties,
belonging to the one, and another to the other. The difference
is one of kind, and not merely of degree. The existence of
the faculty of reflex consciousness, or interior observation,
has lately been questioned by two eminent philosophers,
M. Compte, and Mr. Buckle; and the first has gone so far, as to
affirm, that if it does exist, he does not doubt, but what it is
possessed in even a higher degree by some animals, than it is
by man. The solitude in which the beasts of the forest live,
he remarks, would be particularly favorable to the growth
and exercise of the faculty: as if locality ever created
faculties, and as if a desolate forest were fitted to develope




ESSAYS.                      143
them. It is the infinite complication of the intellectual,'and
moral faculties in society, which exercises them, and which
demands that man above all other beings, should possess this
supreme faculty.  But neither of these acute thinkers have
applied the same masterly analysis to this subject, which they
employ in the investigation of other questions. The remarks
of both are very loose, and those of the first are invariably
tinctured with a strong disposition to battle, right or wrong
against the opinions of his contemporaries, because they are
theirs. Mr. Buckle argues, that as we are conscious of many
things, spectres, and phantoms, &c., which have no existance,
we can place no reliance upon the existence of any such
faculty. The deception however in those cases, as well as in
dreaming, is not attributable to consciousness, but is simply
an error of the judgment. The contradictory convictions of
different individuals, as to their possessing free will, does not
argue the absence of the faculty of consciousness, but the
reverse. They are referable to the judgment which we form
concerning our consciousness: and the correction of the deception in all these instances, proves conclusively the existence
of the faculty. We feel, that whatever we desire to do, (no
physical impediment being in the way,) we actually can do;
and many persons hence infer, that we are free. This is purely
an error of judgment. For the question properly is, as to the
machinery behind the will. If this is not free, the will cannot
be, for it is that which governs the will. If we were to affirm
that there was no sense of right, because some untutored persons, suppose that the sky touches the earth, and who believe
that the stick in the water is crooked, because they see it so,
the deception would be precisely the same as that noticed by
Mr. Buckle; and only indicates an error of judgment, as to
our visual perceptions. To deny the existence of reflex consciousness, as a faculty, would be an abnegation of all our
knowledge; for it is by it alone, that all our perceptions are
converted into knowledge. It bears the same relation to all
our internlal acts, which the senses have to external objects.
We meeditate upon them all our lives, we compare, compound,
and analy ze them, we reason upon them in every shape, and
finally figure to ourselves the being who is the subject of so
much thought. WVe do not therefore see our faculties in




144                     ]ESSAYS.
operation as M. Compte argues we should do, if the faculty
existed: we are not even made acquainted with their nature,
and causes, a defect which exists with regard to all our knowledge of the external, as well as of the internal world. I know
of no eminent metaphysician who claims (as AI. Compte insists they all do) that we actually witness the operations of
our minds, or can by the help of consciousness, find out the
nature, and causes of our-mental operations. All of them
confine, themselves to a history and analysis of mental phenomena. This is what Locke, and Burkely, Reid and Swewart,
Hume and Leibnitz, Brown and Kaut, have done. In other
words they have pursued a course in no respect differing from.
that which physicists have followed in the investigation of
natural phenomena. Occasionally each of these classes of
thinkers overstep the bounds of legitimate reasoning, but the
general method, (even that of Leibnitz,) is the same. The
English and Scotch schools, which comprise the greatest
number of enlightened reasoners, have even been reproached
for confining themselves to the patient, and modest procedure
of the inductive philosophy. Writers on mental philosophy
do not say, as M. Compte insists, that we can see ourselves
think; but they do affirm that we do think, and of all our
mental operations, that we can analyze, and describe them,
and that without the faculty of reflex consciousness, we should
be unable to do so. M. Compte's idea, that consciousness is
nothing more than the equilibrium of the faculties, is unintelligible. The equilibrium of the faculties may contribute to
the fair and healthy of the faculty, as it does to all our mental
acts, but it cannot constitute the faculty; for that would be a
resort to the antiquated doctrine of entities.  This author
further says, that if the doctrine of consciousness were well
founded, an interdict would be laid upon the study of animals.
The reverse is the case. In consequence of the analogy, however imperfect, between their structure, and that of man, we
are enabled by a hypothetical transference to them of the
phenomena, of which we are conscious, to form some rational
conjecture concerning their state of being.  This process
joined to our observation of their actions, affords us all the
knowledge we can have. And it is because they are destitute
of this prime faculty, that they can form no idea of our state




ESSAYS.                     145
of being, and that our knowledge of them  is as imperfect
as it is.
The nature of a faculty, depends upon the structure or constitution of the being of whom it is affirmed. When this is
widely and fundamentally different, the faculties will be essentially different, whatever may be the resemblance of functions. Thus although I have spoken of perception, memory,
comparison, as belonging to brutes; I have done so only, becouse no terms have been invented to characterize, and mark
out their distinctive faculties. I do not suppose, that they
have those faculties in any thiing like the same state, in which
they are found in man. A horse has a sensation of the grain,
with which it is fed, of the stall where it is confined, of the
groom who attends it. These sensations continue, as all sensations do, after the objects which awakened them, are withdrawn: for sensation depends not only upon the outward organs which convey them, but upon the interior structure of
the brain.  When the horse is again brought to his stall,
and sees his oats, and the groom who fed him, we say he
recollects them. We attribute to him the general faculty of
memory, although his memory is nothing more than a modifi.
cation of his perceptions, and these perceptions, are totally
different from those of human beings, or even of other beings.
in the animal kingdom. For he can no more recollect the ten
thousand different actions of human beings, which have been ex —
exhibited before him, than man can recollect the actions of angels, whom he has never seen. These actions in both instances,
are as if they were not. But the most ignorant man recollects
a great multitude of actions, which have been presented to him,
as well as to the brute, because he has the capacity of framing
the compnlex ideas, which make up the whole meaning of those
actions; and because his memory is also a mere modification,
a continued exercise of his distinctive faculties.
The same may be said of the power of ratiscination. There
is a resemblance, but not an identity of the faculties of men.
and brutes in this respect. I observed my horse yesterday,
get his foot in the rein of the bridle. He remained so for half
anh our, evidently very much incommoded. I went out, lifted
his foot, and relieved him. There is no being of the least
glimmering of understanding, who placed in the same circum10




146                       ESSAYS.
stances, would not have been able to put together the two or
three simple ideas thrust upon him, and have instantly extricated himself. But the difference between such a being, and
a horse, is that the former has ideas, and the latter only sensations. Ideas, the product of our intellectual structure,
create a bond of union between sensations: without them, the
sensations would be without order, connection, or meaning.
The power of ratiscination, depends upon the faculty of reflex consciousness; for it is this which enables man to spell
phenomena, and to give signification to the vast diversity
of sensations, of which he is the subject.
The same reasoning is applicable to volition. The actions
of brutes seem to be guided by volition. They do what they
have a propension to do. But the possession of reflex consciousness by man, makes a wonderful addition to this machinery, and transforms volition into a very different faculty,
X'rom what it is found to be in brutes. He does not instantly;go forward to do every thing which his appetites, and sensations, would impel him to do; for he has a vast store of ideas,
proper to himself, which modify all his appetites, and desires,
and exercise a perpetual control over his behaviour. Hence
*the power of reflecting upon the nature, and consequences of
his actions, so visible in the man of the humblest capacity,.and so entirely foreign to the structure of the animal. In
man, volition is an active, in the brute, a passive faculty.
rThe activity in the one case, is the result of a fundamental
difference in the constitution of the being to whom it belongs.
-cor would it make the least difference, whether the actions of,men, were determined by as absolute necessity as those of
animals. This necessity is the result of the form, and indissoluble connection between cause and effect; but it does not.explain the nature of the cause in any instance. The connection between cause and effect, is seen in the fall of a stone, in
the rush of an animal to seize its prey, in the determination
of a human being, to do a certain action, or to mark out for
himself a certain system of conduct. The cause is entirely
different in these instances, and the effect is therefore very
different in each. They only agree in one respect; the unalterable connection in all between cause and effect: and yet
"this one thing, which sheds no light upon the nature of the




ESSAYS.                      147
being of whom it is affirmed, is sometimes deemed sufficient
to exalt the two last in the same scale. For the stone, having
neither sensations, nor the secondary faculties engendered by
sensations, saves it from being ranked in the same category.
One of the greatest problems in mental philosophy is this:
what is the precise addition made to the knowledge of a human being, by the faculties, and ideas, which are engendered,
or disclosed by reflex consciousness, over and above that
which is conveyed by the senses alone. The categories of
Aristotle, and Kanut, are an attempt to solve this problem.
When it is solved, we shall be able to see with the same clearnest, as we do the truth of a mathematical proposition, the
amazing difference between the faculties of men, and brutes.
Nor will it make the least difference, whether the categories,
that is the reduction of all our knowledge to a few simple
elements, are a priori ideas, stamped upon the mind.at birth,
as is held by the German philosopher, or as is most probable,
ideas framed by the mind, after its faculties are developed.
The result will be the same; to wit: the ascertaining the exact boundry between our intellectual, and sensual knowledge.
Dr. Rleid has observed, that if we were able to dive into the
workings of the mind of a child, we should know more, than
all our speculations afford us, of the structure of the human
mind: and if we could discover the operations going on ill -
the sensorium of a brute, a still stronger flood of light, would
be shed upon that structure. The knowledge would be of a
negative kind, but it would not be less valuable on that account. It would effect a complete separation, between those
faculties, and ideas, which are dependant on the senses, and
those which are the product of our intellectual operations
alone, or of both combined.
lBrutes have one faculty, which has been very sparingly attributed to man, the marvelous power of instinct. If it shall
ever be demonstrated, that some human beings have the faculty
of clairvoyance, this distinction between these two orders of
beings, will be in part obliterated. The distinction between
reason, and instinct is this; the latter goes to its end, seizes
the conclusion of a complicated proposition, or of a whole
series of such propositions, without the employment of any
intermediate process, without the faintest conception of any




148                      ESSAYS.
such process. Reason arrives at the conclusion, by the aid of
this very process. The officers on one of the expeditions,
which went in search of Sir John Franklin, took from Scotland some pigeons, which they set loose at the distance of
twenty-four hundred miles. They made their way back to
the identical dove cote from which they were taken. The alnmost incredibly short time, in which they traversed this distance, renders it certain, that they followed a direct course.
A human being, with the aid of ever so much previous knowledge, could not have attained the same end, without a number
of minute, and intricate calculations, all of them the result of
an intellectual process, and which the pigeon has not the least
capacity, even to conceive of. If human beings are ever endowed with the faculty of clairvoyance; that is with the
power of reading the inmost thoughts of others, and leaping
over all the conditions of space, and time, in order to predict
future, or distant events, a remarkable resemblance in one
particular, will be established, between the structure of men,
and animials. But it will leave the difference between them,
as great as it was before, so far as regards reason and understanding. They will possess an amazing faculty in common;
amazing, because it seems to rise above reason and yet sinks
immeasurably below it. It does what reason is totally incompetent to do; and yet it is a faculty which is said to be possessed in the greatest perfection, not only by human beings of
the meanest capacity, but in some instances by those who are
nearly idiotic. The relations of Astley Cooper, and other
eminent surgeons, have disclosed some startling facts on this
subject, facts which prove, that the most grievous injuries to
the brain, at the same time that they entirely obliterate a
great part of the knowledge previously acquired, have in some
instances, revived other knowledge, which for years had been
erased from the mind. Whether clairvoyance is the result of
disease, or original mal-structure, is unimportant. If the
faculty is established, it at least exists, independently of our
intellectual faculties proper. It stands alone in the history of
men, and baffles all human scrutiny, as much as the phenomena of instinct.
The school of materialists contend, that the faculties of
men, and animals, are the same in kind, because these facul



ESSAYs.                      149
ties in both, are the result of a mere modification of matter.
The more modern school, with Gall as its founder and interpreter, are more precise in their views; and insist that they
are the same in kind, where the two races have a cerebral apparatus in common. But this inference, would not therefore
be just; for if the cerebral apparatus in one, contains faculties,
and those of the highest order, which are entirely wanting in
the other, they cannot be the same in kind, but must be regarded as different in degree.
ESSAY II.
NATURE OF THE ~WILL.
Great difficulties have been suggested, concerning the nature
of the will, and especially with regard to the necessity of its
determinations. But in truth the difficulty lies on the other
side. It is inconceivable how the will should be free; but it
is easily conceived, why it should be necessary: nor can any
ingenuity, which it is in the power of the most subtle genius
to devise, reverse these two propositions. The acts of the
will must depend upon the frame, nature, or constitution of
the mind; and that frame, or constitution, is not the work of
our hands. To render the will free, that;workmanship must
be the result of our volitions, whereas our volitions are, and
necessarily must be, the result of that workmanship. The
frame, or constitution of our mental, and defective nature,
mould the will, instead of the will moulding them. This is
rigorously true, alth'ough all our volitions, and actions, should
be the joint product of the mind, and outward causes. For
the influence of the last, depends upon the frame, structure,
or constitution of the mind. The subjective part of our nature,
modifies all that is objective. The objective is seen, felt, and
apprehended to be, precisely what the subjective makes it to be.




150                      ESSAYS.
Nor is this conclusion weakened, whether the mind is the
result of an immaterial principle, or of our material organization. The same consequences follow. In either case, there
must be a certain frame, or constitution of mind, absolutely
beyond our control, and imposing fixed laws upon our volitions: beyond our control, not only, because it is in no sense,
our workmanship; but because we have no knowledge whatever of its nature, or of the hidden causes which make it to
be what it is: imposing fixed laws upon our volitions, because
those laws are the inevitable consequence of that nature, and
forbid the volitions to be other than they are.
Nor will it vary the conclusion, whether the will is the result
of the last act of the understanding, or of the last act of particular propensions, or of both combined. It cannot be free
in the first case, because freedom cannot be affirmed of the
understanding: nor free in the selond, because those propensions, being also anterior to volition, are governed by laws
which are independent of the volition; nor in the third, because the combination of two necessary causes cannot make
freedom. Mr. Locke says the will is necessary, but the man
is free; a distinction, which if by any possibility, it could be
true, would undoubtedly reconcile freedom  with necessity.
But the distinction is not only without foundation, it is inconceivable that it should have any. By the man, as contra-distinguished from his will, must be meant, all that part of our
nature, mental, and effective, which lies behind the will.
But this, as I before remarked, is not only, not our workmanship, but it is so absolutely impenetrable to us, as to be placed
beyond our control. We may by the use of a solecism, construct a plausible argument. We may say, a man may by the
use of drink, or in many other ways, alter the character, and
even texture of his understanding. But all these acts would
themselves be the result of his understanding, mere manifestations of his nature, at the time he acted. If the will is necessary, because it is determined by the understanding, much
more must the acts of the understanding be necessary, because its structure was commenced, when we were as if we
were not, and continues to grow from causes foreign to our con.
trol. Nothing but a vicious reasoning in a circle, the confounding
acts of the understanding, with something independent of the




ESSAYS.                      151
understanding, and calling that the will, can fail to make this
view seen, to be rigorously true. To suppose that the man,
or his mind was free, would be to suppose, that the constitution of the mind was determined by the will, while at the same
time, the willis determined by the mind. Upon the machin.
ery which lies behind particular acts of volition, the whole
question of freedom, and necessity depends; and yet these
two things are perpetually confounded. The question forever
has been; is the will free: but if the question were, is the
understanding free, the difficulty would be removed: the last
question comprehends the first, and a clear answer might be
given to it. For it is plain, that if the understanding, (mean.
ing by understanding, the whole of our mental, and moral
nature,) be not free, its thoughts, or acts, cannot be, anud every
mode of argument, to prove either the man, or the will to be
so, will fall to the ground. The expression, freedom of the
understanding, would instantly be rejected, as a perversion of
thought. Freedom seems to be predicable of the will alone:
and therefore Mr. Locke uses the ambiguous term man. But
if the understanding, and the will make up the man, and
neither are free, the man cannot be so. No ambiguity of
language can elicit a-truth; but it may confuse the question,
and disable the writer from applying a rigorous analysis to to the
subject of which he is treating.
That we believe ourselves to be free, is nothing. The question is, not what we believe, but what is the matter of fact;
two things, which are constantly placed in contradictionl to
one another. We cannot prevent ourselves fromn seeing the
moon longer in the horizon, than in the zenith; nor from seeing a stick crooked in the water. The firmest nbicessity of our
volitions, and actions, is not only consistent with the belief
that they are free; but nothing is mnore clearly demonstrable,
than that on the supposition, they are necessary, we cannot
believe them to be so. For whatever we will, (there being no
physical impediment in the way) that we execute. We believe that to be free, consists in the ability to do what we desire to do. But if the understanding, appetites, propensions,
which lie behind the will, are governed by laws independent
of our control; and if the operation of these laws, is entirely
hidden from our scrutiny, we cannot be otherwise than convinced of our freedom. Doubtless, there are a few minds




1-52                     ESSAYS.
which are able to make an approach towards unraveling the
knot, and separating the matter of fact from the instinctive
belief. They who have studied closely the characters of
others, and have repeatedly witnessed the connection between
a certain mould of character, and the actions which take
place, are led invariably to a conviction of the necessity of
those actions. They are unable to dissect the mind; but their
observation, and power of analysis, go far enough to satisfy
them, that all human volitions, and actions, are governed by
immutable laws. If an individual should say; I can abandon
a certain habit, and pursue a totally different conduct; and if
he actually does so, they do not therefore conclude that he is
free, in the sense in which he understands freedom: they still
see the operation of certain invariable laws. For what caused
the individual to perceive a different course of life to be eligible: not a volition; for volition comes after, and is the result
of the perception, and conviction that it is right, and this perception, and conviction, are acts of the understanding, to which
the most untutored mind never ascribes freedom. So far as the
connection between cause and effect is concerned, there is no
difference between the actions of men and of animals. There is
an indissoluble connection in both instances, between the frame,
constitution or character of the being, and the acts which take
place. But there is a difference in the constitution, or character in the two instances. The difference consists in this,
that to man is given the faculty of reflex consciousness, and
the subordinate faculties which spring from it. This constitutes a vast addition to the senses, appetites, and propensities,
which belong to animals. This enables him to reflect upon,
andl to comprehend the nature, and consequences of his actions,
and therefore to act in a manner entirely different from brutes.
But it is not necessary, that these additional faculties should
be endowed with freedom, in order to produce this effect.
His nature is different, and his actions which are only manifestations of that nature, are necessarily different, His actions
have one spring or mobile, which theirs have not; and this
circumstance stamps upon his volitions, and actions, a character, which it would be impossible to communicate to the
brutes. It may be imagined, that this makes man a mere
machine: and if by machine, is meant a firm, and indissoluble
connection, between the nature of a being, and the visible




ESSAYS.                       153
manifestations of that nature, there is no doubt, that man is
a machine. For his actions depend upon his nature, as completely as the actions of animals, and the phenomena of plants,
depend upon their nature. If this connection did not exist in
his case, he would cease to be -man; for of what advantage
would his intellectual structure be, if he could invariably act
like a plant, or an animal.
Nor is there any foundation for the notion, that the criminality which is attached to certain actions, and the sense of
remorse consequent upon the doing them, imply that the will
is flee. It faculty is not free, but is determined by the strictest necessity, there must nevertheless be the greatest difference imaginable, between different kinds of actions. Those
which afftected the well being and happiness of others, would
be stamped with a feeling of approbation, or disapprobation,
which would not be attached to such as were harmless. The
firmest conviction, that our volitions were necessary, could
not alter their nature. The distinction between vice, and virtne, would be as strong as it is now. This arises from two
circumstances, which are entirely independent of the question,
whether our actions are free. 1st. A very great part of the
injury ~done us by others, consists in the fact, that they are
themselves conscious of the injury done, and that they intend
to act as they do. Nothing of this kind, belongs to the character of brutes, nor to that of an idiot, any more than to the
lightninJg which consumes our buildings. In these cases, the
iljiry is unaccompanied with any consciousuess of what is
done, of any perception of the nature, and consequences of
the act, or with a formed, and deliberate intention of doing
it. It is evident, that this places a wide difference between
the two classes of actions; and that it is impossible for a being who is endowed with understanding, not to denote it by
telrms which denote its existence. The difficulty with regard
to remorse, admits of a very easy explanation. It is impossiblet for a beinig whose volitions are ever so necessary, and who
yet believes himself to be free, not to have this feeling, when
he has deeply injured acother. And I have already explained,
how it is, thatt the belief that we are free, is not onily consistent
with the absolute necessity of our actions, but is indissolubly
connlected with it, in every being who is not the architect of
his own nature; and of such a being we cannot form even a




154                      ESSAYS.
conception. Remorse grows out of a conflict of opposite feelings, and the ultimate predominance of one of them. Human
beings are endowed with the most contrary feelings, andl propen sities. A sudden fit of passion, or any other cause which
clouds the judgment, and hardens the sensibility, may impel
to the commision of the most heinous offences; but the powver
of reflex consciousness which is as much a part of the nature
of such a being, as his feeling, is naturally, and necessarily
awakened, and where this is the case, it is as impossible for
him not to have the feeling of remorse, as it was not to have
the passion of revenge, in the first instance. There is really
no difficulty about this matter. These conflicting faculties or
feelings, constitute his nature: and to be insensible to remorse,
would be contrary to, instead of in conformity with that nature.  it is not necessary then to attribute freedom to the will,
in order to account for the sense of criminality, and the remorse attendant upon it. 2d. The final course of this constitution of our nature, makes it still clearer, why this great distinction should exist; and at the same time, reconciles all our
notions of responsibility, with the firmest, and most absolute
necessity of our volitions. I have observed, that the distinguishing difference between man, and animals, is that the fore
mer is Lendowed with understanding, that he possesses that
reflex faculty, which makes him acquainted with the nature,
and consequences of his actions. By this mneans, we are put
in possession of an instrument, by which we can influence his
actions, by which we can mould them, and make them different
from what they otherwise would be; by which even the disposition, and character, from which those actions flow, may be
changed. For if men may by the operation of certain causes,
be rendered necessarily vicious, they may through the operation of other causes, be rendered necessarily virtuous: that is,
if a certain train of circumstances, is calculated to awaken a
bad disposition, a different train, will be a~ certainly calculated
to awaken a good one. The child if left to itself, would be an
annoyance to every one around it. As its faculties mature, it
begins to have an insight into the consequences of its actions,
then a perception of their nature, and finally of the propriety,
and rectitude, of observing a certain behaviour. But the beings who have the care of it, are also endowed with underng, which enables them to employ a certain discipline,




ESSAYS.                      155
in order to quicken, and fortify, all the undeveloped good dispositions of the child, and. to repress those which are of an
opposite character. But it is not necessary to suppose, the
will to have a self-determining power, nor to imagine the existence of freedom, in any sense in which it is understood. If
the child is an idiot, all discipline and education will be in
vain: if it approaches to idiocy, these means will be very
feeble in their operation. If there is nothing of this kind, but
the child is simply of weak understanding, they will not be so
feeble; but they will not be as effectual, as if it had a bright,
and intelligent mind. If it has this, and yet has some bad
propensities in excess, it will be a work of infinite difficulty,
perhaps impossible, to counteract them, and to give reason
the preponderance. So far, every thing proceeds by a train of
cause and effect, which are indissolubly united, and which
produce a favorable influence, whenever it is produced, in
consequence of this firm necessity, and not in consequence of
a self-determining power. Every human being is made up of
good, and bad qualities in the germ. The great object to be
achieved, in their education, is to apply all external influences,
which are of a favorable character, and to withdraw those
which are the reverse. In this way, the good qualities are
awakened, and the bad repressed. The opening qualities of
the child, makes it gradually acquainted with the nature, and
consequences of its actions. If to fire a gun at a man, and
kill him; if to take his money, will injure him, I will abstain
from doing either. If my parents tell me that certain other
actions are wrong, I will avoid them also; because although I
do not comprehend their nature, I comprehend my relation to
my parents, and I have confidence in what they tell me. It
will be observed then, that the operations of the understanding, as it ripens, may alter materially all our actions; and if
so, a radical change may also be effected in the disposition,
and character. It will follow also, that if the discipline which
is employed in developing the faculties of children, may have
this effect, actual punishment may have the same: for it acts
precisely on the same principle. Both contribute to rouse
faculties which are dormant, to awaken reflection, and to
apply a powerful incentive from within to all our actions. If
the moral, and mental faculties, are wanting, as in brutes, we




156                     ESSAYS.
may to some extent, alter outward actions: if the propensities
are very strong, all means will be feeble; if they are in enormous excess, they will be fruitless. It is not true therefore,
that if all human volitions are necessary, men should never
be punished: for punishment is but a part of the great chain
of cause and effect, which runs through all our actions. If
the acts of the understanding are necessary, and if the volitions consequent upon them are necessary, discipline, education,
punishment, must also operate by fixed laws. For they must
all be worked into the character, in order to have an influence:
they must become purely subjective, and cease to be objective.
To say that actions are necessary, is not saying, that by a sort
of fatality, they will be precisely the same under all circumstances: for this would be to cut asunder the bond which connects cause and effect: it would be to say, that whatever may
be the cause, the effect will invariably be the same: whereas,
the doctrine of necessity implies, that the effect is invariably
connected with its cause; and therefore, that if we vary the
cause, the effect will also be varied. Of what avail would all
outward influences be, if the beings to whom they are applied,
had no perception, or consciousness of them. This perception,
and consciousness are themselves acts of the understanding.
The effect therefore is simply to add one more link, but a most
important one, to the chain of cause and effect. Many who
admit the propriety of discipline, and education, notwithstanding, find great difficulty in justifying the propriety of
punishment. Why punish those who could not do otherwise.
It is the ambiguity of language, which produces the deception. Punishment is itself a species of discipline; and all
education, and discipline, operate to a very great extent, as
punishments. They all operate, by quickening the sense of
right and wrong, and rousing the understanding  to a full
comprehension of the nature and consequences of our actions.
Punishment therefore may have, not in every particular instance, but in the average of human- actions, a powerful influence in determining conduct. That it should not in every
instance, have this effect, is no more an objection to it, than
to any other species of discipline; such as advice, example,
education; for all these fail equally in numberless instances.
It is enough if they are all adapted to an end, and that end is




