CHAPTER I.

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AMERICAN INSTITUTIONS AND THEIR INFLUENCE.

By Alexis De Tocqueville.

With Notes, by Hon. John C. Spencer.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851,

BY A.S. BARNES & CO.,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the

Southern District of New York.

ADVERTISEMENT.

The American publishers of M. De Tocqueville's "Democracy in America,"

have been frequently solicited to furnish the work in a form adapted

to seminaries of learning, and at a price which would secure its more

general circulation, and enable trustees of School District Libraries,

and other libraries, to place it among their collections. Desirous to

attain these objects, they have consulted several gentlemen, in whose

judgment they confided, and particularly the editor of the American

editions, to ascertain whether the work was capable of abridgment or

condensation, so as to bring the expense of its publication within the

necessary limits. They are advised that the nature of the work renders

it impossible to condense it by omitting any remarks or illustrations of

the author upon any subject discussed by him, even if common justice to

him did not forbid any such attempt; and that the only mode of reducing

its bulk, is to exclude wholly such subjects as are deemed not to be

essential.

It will be recollected that the first volume was originally published

separately, and was complete in itself. It treated of the influence

of democracy upon the political institutions of the United States,

and exhibited views of the nature of our government, and of their

complicated machinery, so new, so striking, and so just, as to excite

the admiration and even the wonder of our countrymen. It was universally

admitted to be the best, if not the first systematic and philosophic

view of the great principles of our constitutions which has been

presented to the world. As a treatise upon the spirit of our

governments, it was full and finished, and was deemed worthy of being

introduced as a text-book in some of our Seminaries of Learning.

The publication of the first volume alone would therefore seem to be

sufficient to accomplish in the main the objects of the publishers above

stated.

And upon a careful re-examination of the second volume, this impression

is confirmed. It is entirely independent of the first volume, and is

in no way essential to a full understanding of the principles and views

contained in that volume. It discusses the effects of the democratic

principle upon the tastes, feelings, habits, and manners of the

Americans; and although deeply interesting and valuable, yet the

observations of the author on these subjects are better calculated for

foreign countries than for our own citizens. As he wrote for Europe

they were necessary to his plan. They follow naturally and properly the

profound views which had already been presented, and which they carry

out and illustrate. But they furnish no new developments of those views,

nor any facts that would be new to us.

The publishers were therefore advised that the printing of the first

volume complete and entire, was the only mode of attaining the object

they had in view. They have accordingly determined to adopt that course,

intending, if the public sentiment should require it, hereafter to print

the second volume in the same style, so that both may be had at the same

moderate price.

A few notes, in addition to those contained in the former editions, have

been made by the American editor, which upon a reperusal of the volume

seemed useful if not necessary: and some statistical results of the

census of 1840 have been added, in connection with similar results given

by the author from returns previous to that year.

PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.

The following work of M. DE TOCQUEVILLE has attracted great attention

throughout Europe, where it is universally regarded as a sound,

philosophical, impartial, and remarkably clear and distinct view of our

political institutions, and of our manners, opinions, and habits, as

influencing or influenced by those institutions. Writers, reviewers, and

statesmen of all parties, have united in the highest commendations of

its ability and integrity. The people, described by a work of such a

character, should not be the only one in Christendom unacquainted with

its contents. At least, so thought many of our most distinguished men,

who have urged the publishers of this edition to reprint the work, and

present it to the American public. They have done so in the hope of

promoting among their countrymen a more thorough knowledge of their

frames of government, and a more just appreciation of the great

principles on which they are founded.

But it seemed to them that a reprint in America of the views of an

author so well entitled to regard and confidence, without any correction

of the few errors or mistakes that might be found, would be in effect

to give authenticity to the whole work, and that foreign readers,

especially, would consider silence, under such circumstances, as strong

evidence of the accuracy of its statements. The preface to the English

edition, too, was not adapted to this country, having been written, as

it would seem, in reference to the political questions which agitate

Great Britain. The publishers, therefore, applied to the writer of this,

to furnish them with a short preface, and such notes upon the text as

might appear necessary to correct any erroneous impressions. Having had

the honor of a personal acquaintance with M. DE TOCQUEVILLE while he was

in this country; having discussed with him many of the topics treated

of in this book; having entered deeply into the feelings and sentiments

which guided and impelled him in his task, and having formed a high

admiration of his character and of this production, the writer felt

under some obligation to aid in procuring for one whom he ventures

to call his friend, a hearing from those who were the subjects of his

observations. These circumstances furnish to his own mind an apology for

undertaking what no one seemed willing to attempt, notwithstanding

his want of practice in literary composition, and notwithstanding

the impediments of professional avocations, constantly recurring, and

interrupting that strict and continued examination of the work, which

became necessary, as well to detect any errors of the author, as any

misunderstanding or misrepresentation of his meaning by his translator.

If the same circumstances will atone in the least for the imperfections

of what the editor has contributed to this edition, and will serve to

mitigate the severity of judgment upon those contributions, it is all he

can hope or ask.

The NOTES are confined, with very few exceptions, to the correction of

what appeared to be misapprehensions of the author in regard to some

matters of fact, or some principles of law, and to explaining his

meaning where the translator had misconceived it. For the latter purpose

the original was consulted; and it affords great pleasure to bear

witness to the general fidelity with which Mr. REEVE has transferred

the author's ideas from French into English. He has not been a literal

translator, and this has been the cause of the very few errors which

have been discovered: but he has been more and better: he has caught the

spirit of M. DE TOCQUEVILLE, has understood the sentiment he meant to

express, and has clothed it in the language which M. DE TOCQUEVILLE

would have himself used, had he possessed equal facility in writing the

English language.

Being confined to the objects before mentioned, the reader will not find

any comments on the theoretical views of our author. He has discussed

many subjects on which very different opinions are entertained in the

United States; but with an ability, a candor, and an evident devotion

to the cause of truth, which will commend his views to those who most

radically dissent from them. Indeed, readers of the most discordant

opinions will find that he frequently agrees with both sides, and as

frequently differs from them. As an instance, his remarks on slavery

will not be found to coincide throughout with the opinions either of

abolitionists or of slaveholders: but they will be found to present a

masterly view of a most perplexing and interesting subject, which seems

to cover the whole ground, and to lead to the melancholy conclusion of

the utter impotency of human effort to eradicate this acknowledged evil.

But on this, and on the various topics of the deepest interest which are

discussed in this work, it was thought that the American readers would

be fully competent to form their own opinions, and to detect any errors

of the author, if such there are, without any attempt of the present

editor to enlighten them. At all events, it is to be hoped that

the citizens of the United States will patiently read, and candidly

consider, the views of this accomplished foreigner, however hostile they

may be to their own preconceived opinions or prejudices. He says: "There

are certain truths which Americans can only learn from strangers, or

from experience." Let us, then, at least listen to one who admires us

and our institutions, and whose complaints, when he makes any, are, that

we have not perfected our own glorious plans, and that there are some

things yet to be amended. We shall thus furnish a practical proof, that

public opinion in this country is not so intolerant as the author may be

understood to represent it. However mistaken he may be, his manly appeal

to our understandings and to our consciences, should at least be heard.

"If ever," he says, "these lines are read in America, I am well assured

of two things: in the first place, that all who peruse them will raise

their voice to condemn me; and, in the second place, that very many of

them will acquit me at the bottom of their consciences." He is writing

on that very sore subject, the tyranny of public opinion in the United

States.

