legislation on the subject of servants, for they stand in a very
peculiar relation to their masters, and it would be well for all
parties if we had rules of the sort among ourselves. But there was
something ludicrous in seeing this important body gravely occupied in
discussing this minute feature in domestic economy, and that, too,
with an earnestness and zeal that had slumbered while the debate
concerning taxation lasted. One or two country members stammered
through speeches of great nicety and erudition, and one man was
carried away by such an ecstacy of admiration at the improvements of
the country, that he boldly affirmed one might now travel through
England and find silver forks and napkins in every inn! By the way,
if this be true, I have missed my road, for I saw nothing of the
sort between Dover and London. Another speaker was clearly a little
“how come you so,” but this is by no means unusual in parliament,
the papers having made five or six allusions to such scenes since I
arrived here. I have twice witnessed these exhibitions. I believe
they have been also seen in congress, in the night sessions; the
Anglo-Saxon race having a propensity to lower the head as well as to
raise the heels.
It would be unfair to cite this sitting as a specimen of what the
House of Commons is, in its better moments, though I feel persuaded
that the latter instances are the exceptions, while something very
like what I have here told you, makes the rule. I do not believe that
the average speaking of parliament is any better than that of the
state legislature of New York; though I beg you to understand that I
am not about to abuse my opportunities to renew the old discussion to
your manifest disadvantage. In making comparisons of this nature, it
is usual to overlook several important and qualifying circumstances.
The American legislative bodies are strictly the representatives
of the nation, or of certain geographical sections of the nation.
In tone, intelligence, deportment and education, they are but a
little above the average of their countrymen; if a small class, that
comprehends the very debased and vicious, be excluded, possibly not
at all. Parliament represents exclusively not only the rich, in the
main, but the landed interest, and is composed, almost entirely,
of men taken from the higher classes. Some of the consequences
which one would naturally expect from such causes are certainly
discoverable. The English of parliament, though far from faultless,
is, on the whole, materially better than that of congress. It could
hardly be otherwise, with the respective elements of the bodies we
are comparing, and when we recollect, moreover, the manner in which
population is compressed in England, and how much it is diffused in
America. It is the friction of constant intercourse which gives its
polish to society, and nothing could save us from downright rusticity
but the activity of a circulation that is out of all the ordinary
proportions of social communion. It may be too much to say that this
active and altogether peculiar blending of persons is _polishing_
America, but it is _chiselling_ the whole surface of society down to
a smoothness that destroys marked inequalities.
The House of Commons contains more than six hundred and forty
members,[13] whereas the House of Representatives contains but
about two hundred and twenty. Now a simple proposition in the rule
of three, will demonstrate that the former ought to possess nearly
three times as many good speakers as the latter, in order to be
relatively on a level with it. I greatly question if it has as many,
numerically speaking, alone. I believe that one hundred men can be
found in congress, who would, on an emergency, make much better
extemporaneous speeches, than one hundred of the best speakers in the
House of Commons. As between the House of Lords and the Senate, when
the relative numbers are considered, there is no comparison.
There is, however; another[however, another] side to this question, that must not be
overlooked. A large proportion of the English Commons, are laymen,
whereas a majority of Congress, perhaps, belong to a profession in
which the art of debating, or something very near it, is cultivated
as the means of subsistence. They lay great stress here on these
distinctions, as an anecdote that I will relate may give you to
understand.
The tories have recently made a great acquisition to their ranks, by
the entrance of a Mr. Sadler into parliament. He has just delivered
a speech that has made some noise, and which, if not literally so,
is deemed to be maiden, in reference to its importance. Walking up
St. James’s street the day after Mr. Sadler spoke, I met Lord ——, a
whig member of the House of Commons. He asked me if I had been in
the house the previous night, and then alluded to the effort of Mr.
Sadler. “The tories are making a great noise about him,” said Lord
——, “but we have found out that he is a _lawyer_! Every one thought,
at first, he was a _country gentleman_, but, lo and behold! he turns
out to be a lawyer!” It was not so easy, at first, to understand
the connexion between the merits or demerits of Mr. Sadler’s speech
and his profession, but a little further conversation gave me the
clue. In a social organization as factitious as this, things get to
be estimated by their relations to the different phases of society.
Success is _quoad hoc_. If a duke were to exhibit a picture, though
no great things of itself, thousands would rush to see it, as a
good thing for a duke. This spirit is particularly observable in
literature; a book written by a lord selling almost as a matter
of course, for his inferiors love to live, even in the equivocal
familiarity of thinking, in communion with a nobleman. Byron owes no
small portion of his popularity to his rank, for the better portions
of his works are by no means suited to the common English tastes.