EssAYs.                      157
very often attained. This adaptedness is all that is wanting,
in order to guide our judgment, as long as our faculties are
too imperfect to reveal to us the minute springs of human
action. Our acquaintance with the minds of others is exceedingly limited, not because they make use of dissimulation:
that would not prevent us from piercing the veil; but because
the subject is placed beyond our reach. There is the same
difficulty in studying our own minds. Their operations are
only manifested to us by consciousness, as the material world
is made known to us by the senses. Our faculties are totally
unable to fathom the structure, and complicated machinery of
the understanding; and our senses are incompetent to unfold
the hidden properties of matter. But from what we do know,
we may reason with the highest degree of probability. Although we cannot unravel the tie which connects cause and
effect; we are acquainted with the fact, that the one follows
the other. Punishment is therefore justified, if it is adapted
to produce a certain effect, and if in the great majority of instances, it does actually produce it. IBut it is justified, even if
we did not know that it exerts a favorable influence upon
those who are the immediate subjects of it. For firet, where
an individual is guilty of a crime, the crime is productive of
great injury to others. The injury is in effect, a punishment
inflicted upon them. What reason then, can be assigned,
why those who have committed no offence, should be punished,
and those who have inflicted it, should escape. One or the
other must be injured, that is puDisbed; and the least reflection is sufficient to show, that it should fall on the last. This
is another instance of the deception produced by the ambiguity of language, or by our own confused ideas. The moment we consider the injury first inflicted, as substantially the
same with that which follows it, and call both either punishment, or injury, the ambiguity disappears, and the reason,
why the man who has committed murder, or some other crime,
should be made to suffer for it, appears in its full force. Society by this means, is protected from further injury by him;
and what is of infinitely more consequence, great numbers of
others, are forever deterred from the commission of similar offenses. For, secon(l, the impunity of a few, cannot be placed
in the scale against the safety of society. This is true, even




158                     wESSAYS.
if the punishment of criminals, did not exert a powerful influence upon others, and reduce the number of injuries to a
comparatively small number. Third, it is evident, that if all
injurious actions are innocent, and should not be punished,
because the volitions from which they spring, are necessary,
the punishment must also be innocent, and exposed to no censure, because it must equally spring from volitions which are
necessary.
Those who will admit the validity of this reasoning, may
still insist upon a very grave objection to one species of punishment. I allude to that inflicted in a future world. They
will argue, that in no way, can a punishment endless in duration, be reconciled with the attributes of the Deity, unless
men are free. It is unnecessary for me to say, that on this
question, great diversity of opinion exists, and that some of
the most illustrious theologians have taught, that the New
Testament does not authorize us to believe in the endless
duration of punishment: There are two considerations which
remove the objection. 1st. When we undertake to reason
about the conduct of a being so infinitely removed from us,
and of whose scheme of government, we necessarily have the
most imperfect conception, we wander beyond the sphere of
our own faculties, and confound the knowable, with the unknowable. 2d. If men are free agents, the difficulty is not
removed. For there is no possible way, in which to our apprehension, (and if we will undertake to reason upon such subjects,) infinite punishment can be accounted for. The disproportion between the crimes of so fleeting a creature as man,
and such a punishment, is itself infinite. The difficulty does
not grow out of the question, whether we are free or not: it
arises from the nature of the punishment. Although there
should be a difference, between a punishment, inflicted upon
a being who was free, and one whose volitions are governed
by necessary laws, the difference would be infinitely small,
instead of infinitely great, and the argument in both instances,
stands forth with a force, which no ingenuity can overcome.
If one more pebble were added to our world, it would not be
correct to say, that this made it another world.
There is another view of this subject, which is entirely new,
and I believe entitled to great attention. Speculative opinions,




ESSAYS.                       159
it has been frequently remarked, exercise very little influence
in  practice: and this is true. They exercise very little, in
their character of speculative opinions, because the great imajority of men are unable to generalize, and a speculative
opinion itmplies a deduction from facts. But such opinions
are found in the germ  in almost all individuals; and the influence which they exert is not always in proportion to the
degree of' their developement. No one can have been inattentire to the efforts, which have been made during the last
half century, towards the amileoration of the crimuinal code.
There is a strong disposition, among the most civilized nations
of the present day, to dispense with capital punishmlent,, and
with those minor punishments, which are revolting, alend degradilng; in the extreme. And accordingly, transportation,
or conlfintleinent in a penitentiary, have been substituted in
great numbers of instances. This is ascribed in a vague imanner, to a principle of benevolence: for as I have observed,
speculative opinions in the bulk of mankind are onlv half
formed, not matured; and the majority of men in highly
civilized countries, determine public opinion, and give shape
to the laws. A principle of benevolence has very much to
do with the reformation of the criminal law. But the material,
and the most interesting inquiry is, what is the cause of this
humane feeling, which distinguishes the people of the present
day. The great mass of mankind are unable to analyze their
ideas, and to give an account to themselves of the reason of
many things, the propriety of which they notwithstanding
feel. This great change then, denotes nothing more or less,
than a secret, half developed belief; that freedom in the sense
in which it is generally understood, is not an attribute of human actions: and the adoption of mild, in the place of cruel
punishment, is the fair expression of this belief. Two things
are placed in opposition to each other; on one side, the safety
of the community, the welfare of all who are not disposed to
commit crime; on the other, the fixed laws by which human
volitions are governed. The punishment of those who inflict
injury upon others, cannot be dispensed with, because to do so
would be to visit innumerable punishments upon those who do
not transgress. But a reconciliation may be effected between
be these two seemingly incompatible things. Punishments may




160                      ESSAYS.
rendered more mild, and the safety of the community, be even
better guarded: a recognition will be made, of the great principle of the necessity of all human actions; and yet a scheme
of discipline be established, which taking advantage of that
same law of necessity, will produce a change in the character
of offenders, and of great multitudes of others, who would
otherwise have offended in a similar manner. The alteration
in the laws is most striking, in those countries, which are most
distinguished for intelligence; a strong proof how exactly
the influence of opinions upon practice is proportioned to
development of the understanding. In communities, where
the manners are brutal, men are engrossed with their own
sufferings, and only meditate revenge upon those who have
injured them: in others, which have attained a certain degree
of civility, and. where consequently the power of reflection is
more or less awakened among the masses, the case of the
criminal, is also thought of; and by degrees, a vague, half defined feeling, is observed to pervade the community, that cruel
punishments are not justifiable; not because they are unnecessary; for this is learned afterwards, but because they are not
in conformity with the laws of our being.
If the system  of punishment, is still very imperfect; it
arises from the exceeding imperfection of the beings who are
entrusted with framing it. If -those who do not commit any
positive offences, were more highly elevated in the scale of
rational beings, the difficulty of dealing with the vicious,
would not be near as great as they are. It is not necessary
the first should be perfect, in order to attain this: it is only
necessary that they should be a much more wise, and virtuo us,
than the present generation, than this is wiser, and more virtuous, than the generation of two or three centuries ago.
Those who do not commit crimes, are nevertheless subject to
all sorts of infirmities, and evil dispositions. The elements of
character of the homicide, and the robber, are to be found in
all men. The innocent are themselves never free from blame.
Their defects of one kind or other, obscure their vision, and
prevent them from concurring heartily and sincerely, in the establishment of any more perfect system. I can easily conceive, that a race of beings might exist, so powerful, because
so virtuous, that they would neither be unable, nor afraid, to




ESSAYS.                       161
devise a scheme greatly superior to that which the most enlightened nation has adopted. The authority, and influence,
which individuals exercise, not merely as framers of the laws,
but in numberless other ways, auxiliary to the laws, depend
very much upon their virtue, and intelligence. Perfectibility
is a sublime chimera; but there is nothing to prevent great
progress from being made; and there are very probable reasons for believing, that it will take place. When it does,
difficulties both in speculation, and practice, which now appear
formidable, will in a great measure disappear.
I return from what will not be regarded as a digression: for the
preceding view shows clearly, that the most abstract speculations, have a direct relation to the practical interests of society; and it is only because among the great bulk of mankind,
they are not reduced to general principles, that their operation
eludes our notice.
I have not noticed the grand distinction of our faculties,
into intellectual, and affective. It remains to be seen, whether
this alters in any manner, the character of absolute necessity,
which I have attributed to the will. By the intellect, or
power of reflex consciousness, we cognise, or are made acquainted with the phenomena, of both the internal and external world: and by the affective part of our nature, we are
endowed with the faculty of feeling, or sentiment. The two
however act, the one upon the other, and each is modified by
the influence thus exerted. The understanding only perceives,
our affective part only feels. The first receives ideas from the
last, but the last receives none from the first. This capacity
of the understanding, to receive ideas from  another faculty,
which is itself blind, enables it to control the last, and renders,
our actions rational, instead of sensual. The understanding
takes notice of, is conscious of all the feelings which the appetites, propensities, and affections engender. It alone is,
able to ponder, and deliberate upon the nature, and tendencies of the last; and it thus becomes one of the most power-.
ful agents in moving, and determining the affective part of
our nature. It is a new spring applied to the feelin gs, and
rouses or represses them, with as much effect, as the presence
of outward objects. It is remarkable that the faculty of volition, is universally ascribed to the affective part of our na-.
11




162                      ESSAYS.
ture, which as I before remarked, is blind, and has only a
capacity of feeling. But freedom cannot be affirmed of the
feelings, disunited from the understanding; for they are impelled spontaneously, and go straight forward to their gratification. This is the case with brutes, to whom freedom can
in no sense be ascribed. For first, the feelings are in all beings the result of a certain constitution of their nature, of
which they have no knowledge. Second, the feelings receiving
no icdeas, are incapable of weighing, and deliberating upon
motives; though one feeling may come in collision with another. And it is equally clear, as I have already shown, that
freedom cannot be affirmed of the intellect, for although it is
-the receptacle of ideas, it is not the creator of them; it is:governed by immutable laws, of which the act of weighing,,or deliberating, is itself a manifestation. Volition is then a,compound faculty, the joint product of the understanding,:an1d. feelings. But the combination of two fac;ulties, each of
wvhich is governed by fixed laws, cannot give birth to a third,'which is deprived of the same attribute of necessity. The:addition of intellect to man, over and above those sentient
faculties which are common to brutes, is what enables him to
deliberate upon the preferableness of certain actions; and
yet, the faculty of will is constantly referred to the affective,
not to the,intellectual part of our nature. As volition is:active in its effetcts, and the understanding is regarded as
passive, the whole activity of our beintg is attributed to the
first. But all human volitions are made up of the acts of the,understanlding, the feelitngs, and the acts done. There is no
intermediate faculty between the two first, and the last. The
action follows implicitly, in consequence of a connection, im
-penetrable to us, between the nerves of motion, and the nerves
which a're subservient to thought, and feeling.  If such a
Xfiaculty (lid exist, it would not vary the question. It would be,the instrument of other faculties, which would go before it,
anld would be goverlied by the most rigorous necessity. A
volition, an action, therefore obey the joint dictate of the un-.dersta(nding, and impulse of the feelings, by a preordained
ai rat ng'ement of our nature, which renders the interposition of
t.*1  l hird faculty superfluous. The brutes go straight forward;to the gratification of tI]eir appetites, without the employment




ESSAYS.                      1-63
of any higher faculty. Man has understanding, which enables,
and obliges him to take cognizance of the feeling which
would otherwise prompt him spontaneously, and irresistibly
to action. These feelings are thus powerfully influenced.
They no longer go blindly to their gratification, but are repressed, and controlled by the deliberation of the understanding, upon the nature, and consequences of these feelings.
The moment however, that we talk of deliberation, a faculty
of free will is supposed to exist. But deliberating, is only
thinking, pondering, purely intellectual acts, and therefore
governed, and directed, by the same fixed laws which govern
the understanding, and which, (not any self determining
power,) cause human beings to differ essentially from the animal creation.
A very important distinction has been noticed by metaphysical writers, between will and desire. We desire to do
one thing, and yet will to (lo another. This appears to be
contradictory, and the difficulty has been resolved by saying,
that although we do frequently desire to do many things, and
yet will to do others, the will to do is in all cases combined
with desire, and that it is because the desire in the last instance, is the p)redominant one, that it prevails, and governs
our actions. And this is undoubtedly true. Mlan, being endowed with such a diversity of feelings, it would be remarkable, if they did not friequently cross each other. And yet, if
they do cross each other, that is are incompatible, one must
prevail, in order to give birth to any action. But there are
many things in this part of the constitution of our nature,
which deserve a more attentive consideration, than they have
received(. All our propensions have, properly speaking, a will
of their own, and that which is strongest, has a tendency to
prevail.  But in addition to these propensions, man has a
knowing faculty, which takes notice of them, which is conscious of, and reflects upon the propriety, or impropriety of
each of them. In this way, a new influence is exerted upon
the appetites, and passions; a new spring is added to them,
which tends to make thern run in a contrary direction.  I
have used the words tend, and tenidency with design, for as
the understanding is endoweld with intelligence, this may be
raised so high, that although the propensities run very high,




164                     ESSAYSe
the understanding may arrest, and control them: or the intelligence may be depressed so low, that the understanding is
unable to restrain, or balance them. The case of a being of
exalted intelligence, and one of very feeble intellect, illustrate
the two suppositions. There is a third case; that of a being
of good understanding, in whom the propensities are overbearing. The understanding has a tendency to check them,
but it may not always succeed. There are degrees of even
good understanding, and there are different degrees of strength
belonging to the propensities. In all these instances, we discern the operation of certain fixed laws. In some, the unders
standing guides the being, and renders his character elevated:
in others it fails to have an effectual influence, or any influence
at all; and the propensities gain the ascendancy: in others,
it exerts a weak, or irregular influence, and the character of
the man partakes of every variety. In the second case, each
propensity has a volition of its own, and the actions which
take place, are only determined by the collision of these propensities; by the greater force which one has over the others.
There is no superintending control of the understanding: the
will of the being almost ceases to be a compound faculty,
made up of the joint act of the understanding, and affective
faculties. It is appended to the last alone. They who deny,
that any case can be supposed, where a being endowed with
understanding, is unable to control his propensities, is bound
to show, that although there may be every degree of understanding, this can never be depressed so low, as to lose its
control. They are also bound to show, that although there
are different degrees of strength belonging to the appetites
and propensities, these can never be raised so high, as to acquire
a complete ascendancy. It is consistent with the supposition,
that there are degrees; and the supposition is plain matter of
fact. The moment we admit, that there are degrees of understanding, or that the propensities may have different degrees of
strength, we admit, that the first may be sunk so low, or the
last raised so high, as to convert the man into a sensual being.
I cannot help noticing a remarkable phenomenon, one of
frequent observation, which appears in the human character.
It is by no means uncommon to find persons, who have a just,
and even fine taste for poetry, eloquence, or the fine arts, who




ESSAYS.                      165
notwithstanding, have not the power of executing anything
in this way. So individuals may have the most sagacious discernment of the merits of a profound philosophical work, or
a finely written history, and yet be unable to compose any
thing comparable to either. To what is this apparent anomaly to be attributed. How is it, that the power to do, is not
necessarily linked with the desire to do. We call the first
genius, or intellectual power, and the last taste, or judgement.
But giving a name to a phenomenon, does not reveal its nature, or advance us a single step in its analysis. Researches
in physiology, are probably destined to shed great light upon
soime of the secret springs of our nature. The metaphysician
at present recoils from such investigations, not because they
present dangerous ground, but because they seem to lower
the dignity of his science. But whenever these researches are
thoroughly prosecuted, they will unfold so many truths, and
place in a new light, so many phenomena, now imperfectly
understood, that they will quickly assume the character of a
system, and acquire the only dignity which belongs to human
speculations; that of adding to the sum of knowledge.
I am inclined to think, that the brilliant discovery of Charles
Bell, that sensation, and voluntary motion, depend upon two
entirely different sets of nerves, may ultimately be so extended, as to explain the phenomenon to which I have referred.
If the nerves of sensation, and voluntary motion, are distinct,
this instantly suggests the idea, that the nerves of perception
in all cases, may be independent of those of voluntary motion: and if independent of them, iidependent of those of volition
generally: for motion, is the chief manifestation of volition. That
an individual is ever so sensible to the design, and coloring of a
fine painting, or to the exquisite nmoulding of a statue, is then no
reason why he should be able to move his hands, and eyes, so
as to execute one equal to it. And a more searching inquiry
into the nature, and destination, of other parts of the nervous
system, may show, that the nerves which transmit ideas of all
kinds, to the mind, are distinct from those of volition. I throw
out these observations, as affording hints only to the future
inquirer. No part of the preceding inquiry, depends for its
correctness, on the result of these speculations. It stands
upon firm, and unshakable ground, whatever that result




166                      ESSAYS.
may be. We may calculate the effect of gravitation, with unerring precision, although we know nothing of the force we
call gravitation.
It is often said, by those in whom  the force of belief is
strong, in proportion as the power of analysis is weak, that
if the whole course of nature proceeds by fixed laws, if every
event is predetermined, there can be no necessity to adopt
means to ensure the attainment of an end. A single illustration will expose the futility, and unreasonableness, of this
mode of argument. The objector asserts, that if it is certain,
there will be crops next year, it is unnecessary for the farmers to devote any care to their fields. But with equal reason, it may be said, it will be unnecessary there should be an
earth. But this is a self contradiction; for crops mean something grown upon the earth. Something pre-existing therefore
must be given, if the effect is given. Cause and effect, although one is successive to the other, make up one event.
The effect is such, because it is preceded by a cause. There
is another plain contradiction in the reasoning of the objector.
He asserts that if every event is predetermined, the employment of means can never be necessary to attain an end. But
the means, that is the cause, or train of causes, is itself an event.
The objector in his answer to the argument is thus obliged to
adopt in its utmost rigor, the reasoning which he undertakes to
refute. The argument of the advocate of philosophical necessity,
is that there is a firm, and invincible connection between cause
and effect; and the objector desires to prove the invalidity of
that doctrine, by denying that there is any such connection.
His only admissible course, is to admit the premises, and show
that the conclusion does not follow from it. But this is impossible. The fiat of the Supreme Being, is the efficient cause
of all events. Every thing which follows, is effect, although
it is composed of innumerable links. If an effect is certain,
it will come to pass; but it absolutely precludes the supposition, that only part of it will come to pass: for that would
sever all connection between cause and effect. The difficulty
proceeds from fastening upon one link, and calling that cause,
because it precedes another which we call effect: whereas all
the links are bound together by an indissoluble connection.
They all constitute one event, and are referable to one cause.




ESSAYS.                      167
There is no distinction between the phenomena of co-existence, and those of succession: the same law rules over both.
That every body is made up of parts is a necessary and selfevident proposition: that every event which stretches through
time, instead of space, is composed of parts; that is, that
every effect must have a cause, is equally certain. Kaut divides all propositions into analytic, and synthetic. In the
former, the predicate is contained in the very idea of the subject; the notion of parts for instance in that of a whole. In
the second, we go beyond the idea of the subject, in order to
ascribe to it some property, or attribute, which however is
equally necessary. But if our ignorance were less, if we
could penetrate the connection which exists between all events
both in space, and time, all necessary truths would be converted into analytical, or identical ones. The distinction of
the German philosopher, is of great importance, in the actual
state of our knowledge; but it lDaves untouched the great
question of necessity.
That those who most firmly believe in the fixed, and unalterable regularity of the laws of nature, adopt means towards
the attainment of ends, is a proof of that regularity, and not
the reverse. Their actions are only parts of one effect, running through time, and are predetermined with such precision
that they have no power to, control them.




16(8                      ESSAYS.
ESSAY  III.
]NECESSARY AND CONTINGENT TRUTHS.
There is a celebrated distinction to be found in the books,
between necessary and contingent truths.  It is worth while
to examine into the foundation of it.  Necessary, or absolute
truths are supposed to derive their character of immutability
from being a priori, that is from forming a part of the orginal
furniture of the mind. Contingent truths on the other hand,
are supposed to be acquired by induction, that is empirically.
Thus the principle of casuality, is denominated an absolute
truth, while the principle of gravitation is treated as a contingent one. It is obvious then, that truths of the first class,
are considered as purely subjective, as the mere creatures of
the understanding, while those of the second, are obtained
by way of observation, and experience.  There are several
difficulties in the way of this doctrine. 1st. Man, with whom
truths of the first class are supposed to originate, is himself
regarded as a contingent being.  His existence is a fact, not
a lrilciple. 2nd. The complete sujectivity of these truths, is
the, very thing which is supposed to stamp upon them  their
character of absolute verity, and necessity. But this complete
subjectivity of all fundamental truths, while it renders them
true for men, will render them untrue for all beings, whose
understandings are differently constituted. 3rd. According
to this doctrine, an universal proposition alone, contains an
absolute truth, while the particulars of which it is composed,
are imerely contingent.  Thus the principle of causality is
treated as a necessary truth, and yet, the production of an
effect, in any particular instance, is regarded as a contingent
one. There is no doubt, but what the terms principle, and
truntlh, have reference to something which can be expressed in
the form of a general proposition, and we never give those
natnes to a firet,. This however, is only in consequence of the
weakness of our faculties, and not of any intrinsic distinction
bet ween the two. For nothing is contingent; all the phenom



ESSAYS.                      169
ena of nature take place by virtue of fixed laws, and it is inconceivable, that they should take place in any other way.Thus the happening of any event, the occurrence of any incident, the most minute and inconsiderable imaginable, is as
certain, as the most abstract general truths. The last derive
their character of immutable, first, from their universality,
second, from their necessity. But the first have the same
properties. They are brought about by a cause, which could
not have any other effect; and they are therefore true with an
universality, which has no limitation. It is indeed impossible,
for a general proposition, to assume any other character than
the particulars of which it is composed.  It can neither rise
higher, nor sink lower, than any one of those particulars. If
any one effect took place without a cause, or if the conditions
being precisely the same, it failed to take place in one single
instance, the principle of casuality would be annihilated.
It is to the weakness of our faculties as I have observed,
that the distinction between necessary and contingent truths
is owing. And this explains the difficulty which has so much
embarrassed writers on this subject.  There is not a single
instance in which we are made acquainted with the efficient
cause of an effect.  All contemporaneous events, however remote from each other in space, are for aught we know, indissolubly bound together, and all events are dependent
upon agencies which date back far in the past. But notwithstanding our ignorance of ultimate, or efficient causes, we are
firmly persuaded of the absolute verity of the principle of
casuality. On what does this universal, and unshakeable conviction rest. Is the principle a priori, or innate in the mind,
independently of all experience, or is it framed by the mind,
after its faculties are matured and developed?  The exercise
of those faculties, the use of our reasoning powers, would seem
to be abundantly sufficient to decipher experience, and to deduce from it all the conclusions to which we ever arrive. The
principle of impenetrability, is an universal, and necessary
one. But it is equally true in every particular instance. We
cannot in any case, conceive the possibility of two bodies, at
one time, occupying the same space. The same is true of the
principle of casuality. It is not merely a general truth; but
it is inconceivable, if all the circumstances which go to make




170                     ]ESSAYS.
up a cause are precisely the same in ten thousand instances,
that they were in one instance, that the effect should vary in
any one of them. The difference between these two examples
is this. In the first, the terms of the proposition are perfectly
simple; the conditions on which it is founded, are perfectly
apprehended. No variety of texture, form or.color in bodies,
can make any one of them  otherwise than impenetrable.
But in the phenomena of succession, every thing is dimly
seen. We are not only unacquainted with the efficient cause
of any effect, but our knowledge of proximate causes -is the
most slender imaginable.
But universal propositions have been divided into two
classes: those which announce a truth as both universal
and necessary; and those which are universal, but not necessary. That every effect must have a cause, is referred to the
first, while the proposition, all bodies on the earth, gravitate
to it, is treated as an universal, but not as a necessray, and
absolute truth. The first, is supposed to derive its character
of absolute necessity, from an a priori principle, engraven upon
the mind, which thus gives laws to matter, instead of matter
giving laws to the mind. The second is obtained a posteriori,
and by way of induction, and is therefore an empirical, although an universal truth. It is obvious however, that there
must be an efficient cause for the happening of every event,
and that the existence of this cause will render every event
absolutely necessary. If this were not the case, the principle,
every effect must have a cause, would itself cease to be an
universal, and absolute one. If every event is contingent,
the general principle, every effect must have a cause, cannot
be true. What is it therefore which has led writers of great
genius, and profound thought, to except two propositions,
which are entirely contradictory, the one of the other. Evidently it is because we are ignorant of the efficient cause of
any event. Our knowledge only reaches a few links in the
chain of cause and effect. The efficient cause lies hidden in
the past, or our ignorance of the properties of matter is so
great, that we are unable to unravel the modus operandi, to
separate the real cause from those circumstances which accompany, but which are extrinsic to it. But if our knowledge
were complete, if our faculties were sharper, every event




ESSAYS.                       171
would be recognized as necessary, there would be no difference
between mathematical propositioiis, and those which are
termed empirical; and the truth of the last, like those of the
former, would be seen in the singular, as well as in the general.  The mere degree of our knowledge can never determine whether an event is contingent, or necessary; although
we may call it contingent, in order to mark our ignorance of
the efficient cause. That every effect must have a cause is not
more a necessary truth, than the proposition, the fall of an
iron bar will be occasioned by a cause. But when we say, the
iron bar will fall to the earth, by the force of gravitation, we
refer to something, which for aught we know, may be a proximate, not an efficient cause. The distinction is proper, and
useful, in reference to the extent of our knowledge; but we
must never lose sight of the fact, that no event is contingent, that
if in a single instance, it were otherwise, the great principle of
casuality would fall to the ground.
The distinction between necessary, and contingent truths,
assumes in the school of German philosophy, an importance,
which it never had before. It was alluded to, taken for granted, by almost all writers on metaphysics; but it never was
made the sutject of direct investigation until the time of
Kaut. It lies at the foundation of the "critique of pure reason" and serves as a clue throughout, to the understanding of
that remarkable work. Kaut declares, that he can see no way
by which we can conceive certain truths to be necessary, unless we admit, that they are in the mind a priori. Hence, all
our knowledge is made to repose upon certain intuitions, or
conceptions which are stamped upon the mind at its original
formation. To the first class, belong our notions of space
and time; and to the second, the categories, or pure conceptions of the understanding. It does not appear to have occurred to this profound writer, as worth while to inquire
whether this theory is in accordance with what we actually
know of the infant mind. From the assumption, there can be
no necessary truths, unless they are a priori; the author very
con)sistently leaps to the conclusion; all necessary truths are
part of the original furniture of the understanding; in other
words, are engraven upon the mind at birth. The system involves, as the author intended it should, the complete ideality