Fully to comprehend the scope of the present work, the author's motive

and object in preparing it should be distinctly kept in view. He has

written, not for America, but for France. "It was not, then, merely to

satisfy a legitimate curiosity," he says, "that I have examined America:

my wish has been to find instruction, by which we might ourselves

profit."--"I sought the image of democracy itself, with its

inclinations, its character, its prejudices, and its passions, in order

to learn what we have to hope or fear from its progress." He thinks that

the principle of democracy has sprung into new life throughout Europe,

and particularly in France, and that it is advancing: with a firm and

steady march to the control of all civilized governments. In his own

country, he had seen a recent attempt to repress its energies within due

bounds, and to prevent the consequences of its excesses. And it seems

to be a main object with him, to ascertain whether these bounds can be

relied upon; whether the dikes and embankments of human contrivance

can keep within any appointed channel this mighty and majestic stream.

Giving the fullest confidence to his declaration, that his book "is

written to favor no particular views and with no design of serving or

attacking any party," it is yet evident that his mind has been very open

to receive impressions unfavorable to the admission into France of the

unbounded and unlimited democracy which reigns in these United States.

A knowledge of this inclination of his mind will necessarily induce some

caution in his readers, while perusing those parts of the work which

treat of the effects of our democracy upon the stability of our

government and its administration. While the views of the author,

respecting the application of the democratic principle, in the extent

that it exists with us, to the institutions of France, or to any of

the European nations, are of the utmost importance to the people and

statesmen of those countries, they are scarcely less entitled to the

attention of Americans. He has exhibited, with admirable skill, the

causes and circumstances which prepared our forefathers, gradually, for

the enjoyment of free institutions, and which enable them to sustain,

without abusing, the utmost liberty that was ever enjoyed by any people.

In tracing these causes, in examining how far they continue to influence

our conduct, manners, and opinions, and in searching for the means of

preventing their decay or destruction, the intelligent American reader

will find no better guide than M. DE TOCQUEVILLE.

Fresh from the scenes of the "three days" revolution in France, the

author came among us to observe, carefully and critically, the operation

of the new principle on which the happiness of his country, and, as he

seems to believe, the destinies of the civilized world, depend. Filled

with the love of liberty, but remembering the atrocities which, in its

name, had been committed under former dynasties at home, he sought to

discover the means by which it was regulated in America, and reconciled

with social order. By his laborious investigations, and minute

observations of the history of the settlement of the country, and of its

progress through the colonial state to independence, he found the object

of his inquiry in the manners, habits, and opinions, of a people who had

been gradually prepared, by a long course of peculiar circumstances, and

by their local position, for self-government; and he has explained, with

a pencil of light, the mystery that has baffled Europeans and perplexed

Americans. He exhibits us, in our present condition, a new, and to

Europeans, a strange people. His views of our political institutions are

more general, comprehensive, and philosophic than have been presented by

any writer, domestic or foreign. He has traced them from their source,

democracy--the power of the people--and has steadily pursued this

foundation-principle in all its forms and modifications: in the frame of

our governments, in their administration by the different executives, in

our legislation, in the arrangement of our judiciary, in our manners,

in religion, in the freedom and licentiousness of the press, in the

influence of public opinion, and in various subtle recesses, where its

existence was scarcely suspected. In all these, he analyzes and dissects

the tendencies of democracy; heartily applauds where he can, and

faithfully and independently gives warning of dangers that he foresees.

No one can read the result of his observations without better and

clearer perceptions of the structure of out governments, of the great

pillars on which they rest, and of the dangers to which they are

exposed: nor without a more profound and more intelligent admiration

of the harmony and beauty of their formation, and of the safeguards

provided for preserving and transmitting them to a distant posterity.

The more that general and indefinite notions of our own liberty,

greatness, happiness, &c., are made to give place to precise and

accurate knowledge of the true merits of our institutions, the peculiar

objects they are calculated to attain or promote, and the means provided

for that purpose, the better will every citizen be enabled to discharge

his great political duty of guarding those means against the approach

of corruption, and of sustaining them against the violence of party

commotions. No foreigner has ever exhibited such a deep, clear, and

correct insight of the machinery of our complicated systems of federal

and state governments. The most intelligent Europeans are confounded

with our _imperium in imperio_; and their constant wonder is, that these

systems are not continually jostling each other. M. DE TOCQUEVILLE has

clearly perceived, and traced correctly and distinctly, the orbits

in which they move, and has described, or rather defined, our federal

government, with an accurate precision, unsurpassed even by an American

pen. There is no citizen of this country who will not derive instruction

from our author's account of our national government, or, at least, who

will not find his own ideas systematised, and rendered more fixed and

precise, by the perusal of that account.

Among other subjects discussed by the author, that of the _political

influence_ of the institution of trial by jury, is one of the most

curious and interesting. He has certainly presented it in a light

entirely new, and as important as it is new. It may be that he has

exaggerated its influence as "a gratuitous public school;" but if he

has, the error will be readily forgiven.

His views of religion, as connected with patriotism, in other words,

with the democratic principle, which he steadily keeps in view, are

conceived in the noblest spirit of philanthropy, and cannot fail to

confirm the principles already so thoroughly and universally entertained

by the American people. And no one can read his observations on the

union of "church and state," without a feeling of deep gratitude to the

founders of our government, for saving us from such a prolific source of

evil.

These allusions to topics that have interested the writer, are not

intended as an enumeration of the various subjects which will arrest the

attention of the American reader. They have been mentioned rather with a

view of exciting an appetite for the whole feast, than as exhibiting the

choice dainties which cover the board.

It remains only to observe, that in this edition the constitutions of

the United States and of the state of New York, which had been published

at large in the original and in the English edition, have been omitted,

as they are documents to which every American reader has access. The

map which the author annexed to his work, and which has been hitherto

omitted, is now for the first time inserted in the American edition, to

which has been added the census of 1840.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

PREFACE BY THE AMERICAN EDITOR

Introduction

CHAPTER I.

Exterior form of North America

CHAPTER II.

Origin of the Anglo-Americans, and its Importance in Relation to their

future Condition

Reasons of certain Anomalies which the Laws and Customs of the

Anglo-Americans present

CHAPTER III.

Social Condition of the Anglo-Americans

The striking Characteristic of the social Condition of the

Anglo-Americans is its essential Democracy

Political Consequences of the social Condition of the Anglo-Americans

CHAPTER IV.

The Principle of the Sovereignty of the People in America

CHAPTER V.

Necessity of examining the Condition of the States before that of the

Union at large

The American System of Townships and municipal Bodies

Limits of the Townships

Authorities of the Township in New England

Existence of the Township

Public Spirit of the Townships of New England

The Counties of New England

Administration in New England

General Remarks on the Administration of the United States

Of the State

Legislative Power of the State

The executive Power of the State

Political Effects of the System of local Administration in the

United States

CHAPTER VI.

Judicial Power in the United States, and its Influence on Political

Society

Other Powers granted to the American Judges

CHAPTER VII.

Political Jurisdiction in the United States

CHAPTER VIII.

The federal Constitution

History of the federal Constitution

Summary of the federal Constitution

Prerogative of the federal Government

Federal Powers

Legislative Powers

A farther Difference between the Senate and the House of Representatives

The executive Power

Differences between the Position of the President of the United States

and that of a constitutional King of France.

Accidental Causes which may increase the Influence of the executive

Government

Why the President of the United States does not require the Majority of

the two Houses in Order to carry on the Government

Election of the President

Mode of Election

Crisis of the Election

Re-Election of the President

Federal Courts

Means of determining the Jurisdiction of the federal Courts

Different Cases of Jurisdiction

Procedure of the federal Courts

High Rank of the supreme Courts among the great Powers of the State

In what Respects the federal Constitution is superior to that of the

States

Characteristics which distinguish the federal Constitution of the United

States of America from all other federal Constitutions

Advantages of the federal System in General, and its special Utility in

America

Why the federal System is not adapted to all Peoples, and how the

Anglo-Americans were enabled to adopt it

CHAPTER IX.