While one smiles at these distinctions, it must not be forgotten
that they come fairly into the account in comparing the oratory
of parliament and congress. If we urge on one side that the same
conventional deportment and purity of pronunciation are not to be
expected in an American as in an English legislature, because one
represents an entire community and the other an _élite_, we cannot
refuse the plea that their system excludes a set of men trained
to public speaking, while ours freely admits them. In brief, the
question properly divides itself between the fact and its reasons.
The fact, I believe, to be as already stated, and I think that some
of the strongest qualifying circumstances on both sides, have here
been enumerated.
You will be curious to know what may be the effect of the cheering
and coughing system; or, perhaps it were better now to term it the
_bah-ing_ system. There can be no doubt that such practices open the
door to abuses of a more serious character than those which arise
from the liberty of talking by the day. One puts it in the power
of a majority to stifle reason and suppress facts, while the other
merely exhausts patience and consumes time. Now time is of much less
importance to congress than to parliament, since the powers of the
former extend only to certain great interests, while the latter, as
I have just shown you, legislates even about the servants of the
country.
It would be a great saving of time, and a great furtherance of
justice, if there were established a tribunal at Washington, to sit
constantly, whose sole business it should be to decide on private
claims against the government. An appeal might lie to Congress,
on the part of a public advocate appointed to protect the public
interests, or it might even be expedient to sanction all the
decisions by enactments, but, in nineteen cases in twenty, I think,
the two houses would take the reports of the tribunal as conclusive.
The auditors, it is true, form some such judicial officers now, but
the tribunal I mean would take cognizance of all the claims that at
present go before Congress, and might be contested, if improper, by
a law officer. We shall have such a court, in time, but not till we
think less as Englishmen and more as Americans.
We are too apt to consider parliament and congress as bodies of
similar powers, and, consequently, as recognising the same general
legislative maxims. This error has led to some of the most serious
evils to which our experience has given birth, and which, by
insensible means, unless corrected in time, will sooner or later lead
to a perversion of the governing principles of our own government.
Whatever may have been the ancient dogmas of the British
constitution, parliament is now absolute. It is true that the
executive, in theory, forms an integral part of parliament, but by
gradual and constant encroachments on the authority of the crown,
the ministers have become the creatures of parliament whenever the
latter sees fit to assert its authority, although a majority of the
latter is apt to be the creatures of ministers, in another and a
more limited sense. The members are bought, it will be remembered;
however, because they possess the power, and he who traffics away
his authority, in this mode, does not part with it entirely, but is
merely turning it to his personal account. The only power in England
that can resist parliament, is the body of the nation. As this is an
extra-legal force, forming no part of the system, it is to be found
everywhere, and is only more available in England than in Turkey,
because the nation is more enlightened. It is in truth the only
elementary check which exists on the action of the omnipotence of
parliament, all the others extending no further than they can go by
intrigue and management. This practical feature in her government,
gives England some sort of claim to be considered a republic.
Congress is composed of _attorneys in fact_, not only are its powers
expressly limited, but such is the nature of the trusts, that any
attempt to exceed them is a direct assault on the omnipotence of the
constituency. With us the executive is as much representative as the
legislature, the trustee of the power being a direct emanation of the
popular will. To attempt to control him, then, in the exercise of his
constitutional authority, is for an attorney named for one specific
trust to attempt to discharge the duties committed to another, named
for quite a different, and for an equally specific trust.
These are the general features of difference, which of themselves
are sufficient to give birth to very different legislative maxims,
and which _would_ give birth to them, were not traditions, more
efficacious, in such matters, than principles. But there are many
minor points that frequently agitate us, and which are commonly
settled on English principles, that are closely connected with a due
consideration of the discrepancies between the two polities. I will
illustrate my meaning, by an example.
The right of petition is justly esteemed an important English right,
whereas with us, it may be made the instrument of doing infinite
harm, while I question if a single case of its exclusive and
particular usefulness, could be cited.
In England, the right of petition is the only regular mode by which
the body of the nation can at all enter into the councils of the
nation. Apart from the fact that the constituencies are arbitrarily
wielded as mere political machinery, a vast majority of the English
have not even this indirect, and inefficient control over the
choice of their legislators. One body is hereditary, and the other
is chosen by a striking minority, even in theory; and, in fact, by
the influence of the aristocracy. Under such a system the right of
petition is doubly useful, for while it serves as a lever for the
mass, it also serves as a beacon to their rulers. A moderate and
timely application of this force may prevent an exercise of it that
would overturn the state.