172                      ESSAYS.
of all our knowledge: for if space, and time, are purely subjective, mere modifications of our sensibility, the material
world can have no substantive existence, no existence out of
the mind: and if the categories are mere forms of thought,
of no further use than to bind together, and give unity to the
world of phantasmagoria which every where meet us, all our
knowledge is resolved into mere manifestations of our being,
and that being is itself phenomenal, and a mere illusion.
But it is unnecessary to examine the consequence of this
theory, so far as it bears upon the problem of the existence of
matter. To me, it appears evident, that the complete sutbjectivity of all our knowledge, would lead to conclusions directly
the reverse of those deduced. If the truth of a proposition
depends not upon the necessary, and immutable connection
between things which have a substantive existence, but upon
the arbitrary structure of our minds, truths which are certain
to us, may be absolutely false to all beings, whose understandings are differently constituted. They would lose their
character of universality, that is of absoluteness, and necessity. But if we say, that the material world has a real existence out of the mind, the truths deduced from its various
properties, and the relations to each other of the parts which
compose it, will be not merely certain for us, but they will be
certain for all beings.
There is no reason for saying, that ideas are connate, rather
than innate. Those two modes of expression, are only different forms of denoting the same thing. If ideas are born with
us, they are born in us; and no subtlety can imagine a difference, which would render the one more proper, more philosophical, than the other. There is even no ground for asserting, that our faculties are innate. The faculties of compounding, abstracting and rationacination, which exist in a high degree in the adult, are absolutely null in the infant of a day
old. It is no more in possession of them, than it is of genera
abstract ideas. These are the product of our faculties; and
our faculties, are the result of a gradual, but total change in
our organization, between birth and manhood. Who supposes,
that the infant, has the least glimmering of casuality, or
that it can analyze and generalize. To say, that these faculties exist before, as well as after the great change, which takes




ESSAYS.                      173
place in its being, is contradictory; for we first say, that until
this change takes place, they are absolutely inoperative, without capacity to engender abstract ideas, and then assert, that
they are active, and have capacity to this end. If the susceptibilities which we receive at birth, only stood in need of
experience, to make them the same they are in the adult, it
might be said, that our faculties were innate. Experience is
undoubtedly necessary to their outward manifestation; but
the inward change which takes place, is still more indispensable. If the faculties remained the same during the whole of
life, as they are at birth, there would be no experience.
Mathematics beyond all other sciences, affords examples of
necessary, and immutable truths. These truths are said to
repose upon a peculiar faculty, called by Kaut pure intuition,
which is a priori, and yet a modification of our sensibility.
All other truths have their root in the categories, which are
pure conceptions of the understanding. In mathematics says
Kaut, we proceed by the construction of conceptions; in other
sciences, we proceed by conceptions alone: Lthat is, in the
first, we are able to describe in space, to make a visible representation of our conceptions; but have no power to do so,
with regard to any other conceptions. We can describe on a
board, any mathematical figure; but we cannot make any
visible representation of our ideas of government, laws religion, &c. The great clearness of the former, and the comparative obscurity of the last, are attributed to this circumstance.
Hence in mathematics, we see the general in the particular,
while in philosophy, we see the particular only in the general.
This last proposition however, cannot be true. No general
principle can be valid, unless the particulars of which it is
composed, are also true: for from these alone is it derived,
and it is incapable of being derived in any other way. The
great number of apodictic truths, which are found in mathematics, compared with any other science, need not be attributed to a peculiar faculty (pure sensibility) of which space and
time are the forms. The extreme simplicity of all mathematical figures, is a sufficient reason, why all the propositions relative to that science, have a clearness, which does not belong
to philosophical truths.  If the properties of matter were
equally laid open to our apprehension, the truths deducible




174                      ESSAYS.
from them, would be seen with the same clearness. My design
is not so much to show that all our knowledge is not purely
subljective, as to show that if it were so, all truths would have
a less, instead of a greater degree of verity; that if the world
has a substantive existence out of the mind, our faculties may
well be supposed sufficient, in proportion to their sharpness,
to find out the relations of things to each other, and that a
knowledge acquired a posteriori, would be true in a more, instead of a less universal sense. In the one case, it would be
true for all men only; in the other, it would be true universally for all beings.
I have observed, that in hardly any instance of cause and
effect, are we able to discern the connection between them.
How then, it may be inquired, can the general principle be
deduced from the particulars. Would it not appear reasonable, and even necessary, to take refuge in the Kautian doctrine of innate, preformed conceptions in the mind. But first,
the difficulty is not removed by this hypothesis. It places us
in possession of certain general and immutable truths, and
yet these are without any application to the particulars of
which they are composed. The contradiction is fully as great
as where we attempt to deduce an universal principle from experiments, the precise condition of which we are imperfectly
acquainted with. It should seem that if a truth were stamped
upon the mind at birth, it ought to lead us with unerring certainty to the truth in every particular instance. That it does
not, is a demonstrative proof that it is acquired in some other
way. Second, if we are unacquainted with the precise conditions under which any event happens, and yet know by experience, that cause and effect are two different things, that
the one is called cause because it invariably precedes, and the
other effect, because it invariably succeeds; this certainty of
connection between the two, would be sufficient to lay the
foundation of the general principle. There is no necessity of
knowing the precise conditions under which any event takes
place, provided we do know one condition which invariably
attaches to every event, that is its connection with something
which precedes. This connection is entirely independent of
the process by which the effect is brought to pass. It is absolutely certain, although the process is never understood.




ESSAYS.                       175
This explains the apparent inconsistency, that an universal
truth may be stamped with absolute certainty, while the particulars of which it is composed, are devoid of the same. In
truth, the particulars are as certain as the general proposition.
In one thing they agree; and as it is this one thing, which invests the last with the character of necessity, and immutability, it must invest the former with the same. That one
thing is the invariable happening of one phenomenon before
another takes place. If this is sufficient to give the character
of immutable certainty to the one, it must be sufficient to give
it to the last, and we need not puzzle ourselves with another
circumstance which has no connection with the truth of either
the general or the particular principle, to wit: the circumstances under which particular events take place. It will be
true universally, and it will be true in every particular instance, that an effect will, and must be preceded by a cause.
This application of the word must, which imports necessity,
and not merely universality is inconceivable says Kaut, unless
some conception is stamped upon the mind at birth. But
where is the inconceivability, provided matter exists. If it
does it must be stamped with certain properties. The possession by outward objects, of certain inherent attributes, and
we cannot conceive of them in any other way, will lay as sure
a foundation for the derivation of necessary truths, as if the
mind were stamped with certain inherent condeptions. All
that we can say in either case is, it is so, because it is so. In
the one, it is a truth, because matter is endowed with certain
attributes; in the other, because mind is endowed in like
manner. There will be no difference in the certainty of the
truths we get possession of, in which ever way they are acquired; with this distinction, that in the one case, they will be
true for all beings, and in the other, for none but minds which
are organized in a particular manner.
Mlathematics is distinguishable from  every other science in
this important particular, that in the former, we have nothiug
to do with the question of cause and effect.  Relations, not
properties, constitute its province. Not that there are not an
infinite number of relations which grow out of the inward
properties of both matter and mind; but mathematics is
obliged to neglect these because they have not the simplicity




176                     ESSAYS.
which belongs to those relations which grow out of number,
and quantity. I speak now of what is termed pure mathematics; for mixed mathematics, as its name implies, does attempt more, and in consequence, its conclusions are not invested
with the same apodictic certainty. That philosophy deals with
properties, as well as relations; with the phenomena of cause
and effect, an that too in regard to both matter and mind, necessarily places the widest distinction between the two sciences.
It renders all researches in philosophy, infinitely more complicated, and difficult, than in mathematics. The properties of a
figure, may be seen with the assistance of one sense, together
with the help of our understanding; but all our senses together,
with the help of the understanding, are insufficient to reveal
the inward properties of matter, much less to let us perceive
the operation of one part upon another. But wherever our
materials in philosophy, possess the same simplicity which
they have in mathematics, we arrive with the same ease at
apodictic truths. Thus the impenetrability of bodies, is as
necessary, and absolute a truth, as the properties of a square
or triangle. And yet it involves the action of one body upon
another. Two bodies cannot at one and the saime time occupy
the same space. This is an instance of cause and effect. It
implies the action of one piece of matter upon another. And
the principle of casuality is seen in the particular, as well as
in the general. The resistance of one body to another; a
property which it possesses because it is body, will forever
prevent that other from occupying the same space with itself.
This is absolutely true in every particular instance; and the
general proposition, only derives its character of apodictic
certainty, from the fact, that the particulars are true without
any exception.
Space, and time, the pure forms of sensibility, as well as
the categories the pure forms of the understanding, are regarded by Kbaut as a priori notions, because they are purely
subjective, and independent of all experience. But our sensations are also treated by that philosopher, as purely subjective, and yet are considered as affording only contingent
truths. But if the character of necessary, and im imutable,
which belongs to some truths, depends solely, and absolutely,
upon their complete subjectivity, all other truths which are




ESSAYS.                          177
equally subjective, must be stamped with the same character
of necessity.  All our knowledge of whatever kind; whether
derived from the senses, or from  what is termed pure sensibility, or from the understanding, are treated in the critique
of pure reason, as completely subjective.  WVhere then is the
foundation for the distinction which makes so important a
part of that work, between necessary, and contingent truths.
The author endeavors to avoid the difficulty by saying that
our sensations are consequent upon experience, and therefore
give us only empirical knowledge.  But, as it is a fundamental
principle of his philosophy, that all the objects of sense are
purely phenomenal, that is mere representations, there can be
no experience antecedent to the perception.  The perception
contains everything, and itself constitutes the experience, and
being purely sutjective, like space, and time, must afford
knowledge of precisely the same character.  A false theory is
almost sure to betray itself; an infirmity in some p)art or another, invaritably shows itself, nowithstanding as a whole, the
system tmay be compacted with armazing ingeinuity.  The last
gives it great security for a considerable p)eriod, bIcause some
problems at least, are solved with great plausibility: but the
first is an infallible proof that the theory is without foundation.  The Ptolemnade system. as a whole v.was wondlerftu!ly consistent, an I exp)lained the 1motions of the planetary wNorld
with a great show of reason.  But here and thlere, a fltw was
discoverablse, whlich could in no way be reconleiled wNvith the
hypothesis on which every thing was )built.  These weak spIots
were 1an1 uuceqivocal proof that the system  munst itself be
wronllg, and led Illtimnately to the dliscovery of tihe trunt h.
The theory p)rolP)i:}und(led  by Plato in the Ph}cedlo, tlhat all
knnow-letdge consi.sts in remirniscenece, is one (of the earliest attenil)ts to establish the docltrine of innlate idlea s.    lMetal),!ysics
was for Plato, only a su!limrie chimera.  He observes, that as
we clan, by a sel'ieS  of questions skilfully p)lt, (draw (correct
questions even from an igjnorant main, antl thus leadl himn ste-p
by stel), to a}n ttquailltaice with the Inost recitltite trul-hs, all
the ideas whitch are thus envo(lved, must havxe lil ill tl{he minl,
in a(orinant stlte.  Tle soul nust, have (exis!ted btfore, birlll;
and Ihece? a new arg rnent f1o,r its i ilmmllr'ta,lity. Tthe I}eon101 is
desigrned as an experiment, to test the truth of this frail, but
12




178                        E SSAS.
captivatilg theory. In that dialogue, the reader will observe,
that the questions are leading ones, and are so artfully conceived, that the slave, if he were a real person, and not Plato
himself, could not avoid answering, them  in the manner desired. The sophistry of this dark, and mysterious doctrine, is
very easily exposed.  When we analyze a subject for any one,
either in writing or conversation, it is no longer a difficult
matter, to comprehend its full scope and meaning.  It is for
this reason, that the passive occupation of reading is so much
easier, than the active one of composing. In the former, the
analysis is made to our hands; in the latter, we are compelled
to go through it ourselves. In a philosophical work, we find
the subject rid of all the extraneous matter, which incuimbered
it, and which it is so difficult for an ordinary mind to unravel.
Through the great assistance thus afforded, we are enabled to,understand many things, which before, were confusedly seen,;because they were heaped together in the mind, without order,:and consequently, without meaning. This analysis, this rejection of false, and combination of true ideas, may be effected directly, by a written exposition of the sul'ject, or indi-rectly, by questions put one by one, and so ingeniously framed,
-as to conduct the mind of the person to whom they are addressed, to the very conclusion at which we are aiming. This
-is all which there is in this celebrated doctrine. It is an attempt to invest with an air of mystery, a very important, but
well known fact, in the history of the human mind. Bacon in
in the "Advancement of learning," propounds the same doctrine, so difficult is it, for even the finest minds, and the most.clear sighted judgment, to cast aside, those shining and in-.genious theories, which have been invented by the imaginative.




ESSAYS.                       179
ESSAY IV.
PERSONAL IDENTITY.
It is remarkable, how few of the difficult questions in mental philosophy, have received a thorough, and satisfactory solution. With the exception of the great question of liberty,
and necessity, there is hardly any other which can be considered as finally disposed of Every other, continues to be
surrounded with the greatest conceivable difficulties; and yet
until these are removed, the problems cannot be said to be
fairly solved. In mathematics, it is enough, if we employ a
faultless chain of reasoning, to establish a proposition: in
mental philosophy, we must go much farther, and show how
it is, that the human mind obstinately persists in an adherence to views, which are the opposite of those to which our
conclusions conduct us. There must be some reason why it
does, and the explanation of this reason, should ever be regarded, as making part of the problem. The argument of
Berkely to prove the non-existence of matter, is absolutely
without fault; yet for want of this necessary condition, it
fails to produce conviction in any one. It seems, as if the utmost, which the human mind can accomplish, was to obtain a
clear conception, and to make a lucid exposition of the terms
of the problem, while the solution of it, continues to baffle
the utmost stretch of ingenuity.
There is no more difficult question in the whole compass of
mental philosophy, than that which turns upon the qilestion
of personal identity. If we do not admit this identity, as
subsisting during the whole of life, we do violence to our reason, and are conducted to consequences of the most serious
import to morality. If on the other hand, we do admit it, as
an ultimate law of belief, innumerable difficulties spring up,
so proplexing, and irreconcilable, as to confound our judgment, and to render our belief a mere mask for our ignorance.
Mr. Locke has said, that we acquire a knowledge of our personal identity by consciousness; and that consciousness constitutes personal identity: on which Butler remarks, that as




180                        ESSAYS.
consciousness is confined to the time present; anxd as it is necessary to bind the past with the present, in order to obtain
this knowledge, we many be said to acqiiire it through metm-ory,
rather than through conscibusiiess.  MIr. Locke lerhaps, has
not fully explained himself. But I cannot help thinking, that
there is vastly more foree in his remark, than has been attributed to it.  If he had gone further, and said, that as the
faculty of reflex consciousness, is what makes tihe disting-uishing difference between rational, and all other beings, and that
therefore, it constitutes personial identity, the rema.rk, although
of broader import, would no1t be so liable to objection. Melmory is only continued consciousness; an(l the continuance substantially of the same orgallism, would seem to lay a sufficient
foundation for the notion. The existence of the attribute,
will then be made to depenld upon the nature of the being, of
whom it is affirmed, and not upon the medium, through which
a knowledge of that nature is acquired.
That all men are persuaded of their identity through life, is
not conclusive.  Our iustilnctive beliefs are not intended to
give us knowledge: they are only designed to supply the p)lace
of knowledge. There may be a deception; and for want of
acuteness to detect where it lies, the mind naturally takes
refuge in a conviction, which most completely delivers it
from  its doubts. A  p)owerlul instinct, thrusts the notion of
freedom upon us, and 3et a rigorous analysis, shows that this
notion is unfounded. All men are firmly persuaded of the existence of a material world; not because they suppose, that
the Deity would not deceive them; but because they believe,
that they have a direct, and immediate knowledge of external
objects.  Even if this notion is Ulfounded, there would be no
moral deception. Every thing would proceed precisely as it
does now, in accordance with certain fixed laws; which being
themselves realities, would render it indifferent for all the purposes of human life, whether there were any objects without,
corresponding with our sensations. When I use the term  deception therefore, I do not mean that there can be a:y thing
like moral delinquency on the part of the supremie being.
This would be childish talk at the present day, though it was
very excusable in the time of Descartes. All I mean is, that
there is an enigma, a speculative difficulty, which more time,




ESSAYS.                      181
and thought may ultimately be able to unravel. Or even admitting, that the difficulty should forever defy all human analysis; it will not the less continue to be an enigma. Whenever the boundary between the knowable, and the unknowable,
is clearly, and definitively markedl out, we shall be able to exercise more of the modesty, which becomes the genuine inquirer; we shall be less disposed, to take refuge in a vain, and
empty dogmiatism, concerning those subjects which lie beyond
the sphere of our faculties.
The twig which was pl'anted forty years ago, we believe to
be the same with the plant which has now become a tree a
yard in diameter. Our senses inform us, that the two were
fixed to one identical spot,, during that period, and give us no
information of the interior changes which have taken place.
It is like seeing a stick crooked in the water: no exercise of
the sense of sight, can make us see it otherwise. The deception is afterwards corrected; in the one case, by our senses,
and reasoning; in the other, by reasoning alone. In the first
therefore, the deception is easily removed; in the other, it
never is among the great majority of mankind. In the case
of personal identity, the, difficulty is more complicated; for
man is endowed with the faculty of reflex consciousness,
which seems to bind together his most distant actions, and
thus to give unity to his existence. The difficulty is increased,
because independently of his physical organization, he possesses an intellectual structure, which both our senses, and
reason, are unable to fathom. But if both our physical, aud
intellectual organization are necessary to make up the idea of
the man, and if either or both undergo essential changes,
during the different periods of life, there cannot be a strict
identity of person. The minds and character of no two individuals are alike, because the physical, and mental structure
of no two is alike. It would seem then, that the notion of
personal identity, springs from an abuse of the doctrine of
general ideas. Two co-exisisting things which resemble each
other, are classed under the same genus, and two which resemble
each other at different times, are called one and the same thing.
I recollect innumerable thoughts, and actions, of my past
life, running back even to childhood; and I am firmly impressed, that I am the same being, during that whole period.
But I recollect a great multitude of the thoughts, and actions,




182                      ESSAYS.
of other beings, contemporaneous with my own; and yet I do
not conceive myself to be one with them. But if the question
is directly proposed to any one of reflection, do you conceive
yourself at fifty, to be the same being you were at two or
three years, he will be instantly staggered. Even if he can
recollect some actions during the latter periods, the enormous
disparity, between his present self or state of being,. and the
state of being at those, will produce great hesitation, and
cause him to liken his recollection, to a recollection of the
actions of other beings, whom he never conceives to be the
same with himself. And if the question is pushed further,
and he is asked, do you conceive yourself to be the same being
-at fifty, as at one month, or one week old, he will be still more
confused. He may endeavor to escape from the difficulty by
saying, that the only difference consists in this; that at those
periods, so remote from his present existence, his faculties were
in a state of envelopment. But no length of time, would be
sufficient to produce what he calls a state of development, if
the faculties had always continued to be as feeble as in infancy
or childhood. The faculties then must have undergone a prodigious change; that is they cannot be the same; which at once
destroys all notion of sameness of person. The difference between the infant of one week, or one month, and the adult, is nearly as great as between a young animal, and a rational creature.
If he who defends the doctrine of personal identity, is asied;
shall one who killed a man at two years of age, be punished
at thirty or forty, when it is for the first time discovered, the
answer will be no, because it did not possess understanding:
as if it were possible to conceive of the personal identity
of a human being, as subsisting at two periods, in one of
which, it had, and in the other had not reason. For notwithstanding the sensible answer thus given; the person interrogated, will persist in maintaining, the perfect identity of the
child, and the man. The man may recollect having caused
the death of some one at two years of age; but this is not
enough to create accountability for the action: which illustrates the remark before made; that the memory of our past
actions, does not constitute personal identity; and that Mr.
Locke approached much nearer to the truth, when he said, it
was consciousness, which made up the idea; and that he would




ESSAYS.                       183
have approached still nearer the truth, if he had insisted,
that it was the continued existence of that complex organization, we denominate reflex consciousness, which constitutes
what we call the identity of a hutmian being. The distinction
is of the greatest importance, between the mere exercise of the
faculty of consciousness, or of consciousness and memory together; and the continued sameness of that organization, of
which memory, and simple consciousness, are only manifestations. Whether this sameness does really exist through
the various periods of life, is the precise question I have
proposed for consideration. Is the being in the womb, the
same with the man of twenty; is thle man of twenty, the same
with the man of fifty. On the other hand, is the man of fortynine, and fifty, the same; or the man of any age, the same
yesterday, and to-day. It is this difficulty of unravelling the
thread of our existence, of piercing through the real character
of the phenomena; which meet us at every step, which drives
us to lay hold of certain laws of belief, which we call ultimate
truths, of which no explanation can be given. But there is a
very important distinction between these truths: some involve
no contradiction, are assented to immediately, and stand in no
need of analysis; while others, although they are generally
assented to, are full of contradiction, and therefore do stand
in need of analysis. If a proposition however true, involves
an absurdity, it must be capaole of some explanation, which
will remove the absurdity. If the belief, and the disbelief,
both involve a contradiction, there must be some deception,
some delusive appearance, somewhere, and this also must be
capable of explanation. If no one had ever taken the stick
out of the water to test its shape, or if no one had ever
traveled twenty or thirty miles, to make experiment, whether
the sky, and the earth touched each other, it wounll still be
true, that both these phenomena presented a deceptive appearance, and that the deception was capable of explanation.
In every case of contradiction, or doubt, there must be
either a conflict between our senses, or between these and
our intellectual perceptions; or between the intellectual perceptions themselves. In the first case, the contradiction is removed, by causing one or more senses to correct another.
Thus the shape of the stick, when taken out of the water, is




184                      ESSAYS.
tested by both sight and touch. In the second, the impressions of sense, are corrected by the intellectual perceptions,
or vice versa, the intellectual perceptions are corrected by the
senses. Thus. with regard to the existence of matter; is it
purely phenomenal, our senses must either correct our intelleetual perceptions, or these last must correct the senses. In
the third case, where there is a disagreement between the intellectual perceptions, one or more of these must correct others.
Thius in the great questions of liberty and necessity, and of
personal identity, the difficulty must be capable of being removed, and this can only be done, by permitting some of
these perceptions to rectify the false judgment which others
impose upon us.
Personal identity does not consist in the simple act of
consciousness, for that has reference to the present, not to the
past; nMor in the possession of memory, for we may recollect
many of our actions, which occurred at a period, when we
were not the same beings we are now. I have shown the
futility of the distinction between our faculties, as being at
one time, in a state of envelopment, and at another, in a state
of development. The distinction would be just, if the faculties themselves were the same at these different periods. To
say, that they were at one time dormant, and at another in
full vigor, does indeed seem to relieve the difficulty; because
it imports that they were the same; which is the very thing
to be proved, and not to be taken for granted. It is by availing ourselves of the ambiguity of language, in stating our
premises, that we so often leap to conclusions, which although
they are logically correct, as they flow from the premises, are absolutely false, because the premises were false. This is a remarkable instance of that species of deception; and can only
be avoided, by analyzing the ideas which make up our premises; in other words, by making our intellectual perceptions
correct one another. It may be said, that although the being
of a week, or a year old, is not precisely the same with the beilng of thirty or forty, it is sufficiently so for all practical purposes. But this is so, only because our judgment corrects our
imperfect notions, and determines that they are not the same.
For if by practical purposes, is meant, that they are dealt
with as the same; this is as untrue as the proposition, that




ESSAYS.                       185
they are philosophically, or in theory the same. No one makes
the being of thirty or forty, answer able for what the child of
three or five did. And if it is said, that this is only in consequence of the last not possessing a moral sense; this would
show, thatitis ieither theoretically or ptractically the saume. Tais
would be the case, even if the moral sense only presupp)osed, the
existence of our active, to the exclusion of our intellectual taculties; which is impossible. To say that two beings which
are partially alike,,are the same, is a solecism; for it leaves it
uncertain, whether personal identity consist. in similitude, or
difference. To the question, are these beings the samne; the
answer is, they are so, except as regards thel tfaculty of reason;
whereas the notion of personal ictentity, presupposes the continuing sameness of that very faculty. Identity is indivisible;
and a being which has some attributes in common with another, cannot be identical with il. We call the twig the same
with the tree, the acorn the same with the oak of a thousand
years. This is on the principle of generaliza:tion; to save
the necessity of running over a vast number of particulars.
Generalization however, proceeds on the idea, that there are
differences, as well as resemblances, and therefore excludes
identity. But we believe, that there is vastly more in the
notion of personal identity, than in that of the identity of a
plant. This proceeds from a defect in our perceptions. It is
a very easy matter to detect resemblances; it is a very painful exercise of the mind, to find out differences. Analogy
proceeds upon the first, but the principle of analysis is eniployed in the last: and without analysis, there may be partial,
but there cannot be complete knowledge. I use the term
complete, in a relative sense; for I believe, that our knowledge
will never be brought to any thing likle perfection.  Our
faculties are verv limited; and life is so short, that no individual can pursue a train of thought long enough, to deduce
from  it, any thing like all the consequences which might
naturally flow from it.
I have remarked, that with regard to much the greater number of those dark and intricate problems, which have exercised the mind, the utmost we can hope to accomplish, is to
make a clear statement of the terms in which they are conceived; but as to the solution, that must be postponed for the
present, and perhaps forever. It is however, no inconsiderable