Why the People may strictly be said to govern in the United States

CHAPTER X.

Parties in the United States

Remains of the aristocratic Party in the United States

CHAPTER XI.

Liberty of the Press in the United States

CHAPTER XII.

Political Associations in the United States

CHAPTER XIII.

Government of the Democracy in America

Universal Suffrage

Choice of the People, and instinctive Preferences of the American

Democracy

Causes which may partly correct the Tendencies of the Democracy

Influence which the American Democracy has exercised on the Laws

relating to Elections

Public Officers under the control of the Democracy in America

Arbitrary Power of Magistrates under the Rule of the American Democracy

Instability of the Administration in the United States

Charges levied by the State under the rule of the American Democracy

Tendencies of the American Democracy as regards the Salaries of public

Officers

Difficulties of distinguishing the Causes which contribute to the

Economy of the American Government

Whether the Expenditure of the United States can be compared to that of

France

Corruption and vices of the Rulers in a Democracy, and consequent

Effects upon public Morality

Efforts of which a Democracy is capable

Self-control of the American Democracy

Conduct of foreign Affairs, by the American Democracy

CHAPTER XIV.

What the real Advantages are which American Society derives from the

Government of the Democracy

General Tendency of the Laws under the Rule of the American Democracy,

and Habits of those who apply them

Public Spirit in the United States

Notion of Rights in the United States

Respect for the Law in the United States

Activity which pervades all the Branches of the Body politic in the

United States; Influence which it exercises upon Society

CHAPTER XV.

Unlimited Power of the Majority in the United States, and its

Consequences

How the unlimited Power of the Majority increases in America, the

Instability of Legislation inherent in Democracy

Tyranny of the Majority

Effects of the unlimited Power of the Majority upon the arbitrary

Authority of the American public Officers

Power exercised by the Majority in America upon public Opinion

Effects of the Tyranny of the Majority upon the national Character of

the Americans

The greatest Dangers of the American Republics proceed from the

unlimited Power of the Majority

CHAPTER XVI.

Causes which Mitigate the Tyranny of the Majority in the United States

Absence of central Administration

The Profession of the Law in the United States serves to Counterpoise

the Democracy

Trial by Jury in the United States considered as a political Institution

CHAPTER XVII.

Principal Causes which tend to maintain the democratic Republic in the

United States

Accidental or providential Causes which contribute to the Maintenance of

the democratic Republic in the United States

Influence of the Laws upon the Maintenance of the democratic Republic in

the United States

Influence of Manners upon the Maintenance of the democratic Republic in

the United States

Religion considered as a political Institution, which powerfully

Contributes to the Maintenance of the democratic Republic among the

Americans

Indirect Influence of religious Opinions upon political Society in the

United States

Principal Causes which render Religion powerful in America

How the Instruction, the Habits, and the practical Experience of the

Americans, promote the Success of their democratic Institutions

The Laws contribute more to the Maintenance of the democratic Republic

in the United States than the physical Circumstances of the Country,

and the Manners more than the Laws

Whether Laws and Manners are sufficient to maintain democratic

Institutions in other Countries beside America

Importance of what precedes with respect to the State of Europe

CHAPTER XVIII.

The present and probable future Condition of the three Races which

Inhabit the Territory of the United States

The present and probable future Condition of the Indian Tribes which

Inhabit the Territory possessed by the Union

Situation of the black Population in the United States, and Dangers with

which its Presence threatens the Whites

What are the Chances in favor of the Duration of the American Union, and

what Dangers threaten it

Of the republican Institutions of the United States, and what their

Chances of Duration are

Reflections on the Causes of the commercial Prosperity of the United

States

Conclusion

Appendix

INTRODUCTION.

Among the novel objects that attracted my attention during my stay in

the United States, nothing struck me more forcibly than the general

equality of conditions. I readily discovered the prodigious influence

which this primary fact exercises on the whole course of society, by

giving a certain direction to public opinion, and a certain tenor to

the laws; by imparting new maxims to the governing powers, and peculiar

habits to the governed.

I speedily perceived that the influence of this fact extends far beyond

the political character and the laws of the country, and that it has

no less empire over civil society than over the government; it creates

opinions, engenders sentiments, the ordinary practices of life, and

modifies whatever it does not produce.

The more I advanced in the study of American society, the more I

perceived that the equality of conditions is the fundamental fact from

which all others seem to be derived, and the central point at which all

my observations constantly terminated.

I then turned my thoughts to our own hemisphere, where I imagined that

I discerned something analogous to the spectacle which the New World

presented to me. I observed that the equality of conditions is daily

advancing towards those extreme limits which it seems to have reached

in the United States; and that the democracy which governs the American

communities, appears to be rapidly rising into power in Europe.

I hence conceived the idea of the book which is now before the reader.

It is evident to all alike that a great democratic revolution is

going on among us; but there are two opinions as to its nature and

consequences. To some it appears to be a novel accident, which as such

may still be checked; to others it seems irresistible, because it is the

most uniform, the most ancient, and the most permanent tendency which is

to be found in history.

Let us recollect the situation of France seven hundred years ago, when

the territory was divided among a small number of families, who were

the owners of the soil and the rulers of the inhabitants; the right

of governing descended with the family inheritance from generation to

generation; force was the only means by which man could act on man; and

landed property was the sole source of power.

Soon, however, the political power of the clergy was founded, and began

to exert itself; the clergy opened its ranks to all classes, to the poor

and the rich, the villain and the lord; equality penetrated into the

government through the church, and the being who, as a serf, must have

vegetated in perpetual bondage, took his place as a priest in the midst

of nobles, and not unfrequently above the heads of kings.

The different relations of men became more complicated and more

numerous, as society gradually became more stable and more civilized.

Thence the want of civil laws was felt; and the order of legal

functionaries soon rose from the obscurity of the tribunals and their

dusty chambers, to appear at the court of the monarch, by the side of

the feudal barons in their ermine and their mail.

While the kings were ruining themselves by their great enterprises, and

the nobles exhausting their resources by private wars, the lower orders

were enriching themselves by commerce. The influence of money began to

be perceptible in state affairs. The transactions of business opened

a new road to power, and the financier rose to a station of political

influence in which he was at once flattered and despised.

Gradually the spread of mental acquirements, and the increasing taste

for literature and art, opened chances of success to talent; science

became the means of government, intelligence led to social power, and

the man of letters took a part in the affairs of the state.

The value attached to the privileges of birth, decreased in the exact

proportion in which new paths were struck out to advancement. In the

eleventh century nobility was beyond all price; in the thirteenth it

might be purchased; it was conferred for the first time in 1270; and

equality was thus introduced into the government by the aristocracy

itself.

In the course of these seven hundred years, it sometimes happened that,

in order to resist the authority of the crown, or to diminish the power

of their rivals, the nobles granted a certain share of political rights

to the people. Or, more frequently the king permitted the lower orders

to enjoy a degree of power, with the intention of repressing the

aristocracy.

In France the kings have always been the most active and the most

constant of levellers. When they were strong and ambitious, they spared

no pains to raise the people to the level of the nobles; when they were

temperate or weak, they allowed the people to rise above themselves.

Some assisted the democracy by their talents, others by their vices.

Louis XI. and Louis XIV. reduced every rank beneath the throne to the

same subjection; Louis XV. descended, himself and all his court, into

the dust.

As soon as land was held on any other than a feudal tenure, and

personal property began in its turn to confer influence and power, every

improvement which was introduced in commerce or manufacture, was a fresh

element of the equality of conditions. Henceforward every new discovery,

every new want which it engendered, and every new desire which craved

satisfaction, was a step toward the universal level. The taste for

luxury, the love of war, the sway of fashion, the most superficial, as

well as the deepest passions of the human heart, co-operated to enrich

the poor and to impoverish the rich.