The right to petition Congress existed entirely as a traditionary
right, until the constitution was amended. Certainly any man, or
any set of men could petition, as much as they pleased, but the
question now in consideration is whether there exists any governing
and important principle that would render it incumbent on Congress to
receive and consider their requests, had not Mr. Jefferson introduced
his amendment. As the people are directly, fully and always recently,
represented in Congress, there exists no plea on the score of the
necessity of adopting this mode of being heard, as in England. Under
such a system there is no danger of laws being passed, as in England,
to prevent county meetings being called without the sanction of an
officer of the government; and the people, if they wish it, have
always the expedient of assembling when, where and how they please,
to make their sentiments known. Congress has no power to pass any
such a law at all. Parliament may curb the press, but Congress is
absolutely impotent on this point. It was impotent, before the
amendment existed, for all these provisions were supererogatory. The
tendency of a government like ours, is to the doctrines of pledges
and instruction, (neither of which is tenable as a whole, though
true in part) and it would seem that they who claim a right to
_instruct_ can have little need to _petition_. But the objects of a
petition can be better obtained by another mode of proceeding. If
the people assemble in primary meetings, and put the subject of the
petition into the form of a printed memorial, and cause their names
to be published, such a document would be more likely to effect its
object, because it would be more authentic than the old method. It
would be in the way of being read, so as to be understood, a fate
which befalls few petitions, and names could not be surreptitiously
annexed without exposure, as is constantly practised with petitions.
All this will probably appear very much like heterodoxy, and yet I
think it all quite true. The subject might easily be extended to many
other practices. You may feel disposed to ask, why Mr. Jefferson,
a lover of independence, so far overlooked these distinctions as
to obtain an insertion of a clause in the constitution, by way of
amendment, securing the right of petition to the people? No man
is omniscient; and Mr. Jefferson, having been educated under the
monarchy, deferred more to its maxims, than would have been the case,
had he lived later. But General Lafayette has explained to me the
reason why several of the supererogatory clauses were introduced, in
1801. Mr. Jefferson was in Europe when the constitution was formed.
This instrument was a subject of great interest to the liberals
of this part of the world, who know little of the substratum of
freedom which exists with us, in the state governments. It was an
awkward thing to explain that Congress possessed no powers that were
not expressly ceded, when he was asked where were our guarantees
for liberty of conscience, and of the press, and for this right
of petition, which, in Europe, where the people cannot assemble
without permission half the time, and are not directly represented,
is justly deemed a right of the last importance. Under the feeling
created by the constant inquiries that he heard on these points, Mr.
Jefferson got the amendments, mentioned, introduced. At least, such
is the history of the transaction that I have received from General
Lafayette.
In ninety-nine cases in a hundred, petitions lead to no greater
injury, with us, than to a waste of time. Indeed, they are getting
to be rather unusual, the public feeling them to be unnecessary. It
resorts to a higher power, being the master. But petitions may work
peculiar evil, under a system like ours. If recognised as a right,
it is a mode of entering Congress with vexed questions, over which
Congress may have but a doubtful, or no proper control, and disturb,
uselessly, the harmony of its councils. A single member may do this,
also, it is true, but with less influence, and consequently with
less injury. Petitions are a sort of semi-official consultation,
and, besides letting the wishes of the whole, or of a part of the
people be known, which can be, at least, as well effected by other
means, they insidiously work their way into the debates, and enlist
the passions, prematurely, on subjects that may require great
forbearance to be disposed of wisely and with safety. It should
always be remembered, among other things, that instead of dealing
with citizens, our government is often called on to deal with states.
There is so strong a bias in men of reading to take warning from
history, under the just persuasion, that human nature continues
inherently the same, throughout all time, that they too frequently
neglect to ascertain whether the facts are identical, in preaching
their favourite doctrine, that “like causes produce like effects.”
Of course I now speak of petitions for political and general objects,
and not of those introduced to obtain private favours. The word
itself is unsuited to our form of government, and even in private
cases, would be worthily displaced, by substituting “Memorial.”
LETTER XI.
TO JAMES E. DE KAY, ESQ.
I was passing through Pall Mall, shortly after the town became so
crowded, when I saw a mermaid combing her hair before a small mirror,
as the crest on a chariot that stood at a door, and I at once thought
I recognised the arms of Sir Walter Scott. On examining nearer, I
found the bloody hand, which left no doubt that the literary baronet
was in town.
Among the persons whom a mistaken opinion that I was the son of ——
——, had brought to my door, was Sir G—— P——, a member of parliament,
and a strong whig. This gentleman had the good nature not to drop me,
when he found his error, but he proffered many civilities, which were
commenced by an invitation to dinner.