186                      ESSAYS.
matter, if we can succeed in expressing their meaning, although we may be unable to explain the difficulties which
surround them. The first shows us the true state and degree of
our knowledge; and if the problem is soluble, this may lead
to its solution.
All beings inanimate, as well as animate, are endowed with
a certain constitution, or structure, which differs them from
each other, and which we shall call their organism. The continuing sameness of this organism, if that were possible,
would constitute the identity of the first: in the case of man,
it would constitute his personal identity: for the power of reflex consciousness, being a constituent part of his being, its
continued sameness, would not only make him identical at
different periods, but would render him cognizant of this
identity. The organism of all beings other than man, depends
upon their physical structure alone; that of man, on his physical, and intellectual structure. The nature of that principle
which constitues mind, is placed beyond the reach of our
faculties, that of our physical structure is not. Observation,
and experience, attest, that both are indespensable to the existenee, and operation of our faculties, in our present state of
being: and it would contradict the most settled principles of
reasoning, to assert, that the existence of the intellectual
principle, even if it were the same at every period of life,
constituted personal identity. The changes which take place,
from the womb, to the adult man, are so enormous, that they
must be owing to an alteration in our organic, or intellectual
structure, or both, and it is immaterial in which, so fair as the
present question is concerned.
The proposition, that each class of beings, and each individual, is endowed with a distinct organism, which differs
each class from another, and each individual from another, is
entitled to further consideration: for the continuance of the
same organism, notwithstanding a change of particles, or a
change in the position of the particles, and the continuing
sameness of the faculty of reflex consciousness, which presides
over our being, and takes notice of these changes, may well
enough be supposed, and will render it probable, that our
identity is preserved, during limited periods of our existence.
The reason why it may be for limited periods, and cannot be




ESSAYS.                      187
during the whole of life, is that the organism itself undergoes
material alterations, after long intervals, which forbid a continuing sameness.  It continues unchanged, during hours,
days, and even years, at fixed periods of life; andl the faculty
of reflex consciousness, which accompanies it, is enabled to
take notice of all those changes, so far as they do not affect
itself, and thus to stamp a character of unity, or personality
upon our being. But when these changes do affect itself, as
in the growth from infancy to manhood, or as is often the case
in apoplexy, palsy, and various other diseases, and injuries,
personal identity cannot be preserved.
To the objection then, which seems to be one of exceeding
difficulty; if we are not identically the same at birth, or at
one, two or three years, as at forty; what reason have we to
suppose, that we are the same from week to week, or from
day to day; the answer is that the organism continuing undisturbed during very short intervals, and being materially
affected during long ones, personal identity is impossible during the one, while it is even necessary during the other. That
our material structure, undergoes great, and important changes
during life is clear; that our intellectual functions in our
present state of being, are indissolubly connected with that
structure; not upon any one part taken separately, but upon
the totality of that structure, is equally certain. That what
we term  organism, is something different from the mere particles of matter, inasmuch as those may be organized in every
conceivable way, and that it may, notwithstanding the change
of particles, continue unaffected during certain periods, is
equally evident. There is then no great difficulty in conceiving, that a human being may preserve its identity during
some periods of its existence, and yet not during all. It may
be said, that if the lapse of time, makes so great a difference
in the one case, it should make some appreciable difference in
the other. This expression, lapse of time, has great influence
in obscuring the question. It may be observed then, that
neither space, nor time, are properties, or qualities of any
being: they are only relations; a very important distinction,
as regards the question of personal identity. It is not the
different times, nor the different spaces, in which beings are
placed, which makes them  differ from  each other, or from




188                      ESSAYS.
themselves. These constitute their external relations, but not
their internal structure: and it is upon the last, that the question of personal identity entirely turns. It is not because
different beings have existed in different spaces, and times,
that they differ from one another: it it is not because what
we call the same being, has existed in different spaces and
times, that it differs at different periods; it is because accompanying those changes of space, and time, or more precisely,
those changes of its external being, great alterations may, or
may not take place in its organism, or internal state. If this
continues the same, while the others are perpetually varying,
the being will continue the same with itself: if on the contrary,
the first should remain the same, and the last be affected, it
will no longer be the same; it will lose its identify. This is
evidenced, when in the twinkling of the eye, an injury is inflicted upon the organism, which instantaneously destroys or
impairs the reason. In one case, the organism, and personal
identity are preserved, notwithstanding the flow of time; in
the other, they are obliterated, although the lapse of time is
inconceivably small.
I recollect some of my actions when I was four years of age.
I call them my own, when in reality, I recognize them as belonging to a being totally different from  my present self.
Does not this act of recollection however, prove that they do
belong to the same being. Does it not by necessary implication, refer them  to one identical person. I say I recollect
them. Who is this I, if it is not the being who recollects;
and is not this act of consciousness indivisible, incapable of
being shared between two or more beings. But I recollect
the actions of many other beings, which transpired at the
same time; and if the mere act of recollection is sufficient to
refer the first, it may be sufficient to refer the second to one
and the same person. It is true, I do not confound the one
with the other; nor do I confound thw actions of any one
among the last, with those of any other: and by not confounding them, I keep each separate, and never make the beings to whom I attribute them, the same with myself. How
is it then, that I do confound certain other actions, which
occurred at the same time, and refer them to myself. The
answer is not difficult, and has been overlooked, because it is




ESSAYSo                       189
not so: and it explains the paradox of personal identity. For
there is no one, however firmly persuaded he may be, of his
identity from the cradle to the grave, but what feels that there
is a paradox, a latent contradiction;: and he takes refuge in
the persuasion, because he is unable to unravel the knot. The
whole of that existence, which I call my own, is linked together by intervals of time so exceedingly minute, as to be
absolutely unappreciable. The thought, feeling, or action, of
each moment of time, is remembered the next, because the
organism has undergone no change in that imperceptible interval. But the intervals, which mark the changes in the organism, are also so minute, that we are insensible of them. In
a day, or a year, they may amount to nothing: in twenty, or
thirty years, they may be radical, and complete.  But the
periods of five, and of thirty-five years of age, are not separated from one another by a void time, but have been connected together by the unceasing flow of minute portions of
time. The feelings, and acts of the infaut of five years, are
not immediately communicated to the adult of thirty or
forty: they are communicated to tlhe infant, the next instant,
and so on, through a, coutntless number o(f instants, to the
period of thirty or forty. They are handed downl, not because
the being is the same at those two remote periods; but because, there are no two successive instants of time, in that
whole interval, in which it was not the same. The knowledge
being thus handed down from minute to minlure, and firom
hour to hour; and( it being impossible to attribute those feelings, and acts to other beings, when they are external to us;
and separated from ourselves by the senses, we say, that they
were the feelings, and acts of the being who now remembers
them. We feel, that what (does not belong to another being,
that is, to a being whose position in space, is different friom
our own, must therefore be the s:ame with ourselves. But it
is the internal make, or constitution of a being, which constitutes its identity; and there is more similarity between any
two adults, of forty, than there is between the infant, and the
man of forty. The plrocess I have described, as taking place
in the interval, which separates infancy fiomr mature age, explains, why it is, that although we speak of our identity,
through all stages of our existence, we never feel satisfied




190                      ESSAYS.
that it is so. The contradiction is the necessary result of the
process which takes place. The change from  the womb to
forty, or from  five to forty, is immense, but the interval between, has been filled up by inconceivably short intervals of time,
which by connecting each successive two, connects the united
whole, and thus hands down the information we had at one time;
recollection we call it, to another time, however remote, although
our organism, and identity, are no longer the same. The perceptions acquired by reflection, are thus made to correct those
which grow up spontaneously, and antecedent to reflection.
ESSAY V.
THE EXISTENCE OF MATTER.
One science sheds light upon every other; for all have
reference to man, whose mind is the source, and the repository
of those ideas, which make up what we denominate science.
Thus the hypothesis of the radiation of light, whether true or
not, nmay contribute materially, to the investigation of the
great problem relative to the existence of matter. The light
of the sun, according to this hypothesis, reaches us in abou.t
eight minutes. The momentutn of any substance, no matter
how subtle, and ethereal, is increased by increasing its velocity.
For instance, the electric fluid, which is so fine, as to be imperceptible with the most powerful microscope, easily penetrates through the most solid bodies, making a hole through
them, as fine as the finest needle. But the velocity of light
is immeasurably greater than that of electricity. The last
moves with a speed which is conceivable, the first with a
speed which is almost inconceivable. No matter then, how
fine, and etheral a substance may be, its velocity being almost
inconceivably great, it must acquire a momentum proportionally great: and the conclusion would seem to be, that if light
is matter, it would batter to pieces, not only the finest glass,




ESSAYs.                      191
but the most solid edifices on the surface of the globe. It is
true, that all bodies are porous; but it is exceedingly difficult
to understand, why this substance which is equally diffused
through all parts of space, should invariably pass through
these pores, and never ilmpinge upon the matter which incloses them. If it should be said, that although light is not
matter, there is a something which occasions it, and that this
something is matter, the same difficulty recurs. That something must traverse space with au inconceivable velocity, and
would be fatal, not only to the delicate membrane of the eye,
but would pulverize all our edifiets. Independently therefore,
of other great difficulties, which natural philosophy suggests,
such as the blackness of all space, beyond our atmosphere;
the conclusion would seem to be, that light cannot be matter
It is a very curious fact, in the history of the human mind,
that although at least the secondary qualities of matter, are
universally agreed, not to have any existence out of the mind,
this has not in the least influenced the speculations of natural
philosophers. These proceed, precisely as if no such discovery
had been made. That there should be a contradiction between
theory and practice, is not at all remarkable; but that there
should be a contradiction between theory, and theory; that
is, that one and the same mind, fully admitting the validity of
both, should immediately engage in a train of inquiry, which
demolishes one of them, is not so easy to be accounted foir.
If it should be said, that this is only in consequence of an adherence to a settled mode of speech, yet if this has the effect
of confounding not merely names, but things; no advance
other than in name can be made in mental philosophy. The
imperfection of our faculties is so great, that although they
enable us to see two things as equally clear, and undoubted,
xwhen they are considt red separately, yet the moment they are
brought together, reveal to us innumerable contradictions,
and leave us in a state of total uncertainty as to either the one,
or the other. As the subject then, is one of such inherent
difficulty; what I say must be regarded not as positive deductions, but as merely affording hints to future thinkers.
My design is to condense the difficulties of the question, not
to solve them. It is not given to the human mind, to resolve
more than one or two problems in mental philosophy, in a
course of two thousand years.




192                        ESSAYS.
It is remarkable, that there is no way we can fall upon, to
disprove the existence of matter, which does not instantly
prove its existence. If we say, that external objects are a
mete congeries of sensations, and purely phenomenal, we suppose the elxistence of the senses. If we liken these sensations
to the representations in dreaming or insanity, we suppose a
corporeal being, who is the subject of them. If we say, that
our senses give us Do knowledge beyond our senses, is it not
very remarkable, that certain sensations, and none others, are
produced in different individuals who have the same senses.
The man livintg in London or Paris, sees one set of objects,
thiei man living in Philadelphia, or New York, sees a totailly
different sort. Neither sees, what the other does. The man
passing along the Strand, or the Boulevards, never beholds
the s)pectacle presented to the man, who walks through Broadway, or Chesnut street.  And if we reverse the situation of
the two, and transport the Parisian to Philadelphia, or the
Philiadelphia;n to Paris, the sensations of each will be exactly
reversedl. If these sensations were purely subjective, mere
nmodiifications of our sensitivity, no conceivable reason can be
assigned, why they should invariably follow a certain order;
why tihe same set of itnages should not be presented indifferently to both individuals.'\We may say, that this is the result
of a law of the human mind inexplicable; to be sure, but
not less a law. But this will not be knowledge, but only cona
jectlre; while at the same time, it contradicts every notion
we can form of law. For if our sensations are absolutely independent of any thing exterior to us; if they are the mere
result, of our mental, or'pathematic' organization, the law
should cause the same phenomena to all men; for the organization of all is the same in this respect; as is shovwn by removing the Parisian to Philadelphia, and the Philadelphian
to Paris. The sensations of each are reversed, when according
to the  hypothesis, they should be the same. Fithte in his
celebra, tedl work, "Science de la connaissance" suggests, that
the unshakable conviction we have, that there are objects externlal to us, is in consequence of the mystery of our being;
which we are unable to perpetrate, and therefore unable to explain the process which makes us believe that to be a reality,
wh:.ch is a mere illusion.  We might liken it also to the per



ESSAYS.                      193
plexed question of the will: we are convinced of our freedom,
although our actions are necessary. Fichte's suggestion, is
the same as Berkeley's. And there is this difference between
the question of liberty, and necessity; that all the phenomena
of the will are explicable, although our volitions are necessary:
and there is no one who has the requisite power of analysis,
but what will see in his own conduct, and the conduct of
every one else, undoubted proofs of this necessity. But no
amount of thought is sufficient to make us understand, how
it is possible, that external objects should be mere representations, much less to realize that they are so. One man never
sees, during the longest life, the same implements, commrodities, and furniture, which another sees. One never finds himself in a house in Moscow, or in a cabin in Siberia. The senses
the whole organization of both are the same, while the sensations are totally different. The phenomena presented to each,
are therefore inexplicable, unless in addition to those senses,
and that organization, there is something beyond, which has
an objective, and independent existence. For a law of the
human mind, must depend entirely upon its organization;
and where this is the same, it is inconceivable, that different
effects should follow.  The theory of Burkely and Fichte
therefore, that our conviction of the existence of external objects, notwithstanding they do not exist, is the result of a
mere law of our being, has no foundation. A law, so far as
this subject is concerned, may be thus defined: The antecedents in any phenomena, or the conditions on which any phenoInena happen, being the same, the consequences will be the
same. The ideality of the external world, would be a departure from every notion we can form of a law.
The argument of Berkely, is undoubtedly one of the finest
specimens of analysis, any where to be found. The reasoning
is perfectly lucid, has all the rigor of mathematical demon-.
stration, and has never been answered. That subtle thinker'
readily perceived, that there could be no distinction between
the primary, and secondary qualities of matter; that the sense
of touch, as well as sight hearing, &c.. make us acquainted
with our sensations only, and cannot make us acquainted with
any thing else. For if matter is made up of certain qualities,
13




194                     ESSAYS.
and these qualities, hardness, motion, impenetrability, color,
&c., are nothing but a congeries of sensations, the sensations
are all which we can know any thing about. One and the
same thing cannot be a sensation, and an external object.
The properties of mind, cannot be the properties of matter.
If there is any thing external to us therefore, it must be a
matter of vague conjecture. Such is the argument of Berkely,
and the argument may be said to be faultless. But an argument may amount to demonstration, and yet be false. The
antinomies, or cosmological problems of Kaut, are a remarkable example of this.*  Four propositions are successively
stated, and demonstrated; and then four propositions, which
announce principles diametrically opposite, are also demonstrated. No flaw can be detected in the reasoning. Each
thesis, and each anti-thesis, when read separately, is perfectly
convincing; nor does any comparison of the two afterwards diminish-the force of the reasoning contained in either. It is clear,
that there must be a deception somewhere; a thing cannot be,;and not be, at one and the same time: and until it is discover-,ed, our reasonings may be logical, but cannot be true. It is
not:uncommon for the conclusion in a syllogism to be true,
although the premises are false. It is a regular deduction
from the premises. But in the argument of Berkely, and the
antinomies of Kaut, the premises, so far as our understand-,ings reach, are sound, and unexceptionable.
No antinomy has been constructed, with reference to the,existence of matter; but the reasoning of Mr. Hume, enables
us to do so. Mr. Hume's mind was as subtle, and penetrating.as Berkely's; and he very soon- perceived that the same train,of reasoning, which disproves the existence of the substance
matter, disproves the existence of the substance mind. If as
regards the first, w~e are only cognizant of our sensations; as
regards the last, we are only cognizant of our perceptions,and ideas. Neither sensations, nor ideas, can be substance;.and thus all existence of every conceivable kind, is annihilated.at one blow. But the conclusion, although logically true, is,nevertheless inconceivable. There can be no spiritual sub-,stance, no "chose en soi," says Mr. Hume, because our ideas
Critique de la Raison pure, v. 2 p. 22 to 58.




ESSAYS.                     195
constitute all our knowledge beyond the material world, and
ideas cannot be a substance, nor have any resemblance to one.
But what is the I, which affords us those representations we
call ideas, if it is not something in which they inhere, and
which is therefore totally different from them. When we say,
all we behold and conceive, may be phantasmagoria, we mean
that our sensations and perceptions, may be as purely subjective, as in dreaming, or insanity, in which there are no corresponding objects present. But we cannot affirm that the
subject is itself illusion; for then, there would be no representations of any kind. The subjective, to whom these representations appear, whether they be true or false, must itself have
existence. It would exceed the ability of the acutest mind,
to construct a proposition, proving its non-existence, which
did not at every step take for granted its existence.
Mr. Hume's speculations are contained in a short essay.
He possessed the rare faculty of condensing a great deal of
thought in a small compass. But in the "Critique of Pure
reason" Kaut has reared a vast system of idealism. Nor does he
pursue the same train of reasoning as Berkely and Hume.
The complete subjectivity of space and time, is attempted to
be proved, by the character of necessity, which invariably accompanied them; their idealty, is a necessary consequence of
their subjectivity, and the ideality of all the things which are
contained in space and time, follows with the same rigor of
demonstration. IKaut undertakes to distinguish between his
system, and that of Berkely. In his, space and time, and all
the things contained in space and time, are termed pure phenomena: in Berkeley's they have the character of appearances. But in truth, there is no sensible distinction between
the two; nor has the subtle mind of Kaut succeeded in pointing out any. Both insist that the external world is phenomenal, (not deception,) because our representations are mere
modifications of our sensibility, or sensitivity. There is no
room for any distinction between the two theories.
But it is remarkable, that both these philosophers have entirely departed from the theories which they have constructed.
Berkely makes our ideas, or representations, inert beings; and
there is an irreconcilable contradiction between the first part
of Kaut's work in which the external world is treated as mere




196                       ESSAYS.
representation, and a subsequent section in which he attempts
to demonstrate the existence of matter. "I am conscious of my
existence (says Kaut) as determined in time; every determination of time, presupposes something permanent in the perception; but as this cannot be a representation, it must be
something external to me."  The argument is of equal, if not
of greater force, to prove a spiritual, rather than of a material
substance. Berkeley's ideas, as they reside in God, must be
exterior to us, and different from our sensations: they are
more in contradiction with the Ideal theory, than the something permanent of Kaut; for although they reside in God,
they are inert beings. But the greatest discrepancy in the
system of Kaut, is in the seventh section of the second book.
This section proposes to unravel the apparently inexplication
contradictions contained in the antinomies. There is no contradiction whatever, says this subtle reasoner; the thesis, and
the anti-thesis, are both false; for the universe which they
treat as a substantive existence, as "chose en soi" is pure
phenomenon.  Suppress the notion  of substantive existence, and the contradiction, immediately disappears. As the
idealty of the external world, was before attempted to be
proved, by the complete subjectivity of our sensations, it is
now attempted to be proved a posteriori, by the absolute contradiction, which results from the supposition, that the universe is something external to us. This he declares, is a convincing, and an entirely new argument for the ideality of the
material world. It is generally the case, that an author of
great logical subtlety, is able in some way or other, to conceal
the contradictions which exist in his own work. But it sometimes baffles the utmost ingenuity to do this. The section
which undertakes to prove the existence of something permanent, out of the mind, revives all the contradictions contained
in the antinomies. Those contradictions flow from the supposition, that the material universe has an independent existence; and precisely the same difficulty occurs, the moment we
suppose the existence of any thing permanent, out of the
mind. It would have this effect, if this permanent, were a
spiritual substance. It clearly has it, if it is a material
substance.




ESSAYS.                      197
One great design of the "Critic of Pure leason" is to trace
the limits of our knowledge; to ascertain, if I may so speak,
the boundary between the knowable, and the unknowable.
But how is it possible to execute even this, the most modest,
and unpretending effort of the human mind. We know not
where our knowledge begins, or ends: to know where lie the
boundaries of our knowledge, would be to have all knowledge.
There is a remarkable quality belonging to two of our
senses. Sight, and touch, give, or appear to give us, precisely
the same notion of external objects. The extension, (superficial,) figure, motion, which are perceived by the sight, are
apprehended to be the same, as the notions of extension,
figure, and motion, which are conveyed by the touch. This is
not the case with the other senses. Tastes, sounds, odors, are
not felt to be like any quality, which is conveyed by the sight
or touch.  They are conceived as signs of the presence of
some objects of those senses, but never as identical with any
other sensation. The notion of externality, or outness, is
originally conveyed by the touch; and as the most material
properties conveyed by this sense, are apprehended to be the
same with those acquired by sight, we obtain a more distinct
knowledge of what we call matter, than would be possible, if
the sensations of sight were only considered as signs of the
sensations of touch. No taste, sound, or odor, is apprehended
to be the same with extension, figure, or motion: but visual
figure, extension, and motion, are apprehended to be the same
with tangible extension, figure, and motion. The same thing
which the touch apprehends as external, is the object of sight;
and on this is founded our notion of the existence of matter.
But there is no reason to believe that they are the same. The
sensations conveyed by the sight, are signs of those conveyed
by the touch; and vice versa, precisely as sounds, odors, and
tastes, are signs of visible, and tangible objects. But there
is an intricacy attending the two first, a difficulty in separating
them, which does not belong to the last. Whenever the haman mind is able effectually, to make the separation, the problem of the existence of matter, will not be so difficult of solution.
I do not know whether it has occurred to any one, that on
supposition, that matter has a real existence, and that sensation, and perception, are the result of a modification of matter,




198                     ESSAYS.
the same difficulties will exist, as on the supposition, that a
spiritual substance alone, or a spiritual and material substance
both existed. Our sensations, and perceptions, the result of
this modification, would still be all with which we should be
acquainted. Our being acquainted with them alone, is then
no reason for affirming that they alone exist. Our knowledge
may be shaped, or determined by our ideas; but we are under
no necessity of admitting, or supposing, that they exclude the
existence of every thing else. If my sensations, perceptions,
&c., are all which have existence, because they are all of
which I am cognizant, there is not only no external world, nor
any other percipient being; but I myself as substance, either
spiritual or material, can have no existence.
ESSAY   I.
CAUSE AND EFFECT.
I was once asked by a very inquisitive and intelligent person, whether I was a believer in the system of Locke, or of
Kaut; to which I very naturally, but unexpectedly replied;
that there was no such thing extant, as a system of philosophy; that no mind had yet been able to construct a scheme
of thought deserving that name. - The utmost which has been
done, the utmost which we are entitled to expect from the
human mind, with its limited faculties, are hints, reasonable
conjectures, with regard to the mysterious nature of our being:
but as to a system, which presupposes the power of piercing
through that nature, and only needs the inferior faculty of
setting the materials thus acquired, in order; it has not yet
been given to the human mind to execute one.
In the preface to his great work, Kaut gives us the clue to
his scheme of thought. Hitherto he says, the phenomena of
mind, have been supposed to be governed and determined,




ESSAYS.                      199
by the external world. The Ptolenmaic theory, made the sun
turn round the earth, instead of the earth turning round the
sun. A true philosophy would imitate the example of Copernicus, who made the sun the centre of the system. We must
regard the sensible world as governed, and moulded by mind,
instead of the mind being governed, and moulded by it. There
is something singularly striking in this thought, that mind
gives laws to matter, instead of matter to mind. It would
not be so great a departure from opinions generally held, if
the author had not pushed his theory to the utmost extreme
of which it is capable. To say that the perception of external objects, and the laws which rule over them, are modified
by the percipient principle, would announce a principle which
is incontestible: but the author goes immeasurably beyond
this, and maintains, that the material world, together with all
the laws which govern it, are purely subjective, and the creation of the mind itself. This principle is applied directly, to
the solution of the great problem of cause and effect. Causality is purely subjective, as much so as tastes and colors: we
are not merely cognizant of the principle, through the instrumentality of our faculties, but it is the creature of the mind
itself: And this follows as a necessary consequence, from his
general doctrine, that the material universe is purely phenominal.
That every effect must have a cause, is an identical proposition.  Effect presupposes a cause, and cause includes
within it the idea of effect. The proposition is an abstract
one; but it cannot be true in the abstract, unless it is true in
every particular instance; unless in other words, in every possible event, the effect is preceded by a cause. If in particular instances, the connection was purely arbitrary, so that it
would be uncertain whether an effect would proceed from a
given cause, we should never be able to acquire the general
principle; every effect must have a cause. The proposition
in the concrete therefore, a particular effect, must follow a
particular cause; or under precisely the same circumstances,
a given effect will forever follow a certain cause, must also be an
identical proposition. A general proposition cannot be true,
unless the particulars included within it are true. But this is
not the view which philosophers have taken. That every effect
must have a cause, is denominated an absolute, and necessary




200                      ESSAYS.
principle; but that in any one instance a particular effect follows a given cause, is treated as a contingent principle, only.
What is the reason of this distinction; for there is a reason
for all things. It evidently proceeds from our uncertainty in
any particular instance, whether we are acquainted with all
the circumstances which go to make up the notion of cause;
and consequently, whether on any future experiment, precisely
the same circumstances will exist. The moon has invariably
risen every day for the last six thousand years; but we cannot predict that it will rise every day for a twelvemonth, or
even that it will rise to-morrow. The machinery of the universe is so immense, and so completely withdrawn from our
view, that we are in total ignorance, whether in less than
twenty-four hours, a new train of causes may not begin to
oI)erate. Still, it is manifest, that the two propositions, the
past event was, and the new event, if it happens, are each
indissolubly connected with its cause, are as certain, as the
general proposition; every effect must hav.e a cause. The
coming to pass of a different event, instead of weakening our
conviction of the connection between cause and effect, confirms it. The old event, ceases to take place, because a new
cause, or train of causes, has begun to operate; and if a different effect did not take place, the connection between cause
and effect would be arbitrary, and not certain. All this is
true, with regard to the minutest, as well as the greatest
events. Our senses inform us of the event; but they do not
disclose to us the cause which brings it about. If we had a
greater number of senses, or if those we possess were much
sharper than they are, a field of knowledge would be laid
open to us, to which we are total strangers, and of which we
cannot even form a conjecture. A dose of medicine produces
one effect at one time, and a different one at another. A
wasting epidemic prevails this year, and the next is one of
unusual health; although so far as our observation extends,
the air is neither more pure; nor more temperate, during the
one, than the other. This however never shakes our conviction ot the truth of the proposition; every effect must have
a cause; nor does it make us hesitate to say; each particular
event has been brought about by an adequate cause, and no
other event could have taken place. That I am ignorant of