From the time when the exercise of the intellect became the source of

strength and of wealth, it is impossible not to consider every addition

to science, every fresh truth, and every new idea, as a germe of power

placed within the reach of the people. Poetry, eloquence, and memory,

the grace of wit, the glow of imagination, the depth of thought, and all

the gifts which are bestowed by Providence with an equal hand, turned

to the advantage of the democracy; and even when they were in the

possession of its adversaries, they still served its cause by throwing

into relief the natural greatness of man; its conquests spread,

therefore, with those of civilisation and knowledge; and literature

became an arsenal, where the poorest and weakest could always find

weapons to their hand.

In perusing the pages of our history, we shall scarcely meet with a

single great event, in the lapse of seven hundred years, which has not

turned to the advantage of equality.

The crusades and the wars of the English decimated the nobles, and

divided their possessions; the erection of communes introduced an

element of democratic liberty into the bosom of feudal monarchy; the

invention of firearms equalized the villain and the noble on the field

of battle; printing opened the same resources to the minds of all

classes; the post was organized so as to bring the same information to

the door of the poor man's cottage and to the gate of the palace; and

protestantism proclaimed that all men are alike able to find the road

to heaven. The discovery of America offered a thousand new paths to

fortune, and placed riches and power within the reach of the adventurous

and the obscure.

If we examine what has happened in France at intervals of fifty years,

beginning with the eleventh century, we shall invariably perceive that

a twofold revolution has taken place in the state of society. The noble

has gone down on the social ladder, and the _roturier_ has gone up; the

one descends as the other rises. Every half-century brings them nearer

to each other, and they will very shortly meet.

Nor is this phenomenon at all peculiar to France. Whithersoever we turn

our eyes, we shall discover the same continual revolution throughout the

whole of Christendom.

The various occurrences of national existence have everywhere turned to

the advantage of democracy; all men have aided it by their exertions;

those who have intentionally labored in its cause, and those who have

served it unwittingly--those who have fought for it, and those who have

declared themselves its opponents--have all been driven along in the

same track, have all labored to one end, some ignorantly, and some

unwillingly; all have been blind instruments in the hands of God.

The gradual development of the equality of conditions is, therefore, a

providential fact, and it possesses all the characteristics of a divine

decree: it is universal, it is durable, it constantly eludes all human

interference, and all events as well as all men contribute to its

progress.

Would it, then, be wise to imagine that a social impulse which dates

from so far back, can be checked by the efforts of a generation? Is it

credible that the democracy which has annihilated the feudal system, and

vanquished kings, will respect the citizen and the capitalist? Will it

stop now that it has grown so strong and its adversaries so weak?

None can say which way we are going, for all terms of comparison are

wanting: the equality of conditions is more complete in the Christian,

countries of the present day, than it has been at any time, or in any

part of the world; so that the extent of what already exists prevents us

from foreseeing what may be yet to come.

The whole book which is here offered to the public, has been written

under the impression of a kind of religious dread, produced in the

author's mind by the contemplation of so irresistible a revolution,

which has advanced for centuries in spite of such amazing obstacles, and

which is still proceeding in the midst of the ruins it has made.

It is not necessary that God himself should speak in order to disclose

to us the unquestionable signs of his will; we can discern them in the

habitual course of nature, and in the invariable tendency of events; I

know, without a special revelation, that the planets move in the orbits

traced by the Creator's fingers.

If the men of our time were led by attentive observation and by sincere

reflection, to acknowledge that the gradual and progressive development

of social equality is at once the past and future of their history, this

solitary truth would confer the sacred character of a divine decree

upon the change. To attempt to check democracy would be in that case

to resist the will of God; and the nations would then be constrained to

make the best of the social lot awarded to them by Providence.

The Christian nations of our age seem to me to present a most alarming

spectacle; the impulse which is bearing them along is so strong that it

cannot be stopped, but it is not yet so rapid that it cannot be guided:

their fate is in their hands; yet a little while and it may be so no

longer.

The first duty which is at this time imposed upon those who direct

our affairs is to educate the democracy; to warm its faith, if that be

possible; to purify its morals; to direct its energies; to substitute a

knowledge of business for its inexperience, and an acquaintance with its

true interests for its blind propensities; to adapt its government to

time and place, and to modify it in compliance with the occurrences and

the actors of the age.

A new science of politics is indispensable to a new world.

This, however, is what we think of least; launched in the middle of a

rapid stream, we obstinately fix our eyes on the ruins which may still

be descried upon the shore we have left, while the current sweeps us

along, and drives us backward toward the gulf.

In no country in Europe has the great social revolution which I have

been describing, made such rapid progress as in France; but it has

always been borne on by chance. The heads of the state have never had

any forethought for its exigences, and its victories have been obtained

without their consent or without their knowledge. The most powerful, the

most intelligent, and the most moral classes of the nation have never

attempted to connect themselves with it in order to guide it. The people

have consequently been abandoned to its wild propensities, and it has

grown up like those outcasts who receive their education in the

public streets, and who are unacquainted with aught but the vices and

wretchedness of society. The existence of a democracy was seemingly

unknown, when, on a sudden, it took possession of the supreme power.

Everything was then submitted to its caprices; it was worshipped as the

idol of strength; until, when it was enfeebled by its own excesses, the

legislator conceived the rash project of annihilating its power, instead

of instructing it and correcting its vices; no attempt was made to fit

it to govern, but all were bent on excluding it from the government.

The consequence of this has been that the democratic revolution has been

effected only in the material parts of society, without that concomitant

change in laws, ideas, customs, and manners, which was necessary to

render such a revolution beneficial. We have gotten a democracy, but

without the conditions which lessen its vices, and render its natural

advantages more prominent; and although we already perceive the evils it

brings, we are ignorant of the benefits it may confer.

While the power of the crown, supported by the aristocracy, peaceably

governed the nations of Europe, society possessed, in the midst of its

wretchedness, several different advantages which can now scarcely be

appreciated or conceived.

The power of a part of his subjects was an insurmountable barrier to

the tyranny of the prince; and the monarch who felt the almost divine

character which he enjoyed in the eyes of the multitude, derived a

motive for the just use of his power from the respect which he inspired.

High as they were placed above the people, the nobles could not but take

that calm and benevolent interest in its fate which the shepherd feels

toward his flock; and without acknowledging the poor as their equals,

they watched over the destiny of those whose welfare Providence had

intrusted to their care.

The people, never having conceived the idea of a social condition

different from its own, and entertaining no expectation of ever ranking

with its chiefs, received benefits from them without discussing their

rights. It grew attached to them when they were clement and just, but it

submitted without resistance or servility to their exactions, as to the

inevitable visitations of the arm of God. Custom, and the manners of the

time, had moreover created a species of law in the midst of violence,

and established certain limits to oppression.

As the noble never suspected that any one would attempt to deprive him

of the privileges which he believed to be legitimate, and as the serf

looked upon his own inferiority as a consequence of the immutable order

of nature, it is easy to imagine that a mutual exchange of good-will

took place between two classes so differently gifted by fate. Inequality

and wretchedness were then to be found in society; but the souls of

neither rank of men were degraded.

Men are not corrupted by the exercise of power or debased by the habit

of obedience; but by the exercise of power which they believe to be

illegal, and by obedience to a rule which they consider to be usurped

and oppressive.

On one side were wealth, strength, and leisure, accompanied by the

refinement of luxury, the elegance of taste, the pleasures of wit, and

the religion of art. On the other were labor, and a rude ignorance; but

in the midst of this coarse and ignorant multitude, it was not uncommon

to meet with energetic passions, generous sentiments, profound religious

convictions, and independent virtues.