I do not remember to have seen a house with exactly the same
_entourage_, as that of Sir G—— P——’s. I had the street and number of
course, but when I got near the place, I found nothing but shops,
or dwellings of an appearance that did not indicate the residence of
an affluent baronet. At the precise number, however, I found such a
door as one might have expected to meet; and nothing but a door. It
had pilasters, fan lights, a neat entrance, and a massive knocker,
with two powdered and liveried footmen in waiting. Of course I gave
the magical raps, the “open sesame” of London, and was forthwith
admitted. “Pray, sir, does Sir G—— P——, live here?” The answer was
satisfactory, though _how_ he lived was to me still a matter of
wonder. An inner door was opened, and a long and wide passage lay
before me. At the end of this, we found the apartments of the family,
which appeared to be ample, and suited to the condition of my host.
As it was half-past seven, I had no opportunity of ascertaining how
the light was obtained, or what sort of objects one looked out upon
by day-light, though in a subsequent morning visit, I thought, in
this particular, London was a little outdone even in obscurity.
We had at dinner, on this occasion, Sir James M‘Intosh, Mr. Spring
Rice, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Dumont, a Swiss, known for his remarks on
Mirabeau, and other works, and two or three ladies, besides a few
gentlemen, connections of the family. I have little to tell you of
the entertainment, except that Sir James M‘Intosh conversed a great
deal, and as usual, exceedingly well. The English do not strike
me as being good talkers; even when they have more in them than
the French, they appear to have less at command. Still, I think it
possible to find, not a pleasanter perhaps, but a more masculine
circle in this capital than in that of France. If it were possible
to keep our sets distinct, we would not be very far behind them
either, for, as people, we are better talkers than the English, and
our practical habits give us generally truer notions of more things
than they are apt to possess; but, keeping sets distinct, in a town
like New York, for instance, is much like stopping the flock, when a
single sheep has escaped.
Sir James M‘Intosh, to-day, was severe on some of the provisions
of the common law, and frankly admitted that the English system
cherished many gross absurdities merely on account of their
antiquity. He alluded to the law of the half-blood, which he
pronounced to be an atrocity. I ventured to say, that I thought there
was one thing connected with the subject that was worse than the law
itself, which was Sir William Blackstone’s reason for it. At this he
laughed, and made several pithy and sound remarks on the aptitude
of men to take any absurdity on the credit of great names, and the
disposition to find good reasons for practices, however irrational or
unjust, that had got to form a part of our habits. I wished heartily
that some of our “reading classes” had been present, that they might
have heard the manner in which one who has been “brought up at the
feet of Gamaliel,” venerates their idols. Were I to seek those who
entertain false and exaggerated notions of the merits of the “Three
Estates,” I should not look for them here, among men of reflection
and education, but among the book-worms of America, or in that
portion of our people, among whom the traditions of their emigrant
fathers are still rife; and I would thus seek them, on the principle,
that one who wished to see a fashion caricatured, would not look
for an example in the streets of a great capital, but in those of a
remote provincial town.
The fact is, the _seemliness_ of England, its studied and calculated
decencies, often deceive near observers, and it is no wonder that
ardent admirers, at a distance, should be misled by so specious an
outside. I remember just before leaving home to have had a discussion
with an intimate friend, on the subject of close corporations. My
friend, is as honest a fellow as breathes, and what is more one who
loves his native land; not its cats and dogs, because they are _his_
cats and dogs, or, in other words, he is not a Broad-way-patriot,
but is a man who has a natural sentiment in favour of the land of
his fathers, takes an honest pride in its history, looks forward to
the future with hope, and has a manly appreciation of the leading
and distinctive features of its institutions. But, with all these,
and many other excellencies, he has rather a bookish predilection in
favour of things that have been prettily and coquettishly set forth
in English literature. Among other crotchets of this nature, he had
taken it into his head that, while it might be well enough to form a
broad base for society in the main, close corporations were very good
things, as wheels within a wheel. I remember that he particularly
instanced the New York Hospital, in proof of the justice of his
notions.
I believe the New York Hospital is almost the only institution we
have, that possesses this privilege. Now it is a distinction to
belong to any thing exclusive, and this circumstance, alone, has
induced a class of men to accept the trust, who would not dream
of it, were similar things common. This is one cause why the
privilege is not abused. Another reason is, that the community
gets a tone, either for good or for evil, by its prevalent habits,
and the effects which flow from open corporations, and which must
influence a solitary close corporation that happens to exist in
their neighbourhood, would be superseded by the effects of close
corporations were there more of the latter than of the former.
As Rome was not built in a day, neither is one isolated fact to
establish a theory.
I mention these things because the abuses of the English
close-corporation-system was the subject of conversation, to-day, and
I found the sentiment very generally against them. Some reform is
declared to be indispensable, in order to get rid of the corruption
that has grown up under the practice.