ESSAYS.                      201
the nature, or even the existence of a great variety of causes,
does not impair the truth of the proposition, but adds force to
it; for it explains what would otherwise be inexplicable; that
when the causes are apparently the same, the effects are notwithstanding different.
The notion of causality, says Kaut, cannot be derived from
experience, because it is accompanied with a character of
necessity, and experience can only give us empirical truths.
The notion therefore is a priori: this is the only foundation of
necessary truths. It is remarkable, that this bold and yet
cautious thinker, never makes use of the ternm innate ideas.
To revive that obsolete term, would expose his theory to
great difficulties. But the doctrine is revived, although the
term  is suppressed.  The ambiguous term a priori, is employed; which may either denote, that a truth is stamped
upon the mind at birth; or that after the faculties are developed, it is recognized as self-evident. But the last is not the
sense in which the author uses the term. To derive the perception of a truth from analysis, and generalization of the objects of sense, would make it dependent upon experience; a
process which (according to him,) would be fatal to all necessary truths. It is to be regretted, that he has not told us in
what respect his theory differs from that of innate ideas. If
he had declared, that all a priori truths were engraven upon
the mind at birth, the proposition would be exposed to insuperable objections. If he had said, these truths first make
their appearance in the mind, after the child has grown to
adult years, it would be using the term in the sense as the
great majority of philosophers employ it; but it would be inconsistent with his whole scheme of thought. The use of a
term of such uncertain meaning, as a priori, gives ready admission to a doctrine, which is at once bold and original; that
truths derive their character of immutability, and necessity,
floma the fact that they are purely subjective. Kaut objects
to iMr. Hlume's account of the origin of our notion of cause
and effect; that if it is derived from experience, mathematical truths must be derived in the same way; a conclusion
from which so acute a mind would have instantly recoiled.
I do not believe however, that Mr. Hume would have any
reason to be alarmed at the consequences of his reasoning:




202                     ESSAYS.
for, if relations do exist between certain numbers and quantities, independently of our perception of them, there is no
way in which we can acquire a knowledge of them, but by
experience. This term has a philosophical, as well as a vulgar meaning. It may denote the acquisition of mere facts,
as in children and ignorant persons; or it may denote the acquisition of truths from a comparison, and analysis of facts.
I do not perceive any more difficulty in deriving our perception of mathematical truths from the exercise of our faculties
about quantities, and numbers, than in deriving that of cause and
eflect, from  our experience of the constant conjunction of
cause and effect.
If we admit that time and space reside only in the mind;
we will undoubtedly be obliged to admit, that all the things
contained in them, also reside in the mind, and by necessary
consequence, that all our knowledge is purely subjective and
ideal. But this theory is unintelligible. Instead of a material or intellectual world, there would be nothing but representations: but representations are inconceivable, unless there
is at least a subject to whom they appear. There must then
be an existence of some kind, in addition to our representations. Kaut pursues his reasoning to its logical consequences,
and plainly declares, that both mind and matter are phenomenal, and thait the existence of either, as substance, is not merely
problematical, but inconceivable and impossible. When the
consequences of a reasoning, are such as to destroy the foundation on which the reasoning rests, the reasoning must be regarded as a mere play of dialectical subtlety. INor are we permitted
to distinguish, as Mr. flume does, between speculation and
practice; affirming, that in the affairs of life, matter and mind
must be taken to have a substantive existence; but that in
speculation, they have none.
Let us then return to the only reasonable, and consistent
scheme, and inquire whether on supposition, that the external
world has a real existence; and that the notion of causality
is not a priori, or innate, the connection between cause and
effect may not be necessary. I have said, that the proposition, every effect must have a cause, is an identical one; for
cause presupposes an effect, and effect presupposes a cause.
But Kaut divides all propositions into analytical (identical)




ESSAYS.                     203
and synthetical, and ranges causality under the second. He
denies therefore, that the notion of an effect implies that of
cause: we are obliged, says he, to travel beyond the effect, in
order to reach the notion of cause. The proposition, all
bodies are extended, is an analytical one; because body ineluding the notion of extension, we are not obliged to go beyond the subject, in order to reach the predicate. There is
however no difference between the two: the term effect, would
be as unmeaning and inconceivable, if it did not imply a
cause, as the term body would be, if it did not imply extension. It is true, that in every particular instance of cause and
effect, we regard separately, the two bodies which are denominated, the one cause, and the other effect. But this does not
prove, that the proposition, which announces the invariable
dependence of an effect upon a cause, is not an analytical one.
It explains the process by which we obtain the idea, but not
the character of the idea itself. As according to him, much
the greater number of propositions are synthetical, and not
analytical, he was led to examine, how it is, that the former,
as well as the latter, may possess a character of absolute
necessity. It is in consequence of certain conceptions, (categories) being a priori in the mind. This property stamps upon the objects to which the conceptions correspond, the character of necessity. Although all objects are considered as
mere representations, and these are obtained through the
sensitivity, yet the conceptions which originate in the understanding, and are therefore foreign to the sensitivity, are conceptions of objects in general. Thus our a priori notions,
have always something corresponding to them in the world of
sensibility, and are able to endow certain properties and relations of external objects (phenomena) with a character of absolute necessity. The system is open to this fatal objection:
as the character of necessity which is stamped upon certain
notions, is derived from their complete subjectivity, the same
character must belong to our sensations, since they also are
purely subjective; and there would then be no empirical, but
only necessary truths. But says the author, we cannot conceive of time and space as being annihilated, although we can
conceive of the annihilation of the things contained in time
and space. But all outward objects, equally with time and




204                      ESSAYS.
space, are purely subjective, merely modifications of our
sensibility; and all three will be annihilated in the same way,
to wit: by the annihilation of all sentient beings. The author
founds the idea of necessity upon the complete subjectivity of
certain notions; but all our notions and perceptions, whether
originating in the sensibility or understanding, are completely
subjective: it follows therefore that all our knowledge, and all
the propositions growing out of it, should be accompanied
with the same character of necessity.
As then the doctrine that every thing is phenomenon, and
nothing subject, or object, is full of abscurity, and affords no
explanation, why some of our notions are accompanied with a
character of necessity, while others are merely empirical; let
us see, whether the contrary hypothesis will not give a different result; whether on supposition, that bodies have a real
existence, some at least of their properties, and relations, may
not have a character of necessity stamped upon them. It is
impossible they should not. For the only conception which
can be formed of matter, is that it is something which has a
substantive existence, and which has attributes. The two are
indeed inseperable; but I prefer to distinguish them, because
it facilitates the analysis. But these attributes must have a
certain character, otherwise, they would be not merely phantasms, but nonentites, and could not in any sense, be an object of knowledge. But to say, that bodies have certain attributes, and that both have a character or nature, is equivalent to saying that they will make an impression on sentient
beings, and awaken ideas in them; and this is equivalent to
saying, that they must have this effect. For by the supposition, bodies have existence, and beings capable of having an
impression of their attributes also exist. This would be true,
if all bodies, together with the attributes which belonged to
them, were precisely alike. Having certain attributes, they
must produce an impression, and awaken ideas in sentient beings; otherwise, these beings would not be sentient, and percipient. To say that they might produce different impressions,
would be to assert that they possess attributes, different from
those which they really possess. Bodies cannot possess, and
not possess, at one and the same time, certain definite proporties. But bodies are not alike internally; and sentient beings




ESAYS.                       205
must themselves, be included in the list of bodies; and they
also are not internally alike. Bodies must therefore make
upon sentient beings, not only an impression, but an impression as different as the bodies themselves. For if they did
not, it would contradict the supposition that their attributes
are different. Provided therefore, we were in all instances, able
to penetrate into the qualities of bodies, the operation, or effect, of those qualities, would be perceived to be necessary;
otherwise they would not have those qualities, nor would percipient beings be able to perceive. That we are not able to
penetrate so far, does not prove, that the effects produced by
bodies, are not necessary, but only, that we do not perceive
them to be so. For the moment we admit, that bodies exist,
and have definite properties, there is no room for the supposition that the effects produced by either may be arbitrary;
for the effects produced by bodies, must depend upon their
nature and attributes; as these are the only cause in existence
in the case. But bodies are not only internally different, but
they are so externally also; that is, they occupy different
parts of space; and here also, sentient corporeal beings must
be included. But as a difference in the internal constitution
of bodies lays the foundation for what we call their properties, or attributes, so a difference in the parts of space they
occupy gives rise to their relations.  And these relations
must also be necessary. If the senses of sight, and touch,
bave a certain limit, it will be impossible to see, or to touch
an object which is removed millions of miles from us. If it
were possible, sentient beings must be differently constructed
from what they are: a supposition however, to which there
can be no objection. For the necessity of making them different, in order to produce different effect, is an admission,
that as long as they are unchanged, the effect could not take
place. If this were not the case, our faculties, although they
have a certain limit, would be able to surpass that limit,
which is a contradiction: for it would be saying, that the same
thing can be, and not be, at one and the same time, the reverse of which even Kant admits to be an analJ tical or identical proposition. But for the same reason, that a difference in
the internal constitution of bodies, and a difference in the
parts of space they occupy, will, and must produce different




206                      ESSAYS.
impressions, or none at all, upon percipient beings; the same
difference will cause bodies to produce different effects upon
each other. The denial of it, would involve us in the same
contradiction as before.
The difference between the relations of bodies to each other,
and their relations to human beings, is of the greatest importance, as it lays the foundation for the distinction between
mathematical, and other truths. Where bodies both act upon
each other, and also upon sentient beings, their relations must
be much more complicated, than when they only act upon
sentient beings. In the first case, these relations may be
double, quadruple, a thousand times more numerous, than in
the latter. The consequence is, that the last, together with
the truths deducible from them, will have infinitely more simplicity than the first. When we enquire into the effect produced by the mixture of two bodies, we are involved in the
inquiry, what is the structure of the minute parts of which
each is composed. Until we ascertain this, it is impossible to
know, what under all circumstances of time, and space, may
be the result: for not knowing their internal constitution, or
properties, we cannot know the effect they may produce on
each other. To discover that, is a work of the greatest difficulty, as is proved by the fact, that the researches of chemists,
are continually opening new views of the inward constitution
of matter, and that the farther these researches are pushed,
the difficulty of penetrating into it, becomes greater, and
greater.
But with regard to mathematical truths, the case is entirely
different. In the investigation of them, we are not obliged
first, to inquire into the secret qualities of matter, and then to
find out the numberless relations which these occasion to each
other, in order to ascertain their relations to ourselves. The
whole of this preliminary and complicated inquiry, would be
as useless as it is impossible. That the three angles of a triangle, are equal to two right angles, that every point in the
circumference of a circle, is equidistant from the centre, are
truths, which have no dependence upon the inward constitution of matter, nor to the operation of different parts of matter upon one another. They simply express those relations
which certain figures have to our percipient faculties. That




ESSAYS.                     207
this should make a difference in the degree of clearness which
exists, between mathematical, and other truths, is inevitable:
for we not only exclude all that part of the inquiry which is
complicated in the extreme, we exclude all inquiry into that,
which it transcends our faculties to find out. It is no wonder
that in the philosophy of Gassendi, and Locke, these ideas
should be denominated modes; ideas which have no archetypes without; for in the consequence of their extreme simplicity, they appear to be creations of the mind. But even
mathematical principles, are only capable of being made clear.
Time, and study, are requisite for the discovery of the greater
number of them; but when demonstrated, they have a character of the utmost clearness. Nevertheless, like the principle
of causality, they were both true, and necessary, before the discovery was made.
When we wander beyond the consideration of pure numbers, and quantities, and apply mathematical principle to
physics, we become immediately involved in an inquiry into
the relations of bodies to each other, and into the intimate
structure of their parts. The principles which we then deduce, are as little clear and as difficult to be reduced to the
character of necessary truths, as are the principles of any department of moral science. This explains, where, lies the difference between mathematical, and other principles. According to Kaut, the former are infinitely clearer than the last,
because we stand in no need of experience, in order to arrive
at a knowledge of them. But they only seem to be acquired
before experience, because the experience which is acquired,
is so exceedingly small, a life-time of experience, is not suf
ficient to make us acquainted with the minute structure of the
most inconsiderable piece of matter; but by merely drawing
a diagram on a board, we can arrive at a certain knowledge of
mathematical truths.
There is then no necessity for a new, and unheard of faculty,
denominated by Kaut, pure intuition, or sensibility, which by
giving us on a priori, or innate knowledge of space, renders
all the properties of the figures describable in space, clear, and
absolutely certain. If the things contained in space, as well
as space itself, are mere representations, all our knowledge
should be accompanied with apodictic certainty. A notion is




208                      ESSAYS.
a priori, according to the author, because it is purely subjective: but in his philosophy, all our notions are subjective, and
there is no roomn therefore, for empirical truths. I say, that
empirical truths, are those which are learned by experience, is
not to elucidate, but to contradict the whole theory. For all
experience according to him is composed of knowledge which
is purely subjective.
But if the external world has an existence out of, and inde
pendent of mind, where is the difficulty of conceiving that the
senses, with the help of the intellectual faculties, may be sufficient to give us all the knowledge which we possess of the
properties of matter. Kaut in an elaborate chapter, attempts
to derive the necessary, and immutable, character of the principle of causality, from one of the original conceptions, or categories of the understanding. But at the close, he is compelled
to acknowledge, that in no instance have we an a priori
knowledge, why a cause produces its effect. "To attain this
knowledge we must be acquainted with the motive forces
of nature."  The a priori principle then, is of no. more avail,
than are our faculties without it. The author, notwithstanding his theory of the complete subjectivity of the principle of
causality, is obliged to lay the principle stress, upon the objective succession of events. The necessity which he is under,
in resorting to experience, in its ordinary signification, reduces his doctrine to the same as that of Locke, Hume, and
Brown; for there is no substantial difference in the views of
the three last. "In order to understand, why a cause produces
its effect, we must have a knowledge of the motive powers of
bodies;" is the language of Ktaut. In order to have this
knowledge, says Mr. Locke, we must be acquainted.with the
secret properties of matter. And say Mr. Hume, and Dr.
Brown, it is because we have not this knowledge, that we derive our notion of causality, from experience, that is from observing the invariable conjunction of antecedent, and conssquent. All these philosophers agree, that we are in an entire
ignorance what it is, which constitutes the efficient cause of
any event. It is of no avail then to say (Critique v. 1. p. 294,)
that the form, the condition under which, one event succeeds to
another, may be viewed as a priori, relatively to the law of
causality. The law of causality, instead of being an innate
principle, is itself deduced from an observation of the invari



ESSAYS.                       209
able coincidence of events. So much so, that if on the
thousandth experiment, we should find the effect to fail the
law would fall to the ground,  The law is then the result of a
generalization of facts. If the circumstances which constitute
our experience are invariably the same, the law will be unerring.
And this deduction of the principle, does not detract from
the certainty and clearness of our knowledge. If bodies have
an existence out of Athe mind, they must have certian properties and relations: to suppose otherwise, is as unintelligible
as to suppose bodies without extension. It is plain then, that
our senses, together with our faculties of understanding, may
enable us to find out the connection between cause and effect,
to the same extent, we should do without the assisteaee of an
innate notion of causality. All our knowledge, is conformable with the first, and is in contradiction to the last hypot.hesis.
ESSAY VIIo
DISTINCTION BETWEEN THE AFFECTIVE AND INT'ELLEOTUAL
FACULTIES.
This is an une xplored subject, for the distinction between
the active and intellectual faculties, has been taken for granted, and no one enquires into the reason and validity of a
principle, which is universally conceded. A thought and a
feeling, appear to be totally different acts: and this difference
may really exist, although we may not be under the necessity
of saying that a thought is not a feeling. Every thought may
be a feeling, althoung  every feeling may not be a thought:
and still, we are not at liberty, to make a radical, and absolute
distinction, between thought and feeling. Insects and reptiles
have feelings, and yet they have not understanding. Their
feelings however, are not like those of beings who have understanding.  No one has a thought, without its being accom14




210                       ESSAY~S.
panied by a feeling; and it is worth while to inquire, whether
the feeling is something different from the thought, and only
associated with it, or whether in truth, the thought is not the
feeling. Feelings may be of very various kinds; but that
tdocs not shed any light upon the question; for the acts of the,understanding, are also of various kinds. I learn that an
event has taken place, which will bring upon me a great mis-:fortune; and immediately I am tormented with the most cruel
feelings. These feelings succeed the intellectual act, the per-.ception, or knowledge of the event, and are not a part of it;
-but feelings follow feelings, and the first in the order of time,
are not the same, but may be very different from those which.succeed. That a particular train of feelings, follows what we
call an act of the understanding, is therefore no proof that
there is an essential distinction between feeling and understanding. To learn an event, is to be conscious of it, and to
be conscious is to feel: and vice versa, to feel is to be conscious of the feeling. What we call understanding, may be
one sort of feeling, differing in degree, or even in kind, from
-what are commonly called feelings. Certainly, the feelings
which the pursuit of an abstract science awakens, are very.different from  those which accompany acts of debauchery.'The feelings in both instances, correspond as they should do,
with the nature of the things pursued; and it still remains
umcertain, whether the acts of the understanding, may not be:ranged under the class of feelings. No one supposes, that the
feeling of taste, or touch is the same with the feeling of:shame and pride  And for the same reason, no one can affirm,,that the perception of a truth, is identical with either the one,or the other. Nevertheless, every act of perception, or intellection, is not merely accompanied, or followed by a feeling,
but is itself a feeling. If another set of feelings are associ-:ated with, or succeed it, that is the case with all other feelings. That the senses of sight and hearing, may be followed
by the most pleasurable feelings, joy, hope, gratitude, or by
the most painful, sorrow, grief, despair, is not deemed sufficient
to draw a line between them. Both are considered as belonging to the affective, or pathematic part of our nature. The
senses, the appetites, the passions, the sentiments, are all
ranged under this head, although all these are different in




ESSAYS.                       211
kind or degree. What then prevents our placing the affective,
and intellectual faculties, in one and the same class. It cannot be because they differ from each other in some respects,
for the senses, appetites, and sentiments, are all different the
one from the other. The true view would seem to be, that beings who possess understanding, are on that account, endowed
with an additional class of feelings; that is, that acts of intellection constitute one class of feelings, and those of sense,
the appetites or the passions, other classes. For it is impossible to deny, that every act of intellection, is indissolubly connected with a feeling. This feeling is not the same with the
smell of a rose, the taste of sugar, or the sense of hunger, but
it is not the less a feeling on that account.
The distinction between the affective, and intellectual faculties, is connected with the history of ethical opinions. The
theories of Clarke, Cudworth, Woolaston, &c., make morality
reside in the understanding, while those of Hutchinson,
Shaftesbury, and Adam  Smith, found it [on sentiment. The
former are supposed to place morality upon a less secure
foundation than the last. If we are to wait, (it is said,) for
the understanding to be convinced, before we love virtue, we
may never be virtuous, or our virtue will be of a cold and formal character. But this is merely confounding differentt acts
of the understanding. The perception of an abstract truth,
is confounded with the perception of a concrete truth. No
one pretends, that the perception of the immutable morality,
or the utility of the rules of morality, is the same with the
perception of the beauty and propriety of moral acts. The
one is obtained by a process of analysis, and generalization,
the other is not.
The making morality reside in a peculiar sense, or sentiment, for they mean substantially the same thing, would
rather seem to place morality on a less, instead of a more
firm foundation; for either this sense, or sentiment is dumb,
or else it is a percipient faculty. It cannot be the last, it is
said(, because that would range it under the head of the intellectual faculties. It must then be the first, and the consequence is, that we are blindly impelled to acts of virtue, and
as blindly to acts of vice. The term sense which was made
use of by Hutchinson, has been superceded lby that of senti



212                      IEssAYs.
mento  The invention of a new word, seems to imply, that the
thing which it signifies, is different from that which the old
word suggested. And thus in consequence of a mere verbal
ambiguity, a theory which would otherwise be exposed to the
most formidable objections, is supposed to be entirely free of
them. If on the contrary, our sentiments of virtue and vice,
are essentially perceiving acts, if in all cases, the feeling is
identical with the consciousness of the feeling, we shall be led
to virtuous acts, and to the avoidance of vicious ones, by an
intelligent faculty, instead of by blind impulse. If we make
the moral sense a percipient faculty, it will not follow, that we
can only become cognizant of virtue, after we have gone
through a long train of reasoning. The reasoning only generalizes and reduces to unity, a great number of particulars.
It is so far only, diffe3rent from these acts in detail. The perception of a triangle, is not the same with the truth of the
proposition, that its angles are equal to two right angles.
And although the perception by one individual, of the beauty
and excellence of virtuous acts, and the perception of the
truth, that virtue invariably and universally has this character, should be ascribed to one and the same faculty, it would
not follow, that the operations of that faculty, are in all respects precisely the same. But if the sense or sentiment, excited by a virtuous act in the abstract, is a percipient act, I
do not see how it can be denied, that the sense or sentiment
of virtuous acts singly, is so also. The only difference is,
that in the former, actions are viewed collectively, that is, are
generalized, and in the last, they are viewed singly. Sometimaes also, (but not always,) single actions produce a more
vivid impression, than actions in the abstract, but this is not
in consequence of the sentiment being less percipient, but
only in consequence of the first touching us more nearly. It
is iln reality, in consequence of the sentiment being more percipient of the particular effects, although less so of the general results. In both instances, a feeling, and's percipient
act may be detected, although the feeling in the one, is of a
different character, from what it is in the other. The pain
arising from a broken limb, is different from that produced by
the loss of a fortune or reputation, but they are very correctly
placed in the same class of psechycological phenomena. It is




ESSAYS.                       213
from confounding perceptions, or feelings in the abstract, with
feelings and perceptions in the concrete, that the whole difficulty has arisen. If we were intimately acquainted with the
last, our organs of perception, and feeling, would not appear
to be so different. Nevertheless, there is no radical distinction,
between the sentiment of virtuous actions, and the sentiment
of virtue in the general.
The distinction between the effective, and intellectual faculties, has had great influence upon the speculations of philosophers, relative to the great question of freedom and necessity.
The will and the understanding, are regarded as totally different faculties.  The advocates of necessity, by making the
will the mere servant of the understanding, easily succeeded
in proving that the first is governed by necessary laws; for it
does no more than execute the dictates of the understanding.
The advocates of liberty, more inconsequent in their reasoning, adhere to the distinction, and yet make the acts of the
will go behind the understanding. For if the first is a selfdeterraining faculty, it must either govern the understanding,
or be entirely independent of it. The distinction of two faculties however, does not shed any light upon the question. The
acts of the will, says Mr. Locke, are necessary, because they
implicitly obey the dictates of the understanding, but the m an
is free. But suppose the acts of the understanding are themselves governed by necessary laws, how can the man, any
more than the will be free. And if as another school of philosophers have asserted, the will goes behind the understanding, so as to determine all our percipient, and effective acts, it
must. itself be governed by necessary laws, or by no law.
And in this instance, as well as in the first, neither the man,
nor the will, can be free. But although the distinction between
the will and understanding, is of no importance in the inquiry
into the question of freedom and necessity, it has contributed
greatly to obscure the whole subject. The advocates of necessity, approached the truth, without being aware of it, but have
involved themselves in a dilemma, equally with their antagonists.  Volitions in truth are only overt manifestations of
thoughts or feelings: we do not call them volitions, but passions, affections, or dictates of the understanding, if they are
not carried into effect: but this can make no difference in the
nature of the faculty which precedes these acts. Our thoughts




214                      ESSAYS.
or feelings, frequently have no outward tendency or direction,
but terminate in themselves, as in the case of meditation, or
the indulgence in a sentiment: and very frequently also,
physical obstacles oppose themselves to their gratification, or
outward manifestation. But these are circumstances purely
adventitious: they may or may not co-exist with the interior acts,
and therefore can have no influence in determining the nature
of the last. It has been my design to show, that the feeling
which is supposed to be only associated with the percipient
act, is in reality a part of it, or more precisely, that it is the
percipient act itself.
The reason why we suppose the affective part of our nature
to be non-percipient, is that we refer all its manifestations to
different organs of the body, while we invariably refer all intellectual acts, to the brain exclusively. Thus the senses and
appetites, are obviously connected with parts of the body,
which are more or less remote from the brain. This is even
the case with the affections and passions, which are commonly supposed to reside in the heart. But if the brain were obliterated, the human being would at one and the same time,
be deprived of both feeling and perception. The various organs to which I have referred, are only the instruments
through which the brain acts, or over which it simply diffuses
its influence; but they are no more the seat of feeling than of
intellection. And this is a principle well understood by the
school of Gall and Spurzheim. But the phrenologist, and the
pschycologist, have hitherto pursued their researches apart;
and the consequence is, that the systems constructed by both,
are incomplete and mutilated. It is true, it will not follow
because all our faculties are ultimately referable to the brain,
that some of them may not be conceived of as percipient, and
others endowed with feelings which are not percipient. And
this is the view which physiologists, and phrenologists take.
But as soon as it was established, that the brain is the seat of
both intellect and feeling, the greatest difficulty is removed;
we are at least prepared to admit, that there can be no feeling
without intellection, and no intellection without feeling. And
when we consider that to have a feeling, is to be conscious of
it, that to be conscious of it, is to be percipient of it, the view I
have taken, acquires additional strength, and the identity of the