The body of a state thus organized, might boast of its stability, its

power, and above all, of its glory.

But the scene is now changed, and gradually the two ranks mingle; the

divisions which once severed mankind, are lowered; property is divided,

power is held in common, the light of intelligence spreads, and the

capacities of all classes are equally cultivated; the state becomes

democratic, and the empire of democracy is slowly and peaceably

introduced into the institutions and manners of the nation.

I can conceive a society in which all men would profess an equal

attachment and respect for the laws of which they are the common

authors; in which the authority of the state would be respected as

necessary, though not as divine; and the loyalty of the subject to

the chief magistrate would not be a passion, but a quiet and rational

persuasion. Every individual being in the possession of rights which

he is sure to retain, a kind of manly reliance and reciprocal courtesy

would arise between all classes, alike removed from pride and meanness.

The people, well acquainted with its true interests, would allow, that

in order to profit by the advantages of society, it is necessary to

satisfy its demands. In this state of things, the voluntary association

of the citizens might supply the individual exertions of the nobles, and

the community would be alike protected from anarchy and from oppression.

I admit that in a democratic state thus constituted, society will not

be stationary; but the impulses of the social body may be regulated

and directed forward; if there be less splendor than in the halls of

an aristocracy, the contrast of misery will be less frequent also; the

pleasures of enjoyment may be less excessive, but those of comfort will

be more general; the sciences may be less perfectly cultivated, but

ignorance will be less common; the impetuosity of the feelings will be

repressed, and the habits of the nation softened; there will be more

vices and fewer crimes.

In the absence of enthusiasm and of an ardent faith, great sacrifices

may be obtained from the members of a commonwealth by an appeal to their

understandings and their experience: each individual will feel the

same necessity for uniting with his fellow-citizens to protect his own

weakness; and as he knows that if they are to assist he must co-operate,

he will readily perceive that his personal interest is identified with

the interest of the community.

The nation, taken as a whole, will be less brilliant, less glorious,

and perhaps less strong; but the majority of the citizens will enjoy

a greater degree of prosperity, and the people will remain quiet, not

because it despairs of melioration, but because it is conscious of the

advantages of its condition.

If all the consequences of this state of things were not good or useful,

society would at least have appropriated all such as were useful and

good; and having once and for ever renounced the social advantages of

aristocracy, mankind would enter into possession of all the benefits

which democracy can afford.

But here it may be asked what we have adopted in the place of those

institutions, those ideas, and those customs of our forefathers which we

have abandoned.

The spell of royalty is broken, but it has not been succeeded by the

majesty of the laws; the people have learned to despise all authority.

But fear now extorts a larger tribute of obedience than that which was

formerly paid by reverence and by love.

I perceive that we have destroyed those independent beings which were

able to cope with tyranny single-handed; but it is the government

that has inherited the privileges of which families, corporations, and

individuals, have been deprived; the weakness of the whole community

has, therefore, succeeded to that influence of a small body of citizens,

which, if it was sometimes oppressive, was often conservative.

The division of property has lessened the distance which separated the

rich from the poor; but it would seem that the nearer they draw to each

other, the greater is their mutual hatred, and the more vehement the

envy and the dread with which they resist each other's claims to power;

the notion of right is alike insensible to both classes, and force

affords to both the only argument for the present, and the only

guarantee for the future.

The poor man retains the prejudices of his forefathers without their

faith, and their ignorance without their virtues; he has adopted

the doctrine of self-interest as the rule of his actions, without

understanding the science which controls it, and his egotism is no less

blind than his devotedness was formerly.

If society is tranquil, it is not because it relies upon its strength

and its well-being, but because it knows its weakness and its

infirmities; a single effort may cost it its life; everybody feels the

evil, but no one has courage or energy enough to seek the cure; the

desires, the regret, the sorrows, and the joys of the time, produce

nothing that is visible or permanent, like the passions of old men which

terminate in impotence.

We have, then, abandoned whatever advantages the old state of things

afforded, without receiving any compensation from our present condition;

having destroyed an aristocracy, we seem inclined to survey its ruins

with complacency, and to fix our abode in the midst of them.

The phenomena which the intellectual world presents, are not less

deplorable. The democracy of France, checked in its course or abandoned

to its lawless passions, has overthrown whatever crossed its path, and

has shaken all that it has not destroyed. Its control over society has

not been gradually introduced, or peaceably established, but it has

constantly advanced in the midst of disorder, and the agitation of a

conflict. In the heat of the struggle each partisan is hurried beyond

the limits of his opinions by the opinions and the excesses of his

opponents, until he loses sight of the end of his exertions, and holds a

language which disguises his real sentiments or secret instincts. Hence

arises the strange confusion which we are beholding.

I cannot recall to my mind a passage in history more worthy of sorrow

and of pity than the scenes which are happening under our eyes; it is as

if the natural bond which unites the opinions of man to his tastes, and

his actions to his principles, was now broken; the sympathy which has

always been acknowledged between the feelings and the ideas of mankind,

appears to be dissolved, and all the laws of moral analogy to be

abolished.

Zealous Christians may be found among us, whose minds are nurtured in

the love and knowledge of a future life, and who readily espouse

the cause of human liberty, as the source of all moral greatness.

Christianity, which has declared that all men are equal in the sight of

God, will not refuse to acknowledge that all citizens are equal in the

eye of the law. But, by a singular concourse of events, religion is

entangled in those institutions which democracy assails, and it is not

unfrequently brought to reject the equality it loves, and to curse that

cause of liberty as a foe, which it might hallow by its alliance.

By the side of these religious men I discern others whose looks are

turned to the earth more than to heaven; they are the partisans of

liberty, not only as the source of the noblest virtues, but more

especially as the root of all solid advantages; and they sincerely

desire to extend its sway, and to impart its blessings to mankind. It

is natural that they should hasten to invoke the assistance of religion,

for they must know that liberty cannot be established without morality,

nor morality without faith; but they have seen religion in the ranks of

their adversaries, and they inquire no farther; some of them attack it

openly, and the remainder are afraid to defend it.

In former ages slavery has been advocated by the venal and

slavish-minded, while the independent and the warm-hearted were

struggling without hope to save the liberties of mankind. But men of

high and generous characters are now to be met with, whose opinions are

at variance with their inclinations, and who praise that servility which

they have themselves never known. Others, on the contrary, speak in

the name of liberty as if they were able to feel its sanctity and its

majesty, and loudly claim for humanity those rights which they have

always disowned.

There are virtuous and peaceful individuals whose pure morality, quiet

habits, affluence, and talents, fit them to be the leaders of the

surrounding population; their love of their country is sincere, and they

are prepared to make the greatest sacrifices to its welfare, but they

confound the abuses of civilisation with its benefits, and the idea of

evil is inseparable in their minds from that of novelty.

Not far from this class is another party, whose object is to materialise

mankind, to hit upon what is expedient without heeding what is just;

to acquire knowledge without faith, and prosperity apart from virtue;

assuming the title of the champions of modern civilisation, and placing

themselves in a station which they usurp with insolence, and from which

they are driven by their own unworthiness.

Where are we then?

The religionists are the enemies of liberty, and the friends of liberty

attack religion; the high-minded and the noble advocate subjection,

and the meanest and most servile minds preach independence; honest and

enlightened citizens are opposed to all progress, while men without

patriotism and without principles, are the apostles of civilisation and

of intelligence.

Has such been the fate of the centuries which have preceded our own?

and has man always inhabited a world, like the present, where nothing

is linked together, where virtue is without genius, and genius

without honor; where the love of order is confounded with a taste for

oppression, and the holy rites of freedom with a contempt of law;

where the light thrown by conscience on human actions is dim, and

where nothing seems to be any longer forbidden or allowed, honorable or

shameful, false or true?