ESSAYS.                      215
affective, and percipient part ofi our nature, will be regarded
not merely as a reasonable hypothesis, but as a well founded
theory. ZNor is there any danger that the acute reader will not
distinguish between different percipient acts, and because some
are marked by a high, and others by a less degree of intelligence, that he will therefore persist in drawing a strait line
between them, and again call the former acts of intellection,
and the last mere feelings.
It may be supposed, that the present theory is little more
than an application of that of Condillac. For ingenuity is
quicker in discovering resemblances, than in detecting differences. There is a very great difference between the two
theories. I consider the brain as the immediate, and exclusive organ of that immaterial principle we call the mind, and
all our affective and intellectual acts, as manifestations of
that organ. The consequence is, that instead of acts of intellection, being transformed sensations, all our sensations,
together with the rest of the affective part of our nature, are
transformed intellections.
Nor must it be supposed, that the question is capable of being resolved into a mere verbal dispute. On the contrary, it
is one of vast importance, and of comprehensive application,
in ethical philosophy. Our faculties undoubtedly will not be
considered as all alike; they will continue to be ranged in
different classes, as they must be under any scheme of thought.
But they will all have one quality in common: they will all
be percipient, which at once draws a bold and well marked
distinction, between the old,and the present theory. I have
shown, that unless our affective acts, are also regarded as percipient, men in the practise of virtue, will be converted into
mere automata: their actions will be impelled by a blind impulse. I have also shown, that the view I have ta'ken has a
most important bearing, upon the great question of liberty
and necessity; that whether there is, or is not a well defined
distinction between the affective, and intellectual faculties, the
doctrine of necessity, will be placed upon equally sure foundations; but that by abolishing the distinction, the inquiry will
be greatly simplified, and the truth more apprehensible. By
making the will go before the understanding, the German
school have involved the question in extricable confusion: so




216                        ESSAYS.
much so, that the chief of that school, Kaut has been driven
to employ arguments which are absolutely contradictory. In
the same way, Leibn-itz in the Theodicee, confuses himself
with the distinction between moral and metaphysical necessity.  The Supreme Being he says, lies under a moral necessity of being holy, but he is bound by no metaphysical necessity, and can therefore commit acts which are unholy. But if
he is an infinitely holy and wise Being, the supposition that
he can be unholy, cramps, instead of enlarging the sphere of
his actions, and He ceases to be infinitely Wise nd holy. On
the other hand, the advocates of necessity, Edwards and Locke,
although they bind together the acts of the will, and understanding, so as to make the first flow with an infallible certainty, forom  the motives presented by the last, yet render it
uncertain, what is the nature of the understanding itself. By
placing three links in the chain, the percipient act, the will,
and the act done, the inquiry is obviously rendered less
silmple, than if we made use of but two, the percipient act,
and the thing done.
The view I have taken, sheds great light also, upon the
nature of that faculty which we denominate conscience.  Sir
James Mackintosh is the first ethical philosopher, who has attem]pted an analysis of it. The short sermon of Butler is full
of striking observations upon the subject; but it was no part
of the dlesign of that profound thinker, to give us an analysis
of the faculty. The term conscience is evidently a derivative
from consciousness, and indicates that it is a knowing, as well
as an affectlve faculty. The etymology of a word is sometimes a very uncertain guide to the nuderstanding of the
thing signified; but it alwalys reflects light upon the nature of
the last. No ethical inquirer has insisted so strongly upon the
importance of distinguishing between the knowing and the
feeling faculty: and he very consistently therefore, discards
the forneri as contributing to the elements, which go to the formation of conscience. The consequence is, that the concluding section of his work, in many respects so admirable, is exceedingly confused. He labors in the endeavor to show, that
this supreme faculty, which presides over all ounr thoughts
and actions, is made up exclusively of feelings; and the reader
rises from  the perusal, with a painful feeling of disappoint



ESSAYS.                       217
ment, at the obscurity and confusedness of the views, and
with a secret conviction that something is left out, which is
very important in order to complete the analysis. If a broad
line of distinction must be drawn, between the affective and
intellectual faculties, the author should have considered conscience as formed by the union of the reflex faculty of consciousness, with the various feelings he enumerates.  He
might have said, that this was the only instance in the economy of our nature, where this combination of feeling and intellect takes place. And in this way, his analysis would have
been complete. For it is obvious, that if the distinction exists,
there is no possible waiy of explaining, how it is, that conscience takes cognisance of all our thoughts and actions, and
is able to direct them, but by supposing, that the intellectual
faculty of reflex consciousness, is associated with our feelings,
and. thus forms a new compound, entirely different from the
elemnents which compose it. But this fine thinker, had set out
with the idea, that the distinction between thought and feeling 6" must never for a moment be lost sight of," and he has
voluntarily thrown aside, what should have been the corner
stone of the edifice he was endeavoring to build up. But if
our feelings are all of them  endowed with consciousness; if
in other words, they are percipient acts, differing only in the
degree of intensity which they respectively possess, the analysis of conscience will be rendered still more simple, than if
we considered it as the joint product of two distinct elements.
The reflex act, by which I am made conscious of the subjective self, and by which I am enabled to separate all objective
phenomena from the I,- the ego, is an affective, and percipient
act; and in consequence of this two-fold character, is able
knowingly, to feel the relations, and consequences of our
actions. Tha.t brutes go straight forward to the performance
of tlheir actions, without giving any signs of this reflex faculty,
is no argument against the view I have taken: it is even irrelevant to the question. It is admitted, that they have no
sense of the moral qualities of actions, and it is equally true,
that they have no understanding of the consequences of them.
But if they are wanting in both, it will follow, that they do
not possess either the affective or intellectual part of our
nature, as human beings possess them, and not that they pos



218                      ESSAYS.
sess the first, and are deficient in the last. The true view is,
that their affective qualities depend upon their nature, and is
proportioned to them; and this instead of weakening, contributes greatly to reinforce the theory I have attempted to establish. Brutes have no feeling of the moral propriety or
impropriety of their actions; and they are therefore unable,
by a train of reasoning, to deduce any conclusions on the
subject. The last defect, is a necessary consequence of a defect in the first. If their feelings were percipient, or their
perceptions were endowed with a moral sense, they would at
one and the same time, both feel and understand the moral
propriety of their actions; and the various consequences of
their actions in the general, would be as easy for them to
seize, as it is for us. That they are differently formed, shows
that they are without the higher feelings, as well as without
the higher acts of intellection which belong to man; and that
they are without the one, precisely because they are without
the other. It is because they are denied these distinguishing
attributes, that they cannot be said to possess reason. They
possess percipient faculties, and they possess affective ones,
different in kind from ours: and these, joined to the dumb,
and mysterious faculty of instinct, have led those whose
powers of analysis, are not very searching, to invent specious
arguments in favor of their possessing reason.




ESSAYS.                     219
ESSAY VIII.
THE SUN AS THE SOURCE OF LIGHT AND HEAT.
Mental philosophy, or what is commonly termed metaphysics, has been sometimes reproached as a barren science,
which is unable to teach us anything with regard to causes,
or the nature of things; the two subjects, about which the
curiosity of mankind is most inquisitive, and the understanding of which, we would, at first, suppose should constitute the
foundation of all the higher departments of knowledge. But
physical science is open to the same objection. All the great
problems which lie at the foundation of it, are to this day unsolved. A wall of adamant is built around the science, which
repels every effort to penetrate, or to leap over it. We are so
surrounded by the objects of sense, that we are almost involuntarily employed in making observations concerning them.
But these, even after they become a distinct study, never
reach further than proximate causes. These observations are
collected by philosophers, reduced to order, and constructed
into various, and very different systems. But these, as their
great difference proves, teach us no more than mental philosophy has been supposed to do. They amount to very little
more than a species of natural history, very much condensed
but imparting to us no more knowledge with regard to principles, than the philosophy of mind. Thus the metaphysics of
physics, which contains all the secrets of physical science, and
which the human mind is perpetually in search of, is as completely excluded from our investigation as the metaphysics of
mind. WVe imagine that we know more with regard to the
former, because the phenomena are so numerous, and constantly strike upon our senses. But these phenomena are
mere facts, and with the mere classification of these, and the
deduction of some proximate causes, we are obliged to be satisfied. We dignify these with the name of science, not because
we know more, but because we see more.
This defect of physical science is not a reproach; but in the




220                      ESSAYS.
actual state of our faculties, a great merit. The induction of
facts, and their generalization afterwards, is the true basis of
all our knowledge. A  great number of the phenomena, of
mind, are placed beyond our reach; but as great, if not a
greater number of those of matter, are withdrawn from our
scrutiny. Those who were engaged in the investigation of
these two branches of knowledge, have always pursued the
same maethod; and that method in each has only been rmore
prolific, in proportion to the number of new facts brought to
light. Physics was, for a very long period, as scholastic a
science as mental philosophy once was —astrology, and alchemy
at one time made up our knowledge of material phenomena:
and it was from these, that, by very slow degrees, the two important sciences of astronomy and chemistry have sprang.
Up to the latter part of the seventee-nth century, mental philosophy and astronomy, had made equal progress, while chemistry still lagged behind. For more than one hundred years
after that period, mental philosophy was entirely in advance
of chemistry. Since then, the human mind has been comparatively inactive with regard to the first, and exceedingly
active in exploring the last.
These observations have been suggested, by turning over
in my mind, from time to time, the difficulties which attend
all the received theories concerning the nature and tra nsamission of light and heat. Most naturalists have suppose(], that
these elements are exceedingly minute particles of matter.
Heat and light, then, come from the sun in eight minutes and
a few seconds. Other naturalists, perceiving the insurmountable difficulties which attend this theory, suppose that heat
and light are only properties or qualities of matter. But they
only evade the difficulty by an ingenious use of terms. For
though they were only properties, or qualities, they can only
effect our senses, in consequence of the things of which they
are properties, in some way or other reaching us.
Ist. The time, and consequent velocity, with which these
minute particles are supposed to move are absolutely unconceivable: so much so, that we would suppose the, most ambitious philosopher would at once exclaim; the thing is unsearchable, and all efforts to pry into it must be vain and fruitless.
It is the more remarkable, that the velocity of heat and light




ESSAYS.                       221
should constantly be spoken of, or tacitly understood, when
another theory totally inconsistent with it, has been supposed
to be equally well established, and has been as generally assented to, during the last two centuries. I allude to the distinction between the primary and secondary qualities of matter, the first of which are alone considered as external to us,
and therefore entitled to be denominated matter, while the
last, heat and light, for instance are treated as mere sensations; that is, as qualities of mind. These two theories stand
by side of each other, are both considered incontrovertible
by the same nminds, and yet are absolutely contradictory and repugnant, the one to the other. Philosophers continue to speak
of radiation and velocity of heat, and light, precisely as if
they were among the primary qualities of matter: and yet,
when interrogated, instantly forget themselves, and admit,
that they are only secondary qualities: that is, not even
properties, of matter,' but mere affections of the mind, and
that consequently they can have no existence out of the mind.
This is only an additional proof of the surpassing difficulty
of the subject, and would persuade us to abstain from all such
speculations, if there were not something noble, even in our
aspirations after the unknowable, and if these did not contribute mightily, by stimulating curiosity, to widen the range of
the things which are knowable.
2d. If light and heat are particles of matter, no matter how
subtle, and attenuated, they would, on reaching the earth,
beat down all the forests, and pulverize all the buildings and
animals on its surface: for the momentum of matter, however
fine, is increased in the same proportion as its velocity. The
momentumn of any material substance is compounded of its
bulk and velocity. Increase the former, without increasing
the velocity, and the momentum  will be increased; and increase the velocity, without increasing the bulk, and the momentum is also augmented in the same degree. This is very
observable with regard to lightning, which is supposed, although it is only an hypothesis, to be identical with light and
heat. At any rate the particles of the electric fluid must be
inconceivably small; and yet, in consequence of the amazing
velocity with which it moves, it is able to tear in pieces the
most sturdy trees, and to perforate, with a hole, those sub



222                      ESSAYS.
stances whict it does not tear. But the velocity of the light
and heat, which are supposed to come from the sun, must be
immeasurably greater than that of lightning: and it is no exaggeration, therefore, but a legitimate deduction from facts,
to say that they would batter to pieces the most solid structures on the face of the earth. The animals which inhabit it
would be extirpated; or rather, they never could have been
brought into being, sinnce the presence of light and heat, are
necessary conditions of their existence.  Our planet then,
wou'ld be a mere desert, lighted up by a fluid, which only rendered the spectacle more hideous and frightful. The force of'
these objections can not be avoided, unless we take refuge in
one of those nameless entities which still linger in the schools,
and which trouble the minds of philosophers, whenever they
venture beyond a certain limit, although that limit may never
be precisely defined.  For if we say that the particles of heat
and light are imponderable, the same may be said of the
electric fluid; and yet, with a velocity infinitely less than that
of light and heat, we know what devastation it is capable of
creating. We would admit and deny in the same breath,
that light and heat were matter, or if we say that they are
not matter, but only qualities of matter, the same difficulty
in another form, presents itself. We can not conceive of the
properties of matter affecting us, unless the subject of these
properties is made to effect us. The cause may lie at a very
great distance; but it is only through some medium which
affects our senses, that any sensations can be created. The
people of Venice who, the other day, heard the roar of artillery at Solferino, a distance of two hundred and forty miles,
were effected in the same manner, though in a less degree, as
those who were on the spot, by the vibrations of the air which
conveyed the sound.*
3d. The body of the sun should be illuminated, if there is
any truth in the received theories concerning the transmission
of light. The body of the sun is perfectly black, and is surrounded by an immense zone, or fiery ocean of light, more
than one hundred thousand miles in depth, and two hundred
*I have understood, that the cannonading at the battle of Camden
during the Revolutionary war, was heard at Charleston, a distance of
120 railes.




ESSAYS.                       223
thousand removed from the sun; and the black spots, which
are sometimes seen, are small portions of the body of the sun,
discerned through the luminous zone which surrounds it, and
which, tumbling about like the waves of the sea, leaves openings or vast chasms, through which the eye can penetrate.
The earth, then, which is distant from the sun, or from this
luminous ocean, more than two hundred millions of miles, is
lighted up, while the body of the sun, which is distant only
two hundred thousand, receives no light. The thing we would
say, on its mere statement, was preposterous; and all the reflection which we are able to give to it afterwards only increases the conviction of its absurdity. I do not pretend to
account for this extraordinary inconsistency in the received
theory; for the whole subject, not merely in the present state
of our knowledge, but for all future time, probably, lies entirely beyond the range of our faculties; and not admitting
the construction of any positive theory, shuts the door upon
all the inconsistencies which flow from it.
4th. ~With regard to heat, there is an additional and insurmountable difficulty. The particles of caloric which are supposed to be generated at the sun or rather in the fiery atmosphere which surrounds it, pass through the vast regions of
space which surrounds it, which are constantly at a temperature as low, or lower than the freezing point of mercury.
They must, therefore, no matter how high their temperature
may be when they first emanate from their source, be deprived
of it, not merely before they reach the earth, but in a very
short time after they have been projected. It is surprising
enough when two contradictory theories are constructed; the
one by the metaphysicians, the other by natural philosophers,
that both should be admitted to be true: but it is something
still more surprising where two which contradict each other
are both invented by natural philosophers, that they should
obtain the assent of natural philosophers themselves. Both
lie entirely within their own deipartment, and the discrepancy
between them, is directly open to their observation. The first
case is exemplified in the two discordant theories, that light
and heat are exceedingly minute particles of matter, projected
from the sun, and yet that light and heat are secondary qualities of matter, that is mere sensations, or affections of the




224                     ESSAYS.
mind: and the second is exemplified in the present instance
where the phenomena are equally contradictory, and the two
theories mutually subvert each other. For, if the vast regions
of space are perpetually at a temperature below the freezing
point of mercury, the boldest imagination can not conceive
how it is possible, that the particles of heat should retain their
temperature, until they reach the earth.
5th. According to all the received theories concerning the
principle of gravitation, the particles of heat and light should
be attracted to, not repelled from, the sun. That our planet
should be retained in its orbit, by the powerful attraction of
the sun; that the vast zone of heat and light which surrounds
the sun, should also be constantly maintained in proximity to
the sun; and yet that the minute particles of matter which
compose it should be repelled from the sun, is an inscrutable
mystery, which can not be unravelled by proposing one theory,
and then supposing another in direct contradiction with it.
The atmosphere which surrounds our globe, is never repelled
from it, never flies off to the sun, or any other planet; but
has continued since the creation to lie upon the earth, never
reaching, perhaps, much higher than forty miles, and varying
in density only in consequence of the attraction of the earth.
Many suggestions may be offered in order to relieve the subject from. the difficulties which attend these inconsistent theories. It may be said, that, although the sun possesses the
power of attraction in such an enormous degree, that it perpetually holds the earth in its orbit; yet that the moon, with
a power of attraction incomparably less, affects the tides of
the ocean, in a much less degree than the sun. But this would
only show, that the principle of gravitation is itself involved
in infinite mystery, and entirely locked up from our researches.
It would prove that we have invented a name, substituted it
in the place of an idea; and when it has grown old, and been
consecrated by our ignorance, we then reason upon it, as a
well understood principle, and struggle to reconcile it with
other phenomena, no matter how contradictory our different
hypothesis may be. But whether gravitation is a comprehensible, and understood principle, the theory of the tides is
very far from  being so.  It has been said that Aristotle
drowned himself because he could not explain it, and the sub



ESSAYS.                        225
ject continues, to this day, to be covered with the same obscurity as it was in his time. That there is a connection between
the moon and the tides, no one can doubt, for it is matter of
daily observation: but of the nature of that connection we
are entirely ignorant. If we had a greater number of senses
to convey to us a knowledge of the now  hidden properties
of matter; and much higher intellectual facultie,- to combine
and compare what we did perceive, we would be able to explain a great abundance of material phenomena, which are
now as inexplicable to us as they are to the insects of a molehill. It is inconceivable what a boundless range of knowledge
would be laid open to us, if there was a considerable addition
to the number of our senses; or if those we possess were
greatly exalted in strength and capacity. The man without
the sense of hearing can form no idea of sounds, nlor the man
born blind of colors, or of visual extension, which is so different firom tangible extension. And is it matter of surprise
that innumerable difficulties should present themselves in the
material world, in consequence of the fewness, or the great
defect of those faculties, which are now possessed by the most
perfectly organized human being.
6th. No sen siblA reason can be assigned why the light which is
darted fronm the sun should not continue to illuminate the
earth long after the disappearance of the sun. Mr. Leslie, an
elmilenlt ~philosopher of Scotland, supposes that the matter of
light, however subtle, and minute its particles may be, has
actually been accumulating upon the earth since the creation;
an  tllhat it, now amounts to a very appreciable quantity. The
quntity whlich is suplposed to be projected from the sun in a
sin gle clear dlay, we would suppose, should be sufficient to light
up tlJhe earth, lolng after the rays of the sun bad ceased to illuminllte it, either directly, or through the reflection of our atmos.
pherle. But if thle particles of light have been accutmulating for
agens uIlfpo  the surtace of the earth, as they must have done, if
ligll i's lllatter, the reasons why they should continue to illu-.
milate 11u,  (lurilng both night and day, are increased millions
fold. The l)articles of light it is said are darted from the sun..
It i<, t1ih1te'-fre, not the sun, but the rays of the sun, which
lightt utis I ihe e arth. If those rays were not projected, so as to
reacl tihe earth, we should be in perpetual darkness; and ift'
15




226                       ESSAYS.
they are projected, they should manifest their characteristic
propeirties, long after the sun has fallen below the horizon.
I do not see how these objections can be avoided, unless we
resort to another of those barren entities, which still continue
to disfigure plysical science, even in this, the day of its most
brilliant triumphs, as much as they ever have disfigured mental philosophy.
7th. LiXht passes freely through glass which is two inches
thick and Set, does not pass, or passes in exceedingly small
quantity, through dark paper, which is ten times thiunner.
The partic:les of glass are more closely cemented thanl the
particles of almost any other piece of matter. And why
light should refuse to pass, or pass with great difficulty,
through a substance so attenuated and flimsy, that it requires.great care to prevent its being torn asunder, is a problem
which it is not easy to solve. We may resort to some other
hypothesis to support this: but although a single hypothesis
is sollmetimes a legitimate exercise of reason, it is never allow-:able to prop up one hypothesis by another hypothesis: otherwise we would be perpetually reasoning in a circle, and find,ourselves, il the end, confronted by the same, or a greater
inummber of difficulties, than those we set out with.  Wte say
that light is composed of exceedingly small particles, that
they are projected with an inconceivable velocity; so great,
that the wonlder is, that both paper and glass are not torn to:shreds.; and yet that it passes easily through a substance the;particles of which are most closely cemented, while it refuses
to pass through a substance, altogether thinner, and the texture of which is so exceedingly slender. To say that dahrk,paper absorbs the light, is only propping up our ignorance by.our ignorance:: and when we add that white paper has the
same effect, although in a less degree, we endeavor to win the
~credulity of others by giving a fiat contradiction to our own
hypolthesis. The more our reasonings are complicated by hypothesis upon hypothesis, the more imposing they become.
Weare, then, in a mist, which magnifies everything; arnd the.most preposterous views are then regarded as constitutilng a,sublime system. It might be supposed that a thin piece of
dark paper would, in a single day of brilliant sunshine, abesorb -so much light., that it would become light itself: but not




ESSAYS.                      227
only is a single day insufficient; but a million of days are
equally so; and the dark paper continues to the end of that
period to be as impervious to the light as it was at the beginning. It is in vain to say that light is a subtle ether. We
only substitute words for ideas, entitles for facts: or that it is
imponderable; for, although the most delicate instruments
which have been invented, do not enable tus to find out its
weight, it must have weight, if it is matter. Nor canll we say
that it is a quality of matter, for how can this reach us and
affect our senses, unless the matter itself is in some way conveyed to us. Nor does the undulatory theory relieve the subject frorn these great difficulties. It only encumbers it with
others which are equally intractable. It only shifts the view
by another hypothesis which strikes upon the imagination,
because it is fresh and new. It presupposes that light and
heat, are matter which lies at the foundation of the difficulty.
8th. Among all the theories which have been proposed none
remains but the Berkleian, which, annihilating all distinction
between the primary and secondary qualities of matter, endeavors to show that both are mere sensations, and can,
therefore, have 1no outness, or external existence. And this is
a legitimate consequence of the admission, that the secondary
qualities can have none. Light and heat, then, are mere
affections of our minds, and have lno residence any where else.
The argument of Berkely is perfect; it is as faultless as a
mathematical demonstration; and Dr. Brown was accustomed
to say that the only difference between Berkely and Reid was,
that the former would say out loud, matter has no existence,
but would add in a whisper, we can not believe so; while Dr.
Reid would say out loud, matter does exist, but would add in
a whisper, we can not prove it. Thus, as it would be atbsurd
to convert the material world into mere phenomena, or apparitions, no matter how illogical the opposite belief may be,
we are obliged to acknowledge that there is a something belonging to the subject which is entirely hidden from our apprehension, and which, probably, will forever elude our grasp:
and that without the knowledge of this something, the subject must remain in inmpenetrable obscurity. The field of the
unknowable must evidently be infinitely larger than that of
the knowable: and the greatest triumph of human genius




228                     ESSAYS.
would be to fix precisely and forever, the exact boundary between the two. But this can not be done until the field of
the knowable is itself exhausted, and science and philosophy
are still in their infancy.
In the present state of our knowledge the most reasonable
theory which can be proposed, is that the light and heat which
have been supposed to come from the sun, are generated upon our
earth. All the phenomena, all our observation, bear witness
to the high probability of this conjecture. If light and heat
come from the sun or from the immense zone which surrounds
it, it is impossible to explain how it is that the vast regions of
space are the blackness of darkness, nor how it is, that the
temperature is constantly below the freezing point of mercury.
But the how, the process by which, they are generated upon the
earth, is itself an inscrutable mystery. The advantage of this
above all other theories, is that it agrees with a greater number
of facts than any other. That there is a connection between the
presence of the sun and light and heat, no one can doubt; but
as in the case of the tides and moon, and an abundance of other
phenomena, an impenetrable veil hangs over the nature of the
connection, and the process by which this influence is exerted.
With all our boasted knowledge we are compelled to exclaim
with La Place: "What we do know, is very little; what we
do not know is immense."




ESSAYS.                     229
ESSAY IX.
THE WVEATHER, THE WINDS AND CLIMATE.
The changes which occur in the weather, are of common
observation, and often afford a subject of agreeable, and instructive conversation. Those changes are in a general way
attributed to the different position of the earth in relation to
the sun, which causes a difference in the different seasons:
and as the position of these two bodies, during any two days
of the same year, is never the same, but is constantly changing, we are at no loss to account for the variations which occur from week to week, or from day to day, during the same
year. But here we are met by a great difficulty. Although
the causes which operate to produce great changes during the
year, or during any one season, are constantly changing, such
is not the case from year to year; and yet the difference in
temperature, in the fall of rain, in the course of the winds,
&c., is as different from year to year, as it is during any one
season of the year. All the great general laws of nature are
perpetually the same, never varying, so far as our observations extend, from century to century: and we would at once
conclude, that although the changes which occur during any
one year, are perfectly consistent with the exact regularity of
those general laws; yet that there should be no material variation during any two or more years. From year to year, and
from century to century, the relative position of the sun and
earth has been the same: and yet no two years are alike.
But if the great general laws which govern the Universe, are
constantly the same, there should be an exact sameness in
all the plenomena which occur from year to year, and from
century to century. WVe frequently distinguish between general and particular laws; and the last may sometimes modify




230                      ESSAYS.
materially the operation of the first. This happens where the
last are dependant upon causes different from the first.
There is then a real conflict between the two, each will exercise its respeStive influence, and consequently disturb all the
calculations, which might be founded upon a consideration of
one of them only. But in this instance, the particular laws,
those which operate during any one year, are all derived from
the general laws, and are controlled by them. The last are
permanent, and unchanged from century to century: each year
presents the same agencies at work as any preceding year;
and we find ourselves at a loss to account for a fact of the
greatest notoriety; that no two years are alike in any of
those features, which in a general way we term the weather.
In truth, on whatever side we turn, and however familiar the
phenomena to which we give our attention may be, we meet
with difficulties, which excite our curiosity, and on that account, are full of interest. And we feel that we ought to be
able to explain them, even though our faculties should be too
feeble to resolve any of the higher problems of physical
science. But we often find ourselves as much at a loss in the
one case, as in the other. I will deliver that subject over to
those who have made physics a special study; and will con
tent myself for the present, with a simple, but I believe, a
clear statement of the difficulties, which surround the question. For that is the first step towards a successful solution
of them.
The difficulties which are constantly met with, even in matters of comr:non observation, never fail to prompt the ingenious and imaginative to form plausible theories concerning
them. One of the most remarkable instances of this, is the
theory which is founded upon the supposed connection between different phases of the moon, and the condition of our
atmosphere: so that it has been supposed, that the different
quarters in which the moon is, are sufficient to determine
whether we shall have dry or wet weather. And although
year after year, and century after century pass away, without
affording any confirmation of this theory, but on the contrary,
afford incontestible evidence of its unsoundness; it is confidently relied upon by great numbers of persons, among both
the illiterate and intelligent. It is obvious that if it were a




ESSAYS.                      231
just theory, the same phases ought to give rise to the sanme
effects every year, and throughout the whole region, where
they are exhibited. But the reverse is the case: no two
years are alike in this respect: the diversity is as great as can
well be imnagined. Nor are the same phenomena exhiibited at
one and the same time, in diffierent parts of the globe, to
which the moon presents the same phase. During the two
months which have just passed, Canada has suffered from the
severity of an extreme drought; while we had very seasonable rains, and the whole region. occupied by the armnies on
the James river, have been deluged with rain. There is no
event in nature which I am not prepared. to admtlit, however
extraordinary it may be; for we are surrounded by miracles:
and although we never give the name of miraculous to things
which are familiar to us, yet the reason of those things is
often as unsearchable, as the reason of those which occur very
seldom. But I must have strong and cogent evidence, before
I can assent to the existence of any phenomenon which is in
plain contradiction with my senses, and reasoning faculties.
In this instance all the evidence is opposed to the existence of
any such phenomenon; although the superstitious belief still
clings to minds, which are unwilling to part with an old and
cherished friend. During the latter part of the last century,
it. occurred to a young man of great genius and obser.
vation in Germany, (the future Dr. Olbers) that the most
decisive way of settling the question, would be to keep a daily
register of the weather, and of the change of the moon. In
1786, he entered upon this task, and completed it only in 1836.
Not a single day, he assures us, was omitted in his tatle, during this long period of fifty years. And the result vwas that
no appreciable influence of the moon, on the fall of rain, or
with the clearing up of the weather could be detected. The
evidence is literally overwhelming.  A period of ten years
has generally been deemed sufficient to test the probatbilities
on one side or the other, of most events, either in social or
physical statistics. But in this instance we have the most
careful and minute observations for half a century, a period
more than sufficient to settle the question now and forever.
Another instance, though not so remarkable as the last, because it is not of such antiquity, of the propensity to frame




2f32                    ESSAYS.
an ingenious hypothesis, on the occurrence of any uncommon
or occult phenomenon, is afforded by the account which has
been given of the connection between spots on the sun, and
the very cool summers which we occasionally have, and if
spots on the sun, are nothing more than the body of the sun,
seen through the vast ocean which surrounds it, whenever it
is violently tossed about; and if that ocean is a fiery liquid,
or gazeous matter, there would seem to be nothing unreasonable in the hypothesis. It would account for everything; as
indeed most hypotheses do for the time being; for they are
constructed for the sole purpose of clearing up a difficulty,
and without any regard to their intrinsic probability. The
first speculations which I recollect were published more than
forty years ago, when we were visited by a very cold summer,
and where several spots on the sun were distinctly visible.
But several summers equally cool have since occurred when no
spots were discovered; and several very hot have also occurred, when these spots were perceptible. There is no error
more common, both among the learned and the unlearned,
than to mistake a mere coincidence, for a case of cause and
effect, that is for a regular connection between antecedence
and consequence. And the only corrective of this great error,
is to msake constant observation of the facts: and by a careful induction of these, to verify, or to disprove the reasonableness of the theory which we are disposed to form. But the
coincidence was so very striking at the time to which I refer,
that philosophers were captivated by a plausible theory,
which promised to lay open a great secret of nature, and did
not wait for time to test the validity of that theory.
But about the same time another hypothesis of nearly
equal plausibility was offered in order to account for the same
phenomenon. It was said that the fields of floating ice which
were met with by navigators, even in very low latitudes, were
abundantly sufficient to account for uncommonly cool summers. And here, also, the coincidence was complete. The
temperature of the summer was low, and icebergs were frequently met with at sea. But subsequent observation, has
not verified the justness of this hypothesis, any more than of
the last. We have had very cool summers, when little or no
floating ice was met with; and some very warm ones, when it




ESSAYS.                     233
has been seen, as far South as the latitude of the West India
Islands. Indeed a warm summer would be most apt to disengage the ice in high latitudes from the positions where it had
been fixed during the preceding winter. But when we consider that the icebergs which are met with in the Atlantic
ocean, plentiful as they may seem to be, are mere specks on
that vast basin of water, the cause would appear to be too insignificant, to account for the phenomenon. If philosophers
had only observed the vane of their Parish Church, or the direction of the smoke from their kitchen chimneys, they would
probably have obtained the clue which they were in search of.
They would have observed that Southerly winds are by no
means so prevalent in cold, as in hot summers; and that on
the other hand, Northerly winds are not so prevalent in hot,
as in cold ones. In the temperate zone, the predominance of
Northerly windls makes our winter, and the predominance of
Southerly winds our summer: and it is very natural, therefore, that fluctuations in these during any season of the year,
should occasion fluctuations in the temperature. There is at
all times a vast magazine of heat to the South of us, and a
vast, magazine of cold to the North. The temtpertte zone is
the battle ground between them. The zone of cold approaches
much nearer to us in winter than in summer; and indeed
causes our winter; and the zone of heat reaches much farther
North in sutnmer, than in winter; and for a similar reason
gives us our summer. But both exert a determinate influence
all the year round; and are the cause of the changes which
take place at all seasons.
Mr. Volney in his "View of the United States" declares
that a due -North wind does not blow more than two days in
the year. It is not very common for the wind to blow due
from any of the four quarters; and, therefore, when I use the
terms North and South, I mean to be understood as speaking
of winds which incline more or less to those points; and
which have nearly the same effect as if they blow directly
from them. But Mr. Volney is undoubtedly mistaken. His
observation was not based upon a sufficiently extended range
of facts. From  the middle of last April to the middle of
June, I observed the wind to blow from a point as due Noqth
as could be, for at least twenty days. There is another mis.




234                     ESSAYS.
take which he has committed of more importance. He insists,
that the South west wind is the predominant wind in the
United States; that it even blows two thirds of the year.
And upon this assumption he has built a theory, which would
be very ingenious, if it were not so very frail. Having taken
the fact for granted, he accounts for it on the same principle
as the Gu!f Stream is accounted for. This is supposed to be
occasioned by the constant blowing of all Eaat wind into the
Gulf of Mexico. This dams up the water, and as there is no
outlet at the West, makes it return in a counter current to the
East, and then causes it to run up the entire length of the Atlantic coast. But in truth, the Gulf Stream to this day is an
unexplained phenomenon. An East wind which would be
powerful enough to produce so mighty an effect would blow
down all the forests and all the towns on the coast of the
Gulf. But this wind not only does not blow with anything
like this violence, but it is not a constant wind. There are
long intermissions: and yet there is no interruption to the
flowing of the Gulf Stream. It continues its course with the
same unvarying velocity, at any one point, from the mouth of
the Gulf to the banks of New Foundland. It then crosses
the Atlantic to the Irish coast, runs South past the Straits of
Gibraltar to the African coast, and then actually recrosses the
Atlantic to the South American Continent. Surely these effects are on too immense a scale, to be accounted for by a
cause so totally inadequate to produce them. A stream exactly similar to bur Gulf Stream, ruus up the whole length of
the Western coast of South America; and Capt. Cook in his
voyages repeatedly notices the unaccounttable currents which
are met with in all parts of the Pacific ocean. He simply
calls them submarine rivers, leaving it to others to form ingenious hypotheses on a subject which is entirely hidden from
our view.
This would seem  to dispose of Mr. Volney's ingenious
theory of a Gulf Stream of wind commencing like the Gulf
Stream  of water at the East, and being damned up at the
bottom of the Gulf, turns to the right and then running in a
North-easterly direction through the United States. The lofty
table land of Mexico stops its course, which woald otherwise
have been to the West into the Pacific, and allows it no




ESSAYS.                      235
egress, except from the South-west. If a wind blows constantly into the Gulf it can be nothing more than the trade
wind, which diminishes in force as it approaches the latitude
of 280 and when it reaches that entirely loses its force. But
we are entirely at a loss to account for the fact that after it
has escaped from the table land of Mexico, and has fairly got
into the level country which stretches from  Matagorda to
Lake Erie, it should still persist in pursuing a course directly
from the South-west to the North-east. This contradicts all
the laws which govern the winds, which whenever they are
free to move in any direction, are not turned aside by any
artificial impediment, never pursue one invariable course (luring eight months of the year. But the fact is not as stated
by Mr. Volney; the South-west wind does not blow two-thirds
of the year. I have never kept a register of the winds or
weather;  but my attention during the last twenty years has
been particularly and daily drawn to the fact, in consequence
of its connection with several very important problems. And
I have no hesitation in saying that the South-east wind is
even more prevalent than the South-west.
It must be confessed, however, that our acquaintance with
this whole subject, familiar as the phenomena are, is exceedingly defective. The phenomena are brought home to us
every day, and every hour, but they are connected with causes
so remote and perhaps with some so unsuspected that we are
unable to embrace the sublject as a whole, and must continue
to grope with a glimmering light, as we do in every other departmeilt of physics.
_No subject appeared at one time to be more completely set
at rest, than the cause of the remarkable difference between
the East, and West coasts of a Continent. The temperature
of the Pacific coast of the United States is in wititer ten degrees higher than it is on the Atlantic coast; and the same
difference is observable between the European coast and the
coast of ChiDa. San Francisco, in the latitude of New York,
has the same temperature as Charleston and Savannah, which
are ten degrees South. Marseilles and Bordeaux are ten degrees warmer than Pekin in China, although Pekin is in about
the same lkttitude. The theory which accounted for this great
difference was, that Westerly winds are the prevailing winds




236                     ESSAYS.
all the world over; and that the temperature of a country
would depend upon whether it fronted the ocean upon the
East, or the West. The ocean in consequence of its great
depth preserves a much more equable temperature all the year
round, than does the land. The temperature in winter is consequently several degrees higher than the interior of a Continent: and if Westerly winds are the prevalent winds all over
the world, they would render a country warmer in winter
when they blow from the ocean, than when they blow from the
land. The influence of the sea, in modifying the temperature
is very observable in the case of Islands, where the temperature is always higher in winter than it is in the same latitude
on a Continent which fronts the ocean on the east. The Island of Bermuda is in the same latitude as Charleston; but
the winters are so warm that no one thinks of building a
dwelling house with a chimney; but in Charleston no one
thinks of building one without chimneys. The last is exposed
to the North and West winds which blow over the immense
extent of country west of it: the first is removed nine hundred miles from the influence of those winds. Buenos Ayres
is in the same latitude South, as Norfolk in Virginia is North.
No one in Buenos Ayres sits by a fire in winter; but no one
would be comfortable in Norfolk without one. The country in
which Buenos Ayres is situated has some of the features of
an island.  The South American Continent diminishes so
much in breadth in that latitude that it is brought within the
influence of the winds from the Pacific.
But here we meet with a great difficulty. I have never
been able to satisfy myself that Westerly winds prevailed to
any thing like the extent which the theory supposes. On the
contrary I have after a long and close observation, been
brought to the conclusion that Easterly winds are fully as
prevalent as Westerly. The difficulty consists in reconciling
this fact with the fact so well known to every one, that there
is so great a difference between the West and the East coasts
of a Continent. The theory which accounts for this difference
is exceedingly reasonable, for it explains all the phenomena.
But I see no way of preserving it, but by supposing not only
that there is a current above from the West; but that this
current is of so much greater depth than the one below from




ESSAYS.                       237
the East, that it determines its tempara.ure, and consequently
the temperature of the country over which both flow. In this
way the difficulty may be overcome.
But it has been said on very high authority, that the law of
climate, to which I have referred, is entirely reversed in South
America, and that there the Eastern coast is much warmer
than the Western; and this has been accounted for by the
fact that the trade winds which are said to blow constantly
from the East, between the latitudes 28~ North and South of
the equator, have the same effect in elevating the temperature
which Westerly winds have on a coast which faces the ocean
to the West, and which lies beyond those latitudes. But it is
very remarkable that Dampier, a very experienced and observant navigator, represents the wind as constantly blowing
from the North, on the North side ( f the equator, and from the
South, on the South side, and for the space of ten degrees on
each side. Nor if the theory of the trade winds were correct,
would it account for the difference of temperature unless we
take into consideration another fact which is itself sufficient
to explain the variation from the general law. The lcft% chain
of the Andes runs two thousand miles along the Western
coast, and must contribute materially to lower the temperature, while the Eastern coast is comparatively an open level
country.
If there is any fact which would seem capable of being reduced to certainty, it is the templerature (of a; country at very
distant periods; when it was covered with forests and morasses and when it was under the hand of cultivation. It is in atter of history, and on -a subject where there can be, io cornceivable motive for misrep)resentation, an(l yet even here we
not only have doubts. but we are p)resented with a theory w hich
obviously has no foundation. And that is, that thetemtl)eia.tulre
of a country in wi ter is in variabiy war mer after the forests hl)ave
been cut down, andt cultivation) has been splreal over its Stir'ft e.
Mr. Gibbon, with a graphic pen, (escribes thett locks of i(ce, % i(i.h
were cut from the Seine, durirng a very co!d winter in the timne
of Jullian, and resembles thetn to blocks of illal ble. Not hitg (of
the kind he says is known itn modern timtes. And yet it, is
only a few winters ago, that I observed ini ati extract tronl a
French paper, a notice of the very same incident as having




238                     ESSAYS.
just occurred, and in which the blocks of ice were, in like
mallner, compared with huge blocks of marble, just taken
from the quarry. Mr. Gibbon also observes that the Rhine
and Danube are never frozen over as they were several centuries ago; when it is notorious, as his annotator, Mr. Milnan
informs us, that those rivers are solidly frozen every hard
winter. Cmesar tells us that the Cevennes in Gaul were the
Northern boundary of the Orange; and they are so at this
day. Virgil says that the peach tree blossoms in Rome about
the 19th of February, and it has continued to blossom at that
time down to this day. Indeed, when we consider that the
chief agents which produce the difference of the seasons are
the winds; that in winter Northerly winds are predominant,
and in summer, Southerly, and that these agents are of such
magnitude as to swallow up all other causes; there would
seem independently of the numerous and undoubted historical facts at our command to be no reason whatever for the
supposition.




ESSAYS.                         239
ESSAY X.
THE IRIGHTS OF ]WOMEN IN A DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC.*
This is a question of infinitely more importance than is generally supposed.  The placing men and women upon precisely
the same footing in political society will be one of the greatest
revolutions in human affairs since the beginning of society.
No question, tLerefore, which has ever been agitated, demands
morethougoht, and a more unclouded judgmenit.
The capacity of the two sexes has been supposed to be different.  I have given a great deal of consideration to this
question, and am sati: fled that the idea is without foundation.
It is difficult no doubt where the training, and education of
the, two has been different, to penetrate through the artificial
exterior which has been superinduced, and to find out what
the original capacities of the two are.  But there are notwithstandlilng a sufficient number of facts to guide us. For first,
boys and girls up to the time when their education ceases to
be the same, afford no signs of an original difference of capacity. Second, where their education does not cease to be the
same, but both are educated alike, as is now frequently the
case, the faculties of the one are developed in as high a degree as those of the other; especially if we make allowance
for the st,nse of inferiority which the social position of females
" The followingl note, in peiicil, in Judge Gritnke's hand writing, was
appended to the manuscript, sheets of this essay:
NTE. —This essay is not to be published, as the views are pushed to an
extreme. It is ant effort to find out the truth, a preliminary investigation
only. When re-written, and the views in some parts considerably modified, it will be published.
The anthor, when he wrote this note, evidently contemplated very
considerable modification of the views herein presented: and it was not
till after very serious and thoughtful deliberation, and consultation with
judicions friends, that the manuscript was placed by the publisher, in the
hands of the printer; it being deemed improper, that so valuable a contribnution to a subject now so largely agitating the public mind, should
be withheld from the world, notwithstanding that the author, if living,
might desire to largely modify these views.




240                      ESSAYS.
thrusts upon them, whatever their education may be. The
confidence which men feel in themselves, knowing that all the
avenues of intellectual distinction are open to them, and the
want of confidence which women feel in consequence of their
being closed to them, will necessarily produce a difference of
mind and character, whatever their original capacities may
be. Third, a great number of women have been distinguished
for intellectual endowments, and for vigor and address in the
walks of active life. The favorable position in which they
have been placed, whether arising from fortuitous circumstarnces, from the happy turn which their education has received,
or from some peculiarity in their social condition, or from a:11
three together, have been sufficient to develop faculties of a
very high order.
But this by no means exhausts the question. The moral
and intellectual faculties of the sexes may be equal, and yet
they may be destined to very different spheres. The first remarkable circumstance which strikes us, is, that society everywhere, and in all ages, exhibits the two as moving in very
different spheres. A disposition of human affairs so general,
almost invariable, that the departures from it are only exceptions to the rule, is above all other circumstances, calculated
to make us pause, and take a wide survey, before we decide a
question which affects society so deeply. The present condition of women can not be attributed to the fact that men have
usurped the supremacy, that the control which they possess
has been acquired wrongfully, and fortuitously, not rightfully,
and legitimately. For how came the power to be originally
usurped? By the supposition, both in the beginning possessed
equal capacities of all kinds? and yet there is no period when
the distinction between the two sexes is more marked, than in
the commencement of society. Among a tribe of hunters, a
tribe of shepherds, in the patriarchal formn of government,
the vocations, and pursuits of men and women, are as distinct
as in the refined, and intellectual circles of Great Britain,
and the United States.  There seems therefore at first; no
way of accounting for the great difference in thecondition of
the two, but by supposing that there is some inherent law of
our being, which has destined them to very different spheres.
It would not be extraordinary if such were the case. Hu



ESSAYS.                      241
man beings are inclosed on all sides by circumstances which
act constantly, and powerfully upon them, and prevent their
leaping beyond a given condition. We see this exemplified in
individuals of the same sex, no two of whom are alike, because each is controlled by some law which is proper to itself,
and which modifies the action of those causes which are common to the species. Even causes which are purely physical,
sometimes control the character, and shape the whole destiny
of life. If therefore men and women do possess equal capacities, and yet are designed to play very different parts, this
would not be at all inconsistent with the general plan of providence. On the contrary, it would be in analogy with that
plan, which everywhere shows variety, and dissimilitude,
amidst the greatest uniformity.
It is unnecessary however to indulge in mere speculation
or conjecture. The question is perhaps capable of something
like a precise determination. The causes which act upon individuals, and differ each from all others, are so minute, and
so infinitely varied, as in many instances to be absolutely inscrutable. But the difficulty is not so great where the inquiry
is confined to those laws which govern the character of classes.
These are much fewer and more simple, and therefore, more
readily within the grasp of the understanding. They operate
at one and the same time upon thousands, or millions who
compose that class, and therefore stand out prominently to
observation.'The two first circumstances arising from the difference of
sex, which are calculated to arrest attention, are child-beariag
and nursing. These are the sole causes which have given to
the life, and conduct of women, a direction totally different
from that of men. [For although there are many other causes
of difference which may be detected, yet they are all subordinate to those two, and may be traced to them as their source.
The immediate effect of these is obvious. Confinement to
the house, and a constant devotion to their offspring during the
period of infancy are the consequences. Men do not bear
children, and, on that very account are less fitted to nurse
them. And although in the mere intervals of nursing, fathers
might take care of their children, they could not do so with
as much skill, and assiduity as mothers. There is an adapt,
17




242                     ESSAYS.
edness to this dnty on the part of mothers, which would be
very imperfectly imitated by fathers. Independently of which,
if both father and mother devoted themselves to the care of
their infant children, a great deal of time would be lost
to those who depend for subsistence upon some out of door
employment. It seems most fit therefore, that the care should
be confided to one, and every circumstance seems to point to
the mother as the one most eminently fitted for it. And as
the personal care of the mother is indispensable during infancy, it is very naturally extended over the whole period of
childhood. The care of the infant is a preparatory school for
the more difficult and complicated cares which arise when the
infant has emerged into childhood. These views acquire additional strength when it is recollected that the number of
children may be from half a dozen to a dozen. A very considerable portion of life is then consumed in the nursing of
infants, and in the cares which afterwards grow spontaneously
out of this relation. Under such circumstances it would seem
to be almost impossible for women to follow the same pursuits
as men. We must not be startled because causes purely physical have produced this organization of domestic society.
Causes of the same nature are perpetually at work to maintain the health of both body, and mind, and to enable the
whole of mankind to discharge the various duties of life. We
can no more free ourselves from the laws which our physical
being has imposed upon us, than the plant, or the animal can
be made free of the laws which reign over them. But it is a
happy circumstance, when these very laws become, as in the
case of rational beings, the parent of the first disposition, and
the most exalted virtues.
The causes to which I have referred, by confining women to
the domestic hearth, produce a delicacy of frame, and character, which do not belong to men. And then commences the
operation of moral causes, which constantly augment the distinction between the two. For first, this greater delicacy, and
beauty, and the modesty which is naturally attendant upon
them, causes females to be caressed, instead of the caressers.
The masculine traits are then complete in the one sex, the
feminine in the other. Man becomes an active, woman a passive being.  All those occupations which require strength,




ESSAYS.                      243
and activity of body, or mind, are assigned to the one, and
those which are consistent only with great firmness of organization, and character, to the other. Second, the inexpiable
disgrace which attaches to women on any breach of chastity,
contributes still further to heighten the distinction. An indiscriminate association with men would present instances of
temptation so numerous, as to be difficult to resist. If yielded
to, society would be converted into a pandemonium. They
therefore voluntarily withdraw from public notice, and from
all occupations which are common to men.
The marked attention, and deference which are paid to females, is a principal cause of that inferiority of mind, which
manifests itself after they have attained to womanhood. This
inferiority is acquired, not original. If the thing were reversed, and the same deference were paid to men, they would
instantly sink in the scale as intellectual beings. Their character would assume the effeminate traits which belong to
women. One reason undoubtedly why the sons of eminent
men, seldom fulfil the expectations which are formed of them,
is that they enjoy from early youth, some of that very deference which is paid to women as a class. Their fathers were
perhaps turned out upon the world poor, and friendless: they
were compelled to battle with all sorts of obstacles in order to
win a reputation. Their sons have a name from the cradle.
In youth, they are noticed above all other young men; and
this empty, and imaginary distinction so beguiles their imagination, and enfeebles their understandings, that instead of
adding lustre to their families, they very often bring disgrace
upon them. There are exceptions to this remark.  Some
youths of unusually fine mould, or whose condition has been
counteracted by one cause or another, are goaded to exertion,
and redeem themselves from the imputation which is attached
to the class. But these instances are as rare as of young
ladies becoming distinguished as intellectual women. It is
then the comparatively rugged life which men generally lead,
the self-reliance, and self-command, to which they are inured,
the having no name, no reputation, which they do not win for
themselves, which cultivates in them more strength both of
mind, and body. And it is to causes entirely the reverse, that
we must attribute the delicacy, and feebleness of women. In,




244                       ESsAYs.
stead of being subjected to the toil of body and mind, to
which men are exposed, they are indulged with the tranquil
retreat of home: their path instead of being beset with diffifulties, is strewed with roses; they are everywhere met
with obsequiousness, and deference, the emptiness of which
they are unable, or unwilling to comnprehend, until it is too
late. I; is not in the power of human nature to resist an influence which is so fascinating, however fatal it may be to the
growth of vigorous qualities. "Love, (says Madame De Stael,
who was a most illustrious exception to these remarks,) which
is but arn episode in the life of mlan, makes up the whole life
of woma-n."  Men who are accustomed to ruminate upon one
idea, or one set of ideas, have their minds more or less shrunk,:and contracted. And where one sentiment reigns supreme
-over the life of woman, the effect is similar, only more decisive
in its operatioo.
This presents the greatest difficulty in the way of lifting,women to a higher civil condition. Will they consent to give
inp their present position, in order to participate in the strife, and:turmoil of society. It all depends upon themselves; an enlightened resolution taken by any considerable body of per-,sons, will always be victorious. There can be no doubt, that,at no former period, would women hare consented to make the,exchange; nor would they generally at the present day. But'their education is now of a much higher order than was ever
lbefore 1known, and this may producee an entire alteration in
-their disposition, and character. There are decided symptoms,of this in the very remarkable conventions which are now
frequently held in the United States. The landed proprietors,of Europe exchanged the personal services of their retainers
for a fixed rent. They lost the deference, and respect which
wvas before paid to them, but they augmented their wealth,
and all the enjoyments to which wealth is tributary, at the
same tinle that they rose immeasurably in the scale of inteltectual beings. In order to manage their inferiors, who were
no longer their vassals, education, ability, information, were
called into requisition: and no one who had lived in the times
of the Tudors of England, or the Henrys of France, would
recognize the present race of country gentlemen as the same
-with the past.