I cannot, however, believe that the Creator made man to leave him in an

endless struggle with the intellectual miseries which surround us:

God destines a calmer and a more certain future to the communities of

Europe; I am unacquainted with his designs, but I shall not cease to

believe in them because I cannot fathom them, and I had rather mistrust

my own capacity than his justice.

There is a country in the world where the great revolution which I am

speaking of seems nearly to have reached its natural limits; it has

been effected with ease and simplicity, say rather that this country

has attained the consequences of the democratic revolution which we are

undergoing, without having experienced the revolution itself.

The emigrants who fixed themselves on the shores of America in the

beginning of the seventeenth century, severed the democratic principle

from all the principles which repressed it in the old communities of

Europe, and transplanted it unalloyed to the New World. It has there

been allowed to spread in perfect freedom, and to put forth its

consequences in the laws by influencing the manners of the country.

It appears to me beyond a doubt, that sooner or later we shall arrive,

like the Americans, at an almost complete equality of conditions. But I

do not conclude from this, that we shall ever be necessarily led to draw

the same political consequences which the Americans have derived from

a similar social organization. I am far from supposing that they have

chosen the only form of government which a democracy may adopt; but the

identity of the efficient cause of laws and manners in the two countries

is sufficient to account for the immense interest we have in becoming

acquainted with its effects in each of them.

It is not, then, merely to satisfy a legitimate curiosity that I have

examined America; my wish has been to find instruction by which we may

ourselves profit. Whoever should imagine that I have intended to write a

panegyric would be strangely mistaken, and on reading this book, he

will perceive that such was not my design: nor has it been my object to

advocate any form of government in particular, for I am of opinion that

absolute excellence is rarely to be found in any legislation; I have not

even affected to discuss whether the social revolution, which I believe

to be irresistible, is advantageous or prejudicial to mankind; I have

acknowledged this revolution as a fact already accomplished or on the

eve of its accomplishment; and I have selected the nation, from among

those which have undergone it, in which its development has been the

most peaceful and the most complete, in order to discern its natural

consequences, and, if it be possible, to distinguish the means by which

it may be rendered profitable. I confess that in America I saw more than

America; I sought the image of democracy itself, with its inclinations,

its character, its prejudices, and its passions, in order to learn what

we have to fear or to hope from its progress.

In the first part of this work I have attempted to show the tendency

given to the laws by the democracy of America, which is abandoned almost

without restraint to its instinctive propensities; and to exhibit the

course it prescribes to the government, and the influence it exercises

on affairs. I have sought to discover the evils and the advantages which

it produces. I have examined the precautions used by the Americans to

direct it, as well as those which they have not adopted, and I have

undertaken to point out the causes which enable it to govern society.

It was my intention to depict, in a second part, the influence which the

equality of conditions and the rule of democracy exercise on the civil

society, the habits, the ideas, and the manners of the Americans;

I begin, however, to feel less ardor for the accomplishment of this

project, since the excellent work of my friend and travelling companion

M. de Beaumont has been given to the world.[1] I do not know whether I

have succeeded in making known what I saw in America, but I am certain

that such has been my sincere desire, and that I have never, knowingly,

moulded facts to ideas, instead of ideas to facts.

Whenever a point could be established by the aid of written documents,

I have had recourse to the original text, and to the most authentic and

approved works.[2] I have cited my authorities in the notes, and any one

may refer to them. Whenever an opinion, a political custom, or a remark

on the manners of the country was concerned, I endeavored to consult the

most enlightened men I met with. If the point in question was important

or doubtful, I was not satisfied with one testimony, but I formed my

opinion on the evidence of several witnesses. Here the reader must

necessarily believe me upon my word. I could frequently have quoted

names which are either known to him, or which deserve to be so, in proof

of what I advance; but I have carefully abstained from this practice. A

stranger frequently hears important truths at the fireside of his host,

which the latter would perhaps conceal even from the ear of friendship;

he consoles himself with his guest, for the silence to which he is

restricted, and the shortness of the traveller's stay takes away all

fear of his indiscretion. I carefully noted every conversation of this

nature as soon as it occurred, but these notes will never leave my

writing-case; I had rather injure the success of my statements than

add my name to the list of those strangers who repay the generous

hospitality they have received by subsequent chagrin and annoyance.

I am aware that, notwithstanding my care, nothing will be easier than to

criticise this book, if any one ever chooses to criticise it.

Those readers who may examine it closely will discover the fundamental

idea which connects the several parts together. But the diversity of the

subjects I have had to treat is exceedingly great, and it will not be

difficult to oppose an isolated fact to the body of facts which I quote,

or an isolated idea to the body of ideas I put forth. I hope to be read

in the spirit which has guided my labors, and that my book may be judged

by the general impression it leaves, as I have formed my own judgment

not on any single reason, but upon the mass of evidence.

It must not be forgotten that the author who wishes to be understood is

obliged to push all his ideas to their utmost theoretical consequences,

and often to the verge of what is false or impracticable; for if it be

necessary sometimes to quit the rules of logic in active life, such

is not the case in discourse, and a man finds that almost as many

difficulties spring from inconsistency of language, as usually arise

from consistency of conduct.

I conclude by pointing out myself what many readers will consider

the principal defect of the work. This book is written to favor no

particular views, and in composing it I have entertained no design

of serving or attacking any party: I have undertaken not to see

differently, but to look farther than parties, and while they are busied

for the morrow, I have turned my thoughts to the future.

* * * * *

Notes:

[1] This work is entitled, Marie, ou l'Esclavage aux Etats-Unis.

[2] Legislative and administrative documents have been furnished me with

a degree of politeness which I shall always remember with gratitude.

Among the American functionaries who thus favored my inquiries I am

proud to name Mr. Edward Livingston, then Secretary of State and late

American minister at Paris. During my stay at the session of Congress,

Mr. Livingston was kind enough to furnish me with the greater part

of the documents I possess relative to the federal government. Mr.

Livingston is one of those rare individuals whom one loves, respects,

and admires, from their writings, and to whom one is happy to incur the

debt of gratitude on further acquaintance.

AMERICAN INSTITUTIONS.

CHAPTER I.

EXTERIOR FORM OF NORTH AMERICA.

North America divided into two vast regions, one inclining toward the

Pole, the other toward the Equator.--Valley of the Mississippi.--Traces

of the Revolutions of the Globe.--Shore of the Atlantic Ocean, where the

English Colonies were founded.--Difference in the Appearance of North

and of South America at the Time of their Discovery.--Forests of

North America.--Prairies.--Wandering Tribes of Natives.--Their outward

Appearance, Manners, and Language.--Traces of an Unknown People.

North America presents in its external form certain general features,

which it is easy to discriminate at the first glance.

A sort of methodical order seems to have regulated the separation of

land and water, mountains and valleys. A simple but grand arrangement is

discoverable amid the confusion of objects and the prodigious variety of

scenes.

This continent is divided, almost equally, into two vast regions, one of

which is bounded, on the north by the arctic pole, and by the two great

oceans on the east and west. It stretches toward the south, forming a

triangle, whose irregular sides meet at length below the great lakes of

Canada.

The second region begins where the other terminates, and includes all

the remainder of the continent.

The one slopes gently toward the pole, the other toward the equator.

The territory comprehended in the first regions descends toward the

north with so imperceptible a slope that it may almost be said to form

a level plain. Within the bounds of this immense tract of country there

are neither high mountains nor deep valleys. Streams meander through it

irregularly; great rivers mix their currents, separate and meet again,

disperse and form vast marshes, losing all trace of their channels

in the labyrinth of waters they have themselves created; and thus, at

length, after innumerable windings, fall into the polar seas. The great

lakes which bound this first region are not walled in, like most of

those in the Old World, between hills and rocks. Their banks are flat,

and rise but a few feet above the level of their waters; each of them

thus forming a vast bowl filled to the brim. The slightest change in the

structure of the globe would cause their waters to rush either toward

the pole or to the tropical sea.

The second region is more varied on its surface, and better suited for

the habitation of man. Two long chains of mountains divide it from one

extreme to the other; the Allegany ridge takes the form of the shores of

the Atlantic ocean; the other is parallel with the Pacific.

The space which lies between these two chains of mountains contains

1,341,649 square miles.[3] Its surface is therefore about six times as

great as that of France.

This vast territory, however, forms a single valley, one side of which

descends gradually from the rounded summits of the Alleganies, while

the other rises in an uninterrupted course toward the tops of the Rocky

mountains.

At the bottom of the valley flows an immense river, into which the

various streams issuing from the mountains fall from all parts. In

memory of their native land, the French formerly called this the river

St. Louis. The Indians, in their pompous language, have named it the

Father of Waters, or the Mississippi.

The Mississippi takes its source above the limit of the two great

regions of which I have spoken, not far from the highest point of the

table-land where they unite. Near the same spot rises another river,[4]

which empties itself into the polar seas. The course of the Mississippi

is at first devious: it winds several times toward the north, whence it

rose; and, at length, after having been delayed in lakes and marshes, it

flows slowly onward to the south.

Sometimes quietly gliding along the argillaceous bed which nature has

assigned to it, sometimes swollen by storms, the Mississippi waters

2,500 miles in its course.[5] At the distance of 1,364 miles from its

mouth this river attains an average depth of fifteen feet; and it is

navigated by vessels of 300 tons burden for a course of nearly 500

miles. Fifty-seven large navigable rivers contribute to swell the waters

of the Mississippi; among others the Missouri, which traverses a space

of 2,500 miles; the Arkansas of 1,300 miles; the Red river 1,000

miles; four whose course is from 800 to 1000 miles in length, viz., the

Illinois, the St. Peter's, the St. Francis, and the Moingona; besides a

countless number of rivulets which unite from all parts their tributary

streams.

The valley which is watered by the Mississippi seems formed to be the

bed of this mighty river, which like a god of antiquity dispenses both

good and evil in its course. On the shores of the stream nature displays

an inexhaustible fertility; in proportion as you recede from its banks,

the powers of vegetation languish, the soil becomes poor, and the plants

that survive have a sickly growth. Nowhere have the great convulsions

of the globe left more evident traces than in the valley of the

Mississippi: the whole aspect of the country shows the powerful effects

of water, both by its fertility and by its barrenness. The waters of

the primeval ocean accumulated enormous beds of vegetable mould in the

valley, which they levelled as they retired. Upon the right shore of the

river are seen immense plains, as smooth as if the husbandman had passed

over them with his roller. As you approach the mountains, the soil

becomes more and more unequal and sterile; the ground is, as it were,

pierced in a thousand places by primitive rocks, which appear like the

bones of a skeleton whose flesh is partly consumed. The surface of the

earth is covered with a granitic sand, and huge irregular masses

of stone, among which a few plants force their growth, and give the

appearance of a green field covered with the ruins of a vast edifice.

These stones and this sand discover, on examination, a perfect analogy

with those which compose the arid and broken summits of the Rocky

mountains. The flood of waters which washed the soil to the bottom of

the valley, afterward carried away portions of the rocks themselves;

and these, dashed and bruised against the neighboring cliffs, were left

scattered like wrecks at their feet.[6]

The valley of the Mississippi is, upon the whole, the most magnificent

dwelling-place prepared by God for man's abode; and yet it may be said

that at present it is but a mighty desert.

On the eastern side of the Alleganies, between the base of these

mountains and the Atlantic ocean, lies a long ridge of rocks and sand,

which the sea appears to have left behind as it retired. The mean

breadth of this territory does not exceed one hundred miles; but it is

about nine hundred miles in length. This part of the American continent

has a soil which offers every obstacle to the husbandman, and its

vegetation is scanty and unvaried.

Upon this inhospitable coast the first united efforts of human industry

were made. This tongue of arid land was the cradle of those English

colonies which were destined one day to become the United States of

America. The centre of power still remains there; while in the backward

States the true elements of the great people, to whom the future control

of the continent belongs, are secretly springing up.

When the Europeans first landed on the shores of the Antilles, and

afterwards on the coast of South America, they thought themselves

transported into those fabulous regions of which poets had sung. The sea

sparkled with phosphoric light, and the extraordinary transparency of

its waters discovered to the view of the navigator all that had hitherto

been hidden in the deep abyss.[7] Here and there appeared little islands

perfumed with odoriferous plants, and resembling baskets of flowers,

floating on the tranquil surface of the ocean. Every object which met

the sight, in this enchanting region, seemed prepared to satisfy the

wants, or contribute to the pleasures of man. Almost all the trees were

loaded with nourishing fruits, and those which were useless as food,

delighted the eye by the brilliancy and variety of their colors. In

groves of fragrant lemon-trees, wild figs, flowering myrtles, acacias,

and oleanders, which were hung with festoons of various climbing-plants,

covered with flowers, a multitude of birds unknown in Europe displayed

their bright plumage, glittering with purple and azure, and mingled

their warbling in the harmony of a world teeming with life and

motion.[8]

Underneath this brilliant exterior death was concealed. The air of these

climates had so enervating an influence that man, completely absorbed by

the present enjoyment, was rendered regardless of the future.

North America appeared under a very different aspect; there, everything

was grave, serious, and solemn; it seemed created to be the domain of

intelligence, as the south was that of sensual delight. A turbulent and

foggy ocean washed its shores. It was girded round by a belt of granite

rocks, or by wide plains of sand. The foliage of its woods was dark and

gloomy; for they were composed of firs, larches, evergreen oaks, wild

olive-trees, and laurels.

Beyond this outer belt lay the thick shades of the central forests,

where the largest trees which are produced in the two hemispheres grow

side by side. The plane, the catalpa, the sugar-maple, and the Virginian

poplar, mingled their branches with those of the oak, the beech, and the

lime.

In these, as in the forests of the Old World, destruction was

perpetually going on. The ruins of vegetation were heaped upon each

other; but there was no laboring hand to remove them, and their

decay was not rapid enough to make room for the continual work of

reproduction. Climbing-plants, grasses and other herbs, forced their way

through the moss of dying trees; they crept along their bending trunks,

found nourishment in their dusty cavities, and a passage beneath

the lifeless bark. Thus decay gave its assistance to life, and their

respective productions were mingled together. The depths of these

forests were gloomy and obscure, and a thousand rivulets, undirected in

their course by human industry, preserved in them a constant moisture.

It was rare to meet with flowers, wild fruits, or birds, beneath their

shades. The fall of a tree overthrown by age, the rushing torrent of a

cataract, the lowing of the buffalo, and the howling of the wind, were

the only sounds which broke the silence of nature.

To the east of the great river the woods almost disappeared; in their

stead were seen prairies of immense extent. Whether nature in her

infinite variety had denied the germes of trees to these fertile

plains, or whether they had once been covered with forests, subsequently

destroyed by the hand of man, is a question which neither tradition nor

scientific research has been able to resolve.

These immense deserts were not, however, devoid of human inhabitants.

Some wandering tribes had been for ages scattered among the forest

shades or the green pastures of the prairie. From the mouth of the St.