ESSAYS.                         245
And this at once opens up views which are entirely new,
and of a deeply interesting character.  Causes are actui ly at
work at the present day,. which in all human probability will
entirely alter the civil condition of women. No one who has
been accustomed to ponder upon those events which are passing before his eyes, in preference to groping in the dark annals
of antiquity, can fail to be struck with the thorough, and
radical change which is taking place in the education of
women. Lord Chesterfield in one of his letters remarks, that
he had never known a woman who was able for a quarter of
an hour to hold a conversation wlhich contained a conrsecutive
train of ideas. This was said about one hundred years ago.
Superficial observations, flippant remrarks, made up the whole
m)-atter of conversation. The reason is obvious; the bmeing to
whom  deference is paid, before a title to it is acquirecd, is dep.ived of all self-reliance, and never passes through that stern
discipline, which is necessary to rouse, and strengthen the intellectual faculties. The remark of Lord Chesterfield is by no1
means inapplicable to female society at the present day; but
in his tiime, it was true without any qualification: at -the present, the exceptions to it, are numerous, and remarkable.    During the last twenty years, the minds of young women have
been subjected to a training which formerly was unk1nown..
3fany parents now desire to give their daughteris a moire elevated education. Painting, music, embroidery, no longe-r co nstitute the sum  of their accomplishments.  An acailemical
course is now sought after, in which philosophy, science, and
history are taught. This revolution is by no means general.
Those who live in fashionable life, adhere to the old systeim:
butl am-ong the great body of the middle class, there is a (decided tendency to the adoption of a more rational plan.  iAud
it is to this class, that we may trace all the great revolutions
whilch characterize the -history of modern society. In Gireat
Britain, and still more in the United States, the singular
spectacle is now for the first time presented, of the middle
class not only ruling the minds, but moulding the manners,
and influencing the fashion.
It may seem extraordinary that falthers should be willing to
give their daughters an education so much more elevated than
formerly, when the direct consequence will be sooner or iatd'.,




246                      ESSAYS.
to undermine the supremacy of their own sex. But no one is
able to see clearly to the end of a revolution. All suppose
that they are foresighted enough to do so; but dim views,
vague conjectures, are all they ever attain to. These never
enable them to realize what is coming; and it is this realization, this personification of what we learn, which constitutes
knowledge. This constitution of our nature, bespeaks no defect: without it, society would never move forward.
This revolution in the life of woman which has but just
coarlmenced, is precisely similar to one which has been before
our eyes for more than half a century. Some of the most absolute of thie European princes, have been vieing with each
other in efforts to impart the elements of even a high educatiol among their people. The consequences would seem to be obvious. Thrones, and principalities must be shaken: but no
reasonlirg would be of power sufficient to turn aside the efforts
of those princes. They can no more free themselves from the
delusion which is thrust upon them, than we can avoid seeing
the moon larger in the horizon, than in'the zenith, or than we
can avoid seeing the earth, and the firmament touch each other.
After a revolution has advanced to a certain point, reasoning
is very easy to be comprehended; but it is too late. The institutions which have then risen up, possess a self-motive
power, which bids defiance to any interference from without.
Precisely what the head of the state is now doing in the
European commonwealths, with regard to the people, the
heads of families are also doing with regard to their daughters. As the first have aided unconsciously, and contrary to
wbat they conceive to be their true interests, in elevating the
condition of their subjects, the last are in like manner embarked in a scheme for strengthening the power of women.
This last revolution as I have already remarked, is more observable in the United States, than anywhere else. The reason is obvious: the republican institutions of the country,
give women more influence over their husbands, and place
children more upon a footing with their parents, so that the
wishes of both mothers and daughters are listened to with
more attention than formerly. Mothers frequently desire to
give their daughters a higher education; but this is by no
means so common as for the daughters to desire the same




ESSAYS.                     247
thing. These often at an early period of life feel an ambition
of acquiring knowledge. They are perhaps entirely insensihle of the consequences; that the acquisition may be at the
expense of what in fashionable language are termed their
personal charms. Or they may be strong minded young women, who like strong minded young men, know no other fashion than what is taught in the school of virtue, and wisdom.
But whether young women are sensible or not of all the consequences to which the acquisition of knowledge may lead, a
great, and permanent benefit is conferred upon society. The
first class perhaps never improve upon what they have learned;
the second continuen to improve after they have entered upon
the theatre of life. The last devote themselves actively to improve, and extend the system, while the first simply oppose
no resistence to the same course of education for their daughters. And with the aid of this combined influence, a revolution is set on foot, which although destined to be the most
gradual, as well as the most searching of all revolutions, no
arm will have power to arrest.
But no system of education however complete, will be sufficient to capacitate the mind for the exercise of its original,
and independent powers, unless the active faculties are brought
into play, and a sort of intellectual experience, if I may use
the expression, is engendered. Knowledge is inert, and genius
dumb, when there is no outlet for it, no mode of exercising
the minds practically, and to some end. By this, I by no
means intend, that all the educated minds must be turned out
into active life, in order to put the last finish upon them. Far
from it; the most prolific geniuses, the minds which have
been devoted to speculation, have had a character eminently
practical, and have stirred the minds of other men more deeply, and extensively than any other class. What they have
done in the closet, has always had reference to the world without. They have been men, and that very circumstance has
brought them into frequent collision with other minds during
the greater part of life. By this means, they have been able
to make an infinitude of observations which have a direct
bearing upon the whole course of their speculations. They
are enabled to measure their own capacities, and the capacities of others, and through the minds, and actions of others,




248                     EAsAYS.
to study out all the problems to the solution of which their
attention is directed: independently of which the outward
discipline to which they are thus subjected, keeps their minds
in a state of intense activity. These advantages are all denied to females. Their education may be ever so thorough,
but it will be comparatively unprofitable, unless some field of
active thought is laid open to them. Education even in the
case of men, amounts to little or nothing, unless the strong
will, the will to do, is combined with the resources of knowledge: and this strong will never exists unless both the active,
and intellectual powers are developed.
These remarks, so far, have been confined to the highest exercise of the understanding, speculative philosophy, because
their application to that department of human exertion is less
open to ordinary apprehensien. Assuredly Locke, and Adam
Smith, and IKaut, although living within the walls of a college
d(uring the greater part of their lives, felt the influence of
that discipline which grows out of the action of mind upon
mind, as much as the lawyer, the physician, or the merchant.
They possessed this advantage, if for no other reason, simply
because they were men, and as such, felt that they had a right
to enjoy it.
But with regard to every other species of knowledge, the
rTudiments of which are intended to be taught in sehools,
academies, and colleges, the truth of the foregoing remarks is
obvious.  The lawyer, the physician, the merchant, never
know anything, until they are enabled to verify their knowledge by actual experience. Knowledge is not ours, it is only
on paper, unless we can realize it in some way or other.
Young ladies may be taught history, the laws of their
country, mental philosophy, physiology, but it will all terminate in nothing, unless some object is set before them upon
which their knowledge may center. A happy concurrence of
circumstances will form exceptions to the rule. Very distinguished women have risen up in modern times. But it
was only because they were able partially to emerge from the
condition in which they were born, and to enjoy some of the
advantages of men. The residence of Madame De Stael was the
resort of all the intellectual men of Paris during the closing scenes
of the revolution; and nothing contributed more. to impart a




ESSAYS.                     249
healthy tone to society, and to eradicate the moral dyspepsia
which had infected allranks, than the happy turn which was thns
given to the tastes, and pursuits of both the old, and the young.
It has been said, that the reasan why mathematical truths
have a character of such absolute certainty, is because the
proofs are illustrated by figures which are capable of being
described, or constructed in space. A triangle is drawn upon
a board, precisely as it is conceived by the mind. But moral
ideas are incapable of this exact representation. There is
however to a great extent, an imitation of this very process,
in every other department of'knowledge: and hence the distinction between what is purely speculative, and what is reducible to practice. In law, and medicine, in politics, in the mechanic arts, every principle is the subject of experiment; and
although the experiment does not as in mathematics, contain
the principle without any mixture of what is foreign to it, it
is notwithstanding of wonderful use in elucidating, and fortifying our knowledge. This is precisely the advantage which
men possess over women. The greater part of them. are destined to the active walks of life; and in these, they have an
opportunity of constantly seeing their knowledge subjected to
the test of experience. The knowledge of woman, for want'of this grand instrument of improvement, perishes as soon as
it has blossomed; it never goes to seed as it were, and reproduces itself by embodiment. It is now necessary to return to
the view which was first unfolded, in which the difficulties in
the way of placing men and women socially and civilly on
the same footing, were referred to. These difficulties were designedly set forth, because the analysis of no question on
which contradictory opinions are held is ever complete, unless
there is an examination of both. An opinion however erroneous, which has taken deep root, must at least have a reason
for its existence. The inquiry, how such an opinion came to
prevail is therefore the true way of combating it, and of vindicating the contrary. I have remarked that the distinction
originally between men and women, was a consequence of the
physical structure of the last; that women, not, men have
children, and that nature had provided the former alone with
the means of nourishing their offspring in infancy: that from
these causes purely physical, sprung a great number of moral




250                     ESSAYS.
causes which contributed to confirm the distinction, and to
create for the one a domestic, for the other a public life.
There may be the wisest reasons for the existence of a custom,
or institution at one period of society; and yet these reasons
may cease to be wise at a different period. The rise of the
commonality in modern Europe is a striking example. It
may have been an act of suicide on the part of the community,
to have entrusted the masses in the reigns of the Edwards,
and Henrys, with the power they now possess in England:
yet nothing is more certain, than that the very possession of
this power at the present day, is the chief cause of the security,
and stability of the government.
The impediments in the way of introducing women into
civil life, do not arise from any inferiority of capacity. The
average of intellect among them, is undoubtedly equal to what
it is among men. And as the standard of female education is
becoming higher and higher, the way at least is opened for
lifting them above the condition in which they have hitherto
been placed. If society does actually undergo this change, it
will not be a single precipitous leap. It will be after a long
preparation for this new state of being. The present generation will only witness the discussion of it, the next will stop
to ponder upon it, the third will perhaps enter upon the experiment of it. For there is always much to ponder upon before any innovation is made in the institutions of society: and
it must be admitted, that no occasion has ever occurred, on
which calm, and enlightened reflection will be more necessary
than on this. Most salutary changes in civil affairs are sometimes retarded, sometimes never succeed, because they are not
accompanied with the due amount of reflection, and the necessary preparation. It is this which constitute their sole title
to respect, and the indispensable condition of their adoption.
They may then, and then only be introduced without placing
society in a state of revolution, and incurring danger for
which no advantages can compensate. Fortunately this is an
age of reflection, and it is precisely because it is so, that this
great question is now undergoing discussion.
I will now take a rapid, and succinct survey of the difficulties
which oppose themselves to the elevation of women, in order
to ascertain, or in order that the reader together with myself,




ESSAYs.                     251
may ascertain whether those difficulties are insuperable. For
this is the legitimate purpose of all discussion, to make the
enlightened reader a party to our speculations, and if they be
well founded, to redouble their force.
First, can any but mothers take care of their offspring, not
merely in infancy, but during the whole period of childhood:
and if this duty naturally, and necessarily devolves upon
them, can they pursue the same avocations as men. Secondly,
will the mixture of the sexes, the free, and unrestrained association which will take place between them, lead to universal
licentiousness. A change of dress may be one of the consequences of the masculine character imparted to women, and
this like many other apparently small things, may be sufficient
to revolutionize the manners. Third, will the social equality
of man and wife, produce jealousies, dissensions, calculated to
destroy domestic happiness. Is it consistent with what we
know of human nature, that there should be two masters in
one household. There are many other topics, which will suggest themselves, but they are all subordinate to, and spring
from those which I have mentioned. If we can surmount
these, the difficulty is at an end.
First, the average proportion of births to marriages in the
United States is about four and a half to one. In Europe it
is of course less, and it will necessarily become less in the
United States as society advances, and the population becomes
dense. If four and a half to one, is the average proportion,
many mothers will have a more numerous family than this
proportion indicates, while others will have a less, and some
none at all. As to the last, the mere distinction of sex, presents no obstacle to their admission to the rights of men, nor
to their pursuing the same civil occupations, if agreeable to
them. Nor will it, where the births are only one or two, nor
even where the births are numerous, but the deaths during
infancy, render the family small. In all these instances, except where there are no children, the effect might be simply
to produce a temporary suspension of some of the new avocations to which women were addicted; and in the other, not
even to have that effect. Only remove out of the way, the
great obstacle which custom, and public opinion both originally well founded interpose, and I see no reason, why it




252                      ESSAYS.
should not be left to the free choice of women, whether they
would exercise the political privileges, and follow the pursuits
of men. I say left to their free choice, for the effect of opening
the door to all, would not necessarily be to entice all to enter
it. Those who had a numerous family, would find their duties
at home incompatible with a life abroad. At least this would
be the case, until the system had become thoroughly establishedl, and time, and experience suggested many ways of
overcoming difficulties which had not before been thought of.
This is a very common occurrence. Individuals are unexpectedly thrown into a new situation, and this very circumstance inspires them with the intelligence, and address which
are necessary to accommodate themselves to it. Ia all probability, wherever the husband followed a trade, or profession,
the wife would be a partner. Partners in law, and medicine,
in commerce, manufactures, and the mechanic arts, &c. are
now very common. A firm composed of those who were already partners for life, would be the most natural thing imaginable. In this way, the husband would be able to relieve
the wife when she was confined at home, as the wife would
take the place of the husband, when he was absent, or confined by sickness, or some other infirmity. With regard to
agriculture, which constitutes the pursuit of much the greater
part of the population, in every country but Great Britain,
the ease with which the partnership would be formed, is obvious enough. There the house, and the farm are the place
where the business is transacted: there is no office, or shop
abroad, to which it is necessary to repair daily. In many instances, I have known men disabled for months, sometimes
for years, from actively superintending their affairs, and nothing stood in the way of their wives managing for them, but
the fact that it was not the custom, and therefore not proper
for them  to do so. I have known physicians, and lawyers,
confined by infirmity for years, so that their business, the sole
dependence of their families for subsistence was entirely destroyed. If public opinion had permitted their wives to be
educated as they were, their business would have suffered no
interruption, and their families would not have been reduced
to hopeless poverty.
Secondly, will the indiscriminate association of the sexes,




ESSAYS.                      253
encourage a greater degree of licentiousness than now exists.
Both Plato, and Aristotle have remarked upon the extreme
licentiousness of the Spartan women. But two circumstances
must be remarked. First, the whole tendency of the Spartan
discipline was to produce the deepest corruption in the manners of both men, and women. Second, the two sexes were by
no means placed upon the same footing. Women were looked
upon as possessing a mere animal nature, and as such, destined
only to rear strong, and healthy children for the State. Never
was there a society pretending to be civilized, in which care
was so industriously taken to degrade the human character.
Women were inured to the same sports, and exercises as men;
and there the equality ceased. There was no education for
either sex, no discipline fitted to inspire noble sentiments, and
to brace the mind against the temptations to which life in its
best estate is exposed. Women were taught to believe, that
an animal existence was their sole destination: whereas the
true design of placing men and women morally, and socially
on the same footing, is to counteract the strong tendency of
our animal nature, to master all the higher faculties; it is to
give a direction to the tastes, and pursuits of women, which
will elevate their character, and by so doing, act as a perpetual check both upon their own conduct, and upon the conduct
of men. The principle reason of the wide licentiousness
which now exists, is that beneath all the refinement and cultivation which adorns the manners, the sentiment is constantly
lurking, that women have been formed chiefly to gratify the
passions of men. The high standard of education which is
beginning to be introduced, is already operating a change in
this respect. The mere seclusion of women, so far from having
this effect, acts in a contrary direction.  It contributes to
pamper, and stimulate the passions. There is infinitely more
licentiousness of manners in Spain, Portugal, and Italy, than
in the United States, or Great Britain, where women have a
freer existence, and are placed intellectually more upon a
level with men. If we lift still higher their desires, and pursuits, their character upon well known principles of human
nature, will become still more elevated. One idea will no
longer reign supreme over the life of women, enfeebling their
understandings, and administering constant provocatives to




254                     ESSAYS.
the passions of both men, and women. The only effectual
moral restraint, the only one which can be depended upon to
produce genuine integrity of character, is that which is
created by education, meaning by education, the entire discipline which pervades the whole of life, and not merely the
period of youth.
Every one must have remarked the powerful influence which
serious occupations have in forming the character to correct,
and regular habits.  Deliver us from ourselves, deliver us
from the devouring appetities, and propensities, which consume life from puberty to the grave, would be the prayer of
the wise, and thoughtful. And fortunately, the circumstances
in which the great majority of men are placed, are such that
this end is attained without any set purpose on their part.
Man alone of all animal creation, is obliged to earn his subsistence by toil, and labor; and man is the only being who is
in danger of being run away with by his passions. His craving necessities, and the constant employment to which they
goad him, constitute the great balance wheel in his structure,
and convert him from a being of instincts and appetites, into
one of reflection and reason. In every country, the proportion of those who gain their subsistence by some sort of occupation, to those who are enabled to live upon an income, is
very large, probably nineteen to one; and nearly all of the
smaller number have previously accumulated the capital
from which their revenue is derived, by some kind of business. Labor which has been regarded as a curse, has proved
itself a blessing, for it contributes more than all the positive
institutions of society, to the happiness, and well being of
the community.
If women then are introduced into the engrossing accupations of life, the effect will be highly salutary. The habits of
industry, reflection, and self-reliance, which will be created,
will act as a counterpoise to the licentiousness which would
otherwise take place.'The circle of their ideas will be enlarged, greater vigor of character will be acquired; and as a
consequence, there will be a firmer, and a more general reliance upon themselves for the establishment of a reputation.
The more the responsibility of our actions, is cast upon ourselves, the stronger is the sense of that responsibility. Third,




ESSAYS.                      255
will the perfect equality of man and wife, mar the tranquility
of domestic life. Unity of counsel, and unity in action, are
as necessary in the family, as in the affairs of government.
Will this be frustrated by placing men, and women on an
equal footing. The decided elevation of women and children,
at the present day, has really contributtd more than any other
circumstance to domestic harmony. The free institutions of
the United States, combined with the improved system of
education which is adopted, have produced the result. Innumerable checks are thus placed upon the conduct of husbands,
wives, and children. These are unseen, and unfelt, and even
agreeable in their influence.  The same effect has been
wrought in the family as has been produced in the state, by
lifting the people to a higher condition. It was predicted in
Great Britain, when this new power was created to thwart the
purposes of the crown, and aristocracy, that the whole plan
of government would lose the character of unity which was
before impressed upon it. The reverse is the case: there is
more singleness of purpose discernible in all the acts of the
government because their interests are more identical than
was ever before known. Unity of action is sought through
diversity of counsel; and the more elevated the condition of
those who participate in both, the happier will be the result.
I have observed that, husband and wife wi!l often be partners
in the occupation which is followed for the maintenance of
the family. They will be partners in a professiont; or in one
or other of the great departments of ildustry: and this identity of pursuits, conspiring with an idenitity of interests, will
contribute to render the path of life easier, and more agreeable. To think alike with regard to the commonwealth, has
always been looked upon as forminig a strong bond of connection in public life  To think alike with regard to any
subject which is of Inagnilude sufficient to engross the affections, has the samne effrct; and more especially is it so, as
between two who are ulot, united by a temporary interest, but
who are embarked for life int the pursuit of a common end.
Perhaps all the ojects of buman purnsuit would sink into
insignificance, if looked down upon by a superior being.
Perhaps this is the sentiment of all in the hour of death.
But as we cannot clothe ourselves with a nature superior to




256                      ~ESSAYS.
that with which we were born, nor always possess the wisdom,
or weakness of a dying man, we must make the best of things
as they are, and endeavor so to mould the materials which
are placed at our command, as to extract from them the greatest amount of good.
I have avoided all detail in this examination.  I have
omitted a great many views which suggest themselves in answer to difficulties. I have studied brevity, and concision, as
I am writing an essay, not a volume. As Des Cartes said, all
he desired, was that the reader should imitate his method; so
all I desire, is that the reader will follow the vigorous analysis I have observed. It may be the means of conducting him
to the truth, on whichever side it lies.




257
APOTHEMS.
LIGHTS AND SHADES O1 HUMAN CHARACTER   OR, A SHORT
]BCOK OF APOTHEMS.
1. Occupation is the great secret of human enjoyment. It
is the golden spear with which to kill time.
2. We should not desire to enjoy life so much as to deserve
life. We should then be sure of the enjoyment.
3. They who do a great deal can find time for everything;
they. who do little can find time'for nothing.
4. The only wary to observe everything, is to seem to observe
nothing.
5. The power of combining and co-ordinating facts, is what
renders the memory strong and comprehensive.
6. So little true is it, that memory and judgment are incompatibles that a fertile memory is indispensable to a sound,
exact and comprehensive judgment.
7. The true use of all our knowledge is to teach us our
ignorance'.
8.. Some persons prey upon the infirmities of others, in order to supply an opiate to their own troubles.
9. The very'happy and the very miserable are those who
fear death least.
10. The ability to write a work is acquired in the progress
of writing it.
11. The whole scope of education consists in teaching us to
think.
12. The reputation of some persons depends upon the skill
with which they conceal their defects.
13. Some men tolerate their friends only to use them against
their enemies.
14. At no period of our lives are we more than half men.
In youth, our sensibilities gush through every vein; but we
pant for the vigor and self-assurance of tanhood, and when
17




258                    APOTHEMS.
these are attained, the blossoms of youth begin to fall off.
15. There is no absolute distinction between real and fictitious writing. The first proceeds upon known facts; the
second upon known principles: and principles are a generalization of facts.
16. They who are inured to the degradation of their own
existence, endeavor to deface the image of humanity in others.
17. There are two classes of minds: those of quick perception and those of intellectual power. The first catches at a
train of analogies; the second proceeds by way of analysis.
The conclusions of the first are guesses; those of the second
resemble demonstrative truths.
18. Some men appear to be quick because their organization
is such, that their affective qualities are not easily disturbed.
19. Incredulity is often only one form of credulity.
20. Men are never so much lauded as when they mix the
sublime with the ridiculous.
21. Amusements are sometimes mere devices to blunt the
pain of living.
22. So far from self-love and benevolence being inconsistent,
if we were able to love ourselves supremely we should love
mankind supremely. To love ourselves supremely would be
to love and cultivate all sorts of virtues and excellencies
supremely.
23. Tact in accommodating oneself to the world does not
constitute knowledge of human nature.
24. Some men have general talent-some peculiar talent.
The combination of the two makes mental ability.
25. Respect for humanity alone should make the infidel
keep silence.
26. If there were no death, there would be no virtue in the
world.
27. If all enjoyed perfect health, society would be a pandemonium.
28. Chronic disease, to which, in some form or other, half
mankind are subject, keeps the world in order.
29. Perfect health is as rare as perfect virtue.
30. All our virtues are the children of our infirmities.
31. Ill health often stirs the intellectual faculties. It quickens the feelings, and, by so doing, rouses the understanding.




APOTHEMS.                     259
32. Adversity, when it does not fairly subdue the mind, frequently arms it with more strength.
33. Some persons have an appearance of reserve, which is
mistaken for coldness. The reverse is the case; instead of
too little passion, they have an excess. The intensity of their
feelings makes them use constant efforts to suppress them;
and this restraint makes them appear cold.
34. The true use of books is to stimulate the mind to the
original and independent exercise of its own faculties.
35. Reading is of little advantage to many persons, because
they only read from ennui.
36. What we term talent is only a superlative sort of common sense.
37. They who make a distinction between talent and common
sense, confound common sense with vulgar sense.
38. Theory and experience are not contradictory; for all
science, and all knowledge, is but the condensation of human
experience.
39. The worst man has all the elements of the best, and
best all the elements of the worst.
40. No one can pronounce an opinion upon a work, or upon
another mind, without pronouncing one upon his own mind.
41. To know our ignorance is the consummation of our
knowledge.
42. Thought is the first, second and third requisite to all
mental excellence-of eloquence as well as of composition.
43. There are two kinds of eloquence-the one resides in
the mouth, the other in the heart and understanding. The
reason why the first has so much effect, is because it moves
our affective faculties, which are the strongest although the
lowest, while, the second is addressed to the higher faculties.
44. Experience in the moral world is like friction in mechanics. It modifies all our general rules.
45. Some persons are fond of saying that they can recollect
principles, but not facts. The true thinker recollects an
abundance of facts; for with their aid he deduces and constructs his principles.
46. The desire of fame, although "the last infirmity of noble
minds," is a mystery in the human character. If there were
no future, posthupotis fame would be without meaning. If




260                    APOTHEMS.
there is, what is the fame of a time compared with eternity.
47. Nothing contributes so much to longevity as the love of
life, and nothing so much to the love of life as the interest we
take in the variegated panorama of life.
48. It is curious to notice the varieties of intellect among individuals. Some have a great many of the secondary qualities in p)erfection; others have one or two striking qualities,
but are defective in others. In the blind the touch becomes
more acute:, so in those individuals who are blind as to some
faculties, others are strengthened, and they make amends for
their deficiencies by turning all their efforts in one channel.
49. Intellectual pursuits prolong the youth of the mind.
The intellectual man has more vitality than the unintellectual.
50. Wealth closes the door upon many of the ills of life;
but opens the door to a multitude of others.
51. Those who labor under defects of character, temper or
manners, are commonly addicted to scandal. The disadvantageous position in which they stand makes them try to make
amends for it, by heavy drafts upon the reputation of others.
52. We dislike those who tell us what others say to our disadvantage more than we do those others. These have at least
the modesty to keep in the back ground; while the first
thrust themselves forward, and yet speak only in the third
person.
53. Those who want the mental power requisite to grapple
with books often insist, that at any rate they have genius. They
believe that the negation of some qualities is a guarantee that
they possess others. They thus value themselves not for any
qualities which they do possess; but for those they are without.
54. The childish affectation which extols the ancients above
the moderns, is merely pardonable. It helps to keep the beau
ideal constantly in view. For the beau ideal is never so well
conceived, as when it is sought far in the future, or deep in
the past.
55. The greatest achievement of the human mind consists
in being able to draw the line definitively between the knowable
and the unknowable.
56. Envy is the homage which mediocrity pays to genius.
57. Public office is often a happy device for converting t
cipher into a round number.




APOTHEMS.                      261
58. Pride may be'the result of sensibility and diffidence;
for our nature is a scheme of compensations, in which the
weakness of one part is counterbalanced by strength in another part.
59. It is not a censorious feeling which makes men more
indulgent to their own faults than to those of others. The acquaintance which they have with their own bosoms, with the
infirmities which beset them, and their ignorance of these in
the case of others, makes the difference.
60. The pleasure which some persons take in seeing others
disconcerted and humiliated, does not arise so much from any
intrinsically bad feeling as from a desire to see some one who
is in a condition to sympathise with their own troubles.
61. Advice is of little avail: experience is our great instructor. But advice may have great influence, when it is so
painful as to become part of our- experience.
62. Concentration of feeling is as indispensable to all effective intellectual effort, as is concentration of thought,