Lawrence to the Delta of the Mississippi, and from the Atlantic to the

Pacific ocean, these savages possessed certain points of resemblance

which bore witness of their common origin: but at the same time they

differed from all other known races of men:[9] they were neither white

like the Europeans, nor yellow like most of the Asiatics, nor black like

the negroes. Their skin was reddish brown, their hair long and shining,

their lips thin, and their cheek-bones very prominent. The languages

spoken by the North American tribes were various as far as regarded

their words, but they were subject to the same grammatical rules. Those

rules differed in several points from such as had been observed to

govern the origin of language.

The idiom of the Americans seemed to be the product of new combinations,

and bespoke an effort of the understanding, of which the Indians of our

days would be incapable.[10]

The social state of these tribes differed also in many respects from all

that was seen in the Old World. They seemed to have multiplied freely in

the midst of their deserts, without coming in contact with other races

more civilized than their own.

Accordingly, they exhibited none of those indistinct, incoherent notions

of right and wrong, none of that deep corruption of manners that is

usually joined with ignorance and rudeness among nations which, after

advancing to civilisation, have relapsed into a state of barbarism. The

Indian was indebted to no one but himself; his virtues, his vices,

and his prejudices, were his own work; he had grown up in the wild

independence of his nature.

If, in polished countries, the lowest of the people are rude and

uncivil, it is not merely because they are poor and ignorant, but that,

being so, they are in daily contact with rich and enlightened men.

The sight of their own hard lot and of their weakness, which are

daily contrasted with the happiness and power of some of their fellow

creatures, excites in their hearts at the same time the sentiments of

anger and of fear: the consciousness of their inferiority and of their

dependence irritates while it humiliates them. This state of mind

displays itself in their manners and language; they are at once insolent

and servile. The truth of this is easily proved by observation; the

people are more rude in aristocratic countries than elsewhere; in

opulent cities than in rural districts. In those places where the rich

and powerful are assembled together, the weak and the indigent feel

themselves oppressed by their inferior condition. Unable to perceive a

single chance of regaining their equality, they give up to despair, and

allow themselves to fall below the dignity of human nature.

This unfortunate effect of the disparity of conditions is not observable

in savage life; the Indians, although they are ignorant and poor, are

equal and free.

At the period when Europeans first came among them, the natives of North

America were ignorant of the value of riches, and indifferent to the

enjoyments which civilized man procures to himself by their means.

Nevertheless there was nothing coarse in their demeanor; they practised

an habitual reserve, and a kind of aristocratic politeness.

Mild and hospitable when at peace, though merciless in war beyond any

known degree of human ferocity, the Indian would expose himself to die

of hunger in order to succor the stranger who asked admittance by night

at the door of his hut--yet he could tear in pieces with his hands the

still quivering limbs of his prisoner. The famous republics of antiquity

never gave examples of more unshaken courage, more haughty spirits, or

more intractable love of independence, than were hidden in former times

among the wild forests of the New World.[11] The Europeans produced

no great impression when they landed upon the shores of North America:

their presence engendered neither envy nor fear. What influence could

they possess over such men as we have described? The Indian could live

without wants, suffer without complaint, and pour out his death-song

at the stake.[12] Like all the other members of the great human family,

these savages believed in the existence of a better world, and adored,

under different names, God, the Creator of the universe. Their

notions on the great intellectual truths were, in general, simple and

philosophical.[13]

Although we have here traced the character of a primitive people, yet it

cannot be doubted that another people, more civilized and more advanced

in all respects, had preceded it in the same regions.

An obscure tradition, which prevailed among the Indians to the north of

the Atlantic, informs us that these very tribes formerly dwelt on

the west side of the Mississippi. Along the banks of the Ohio, and

throughout the central valley, there are frequently found, at this day,

_tumuli_ raised by the hands of men. On exploring these heaps of

earth to their centre, it is usual to meet with human bones, strange

instruments, arms and utensils of all kinds, made of a metal, or

destined for purposes, unknown to the present race.

The Indians of our time are unable to give any information relative to

the history of this unknown people. Neither did those who lived three

hundred years ago, when America was first discovered, leave any

accounts from which even an hypothesis could be formed. Tradition--that

perishable, yet ever-renewed monument of the pristine world--throws no

light upon the subject. It is an undoubted fact, however, that in this

part of the globe thousands of our fellow-beings had lived. When they

came hither, what was their origin, their destiny, their history, and

how they perished, no one can tell.

How strange does it appear that nations have existed, and afterward so

completely disappeared from the earth, that the remembrance of their

very name is effaced: their languages are lost; their glory is vanished

like a sound without an echo; but perhaps there is not one which has

not left behind it a tomb in memory of its passage. The most durable

monument of human labor is that which recalls the wretchedness and

nothingness of man.

Although the vast country which we have been describing was inhabited

by many indigenous tribes, it may justly be said, at the time of its

discovery by Europeans, to have formed one great desert. The Indians

occupied, without possessing it. It is by agricultural labor that man

appropriates the soil, and the early inhabitants of North America

lived by the produce of the chase. Their implacable prejudices, their

uncontrolled passions, their vices, and still more, perhaps, their

savage virtues, consigned them to inevitable destruction. The ruin of

these nations began from the day when Europeans landed on their shores:

it has proceeded ever since, and we are now seeing the completion of it.

They seemed to have been placed by Providence amid the riches of the New

World to enjoy them for a season, and then surrender them. Those coasts,

so admirably adapted for commerce and industry; those wide and deep

rivers; that inexhaustible valley of the Mississippi; the whole

continent, in short, seemed prepared to be the abode of a great nation,

yet unborn.

In that land the great experiment was to be made by civilized man, of

the attempt to construct society upon a new basis; and it was there, for

the first time, that theories hitherto unknown, or deemed impracticable,

were to exhibit a spectacle for which the world had not been prepared by

the history of the past.

* * * * *

Notes:

[3] Darby's "View of the United States."

[4] Mackenzie's river.

[5] Warden's "Description of the United States."

[6] See Appendix A.

[7] Malte Brun tells us (vol. v., p. 726) that the water of the

Caribbean sea is so transparent, that corals and fish are discernible

at a depth of sixty fathoms. The ship seemed to float in the air, the

navigator became giddy as his eye penetrated through the crystal flood,

and beheld submarine gardens, or beds of shells, or gilded fishes

gliding among tufts and thickets of seaweed.

[8] See Appendix B.

[9] With the progress of discovery, some resemblance has been found to

exist between the physical conformation, the language, and the habits

of the Indians of North America, and those of the Tongous, Mantchous,

Moguls, Tartars, and other wandering tribes of Asia. The land occupied

by these tribes is not very distant from Behring's strait; which allows

of the supposition, that at a remote period they gave inhabitants to the

desert continent of America. But this is a point which has not yet been

clearly elucidated by science. See Malte Brun, vol. v.; the works of

Humboldt; Fischer, "Conjecture sur l'Origine des Américains;" Adair,

"History of the American Indians."

[10] See Appendix C.

[11] We learn from President Jefferson's "Notes upon Virginia," p. 148,

that among the Iroquois, when attacked by a superior force, aged men

refused to fly, or to survive the destruction of their country; and they

braved death like the ancient Romans when their capital was sacked by

the Gauls. Further on, p. 150, he tells us, that there is no example of

an Indian, who, having fallen into the hands of his enemies, begged for

his life; on the contrary, the captive sought to obtain death at the

hands of his conquerors by the use of insult and provocation.

[12] See "Histoire de la Louisiane," by Lepage Dupratz; Charlevoix,

"Histoire de la Nouvelle France;" "Lettres du Rev. G. Hecwelder;"

"Transactions of the American Philosophical Society," v. i.; Jefferson's

"Notes on Virginia," pp. 135-190. What is said by Jefferson is of

especial weight, on account of the personal merit of the writer, and of

the matter-of-fact age in which he lived.

[13] See Appendix D.