GOVERNMENT OF THE DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA.
I am well aware of the difficulties which attend this part of my
subject, but although every expression which I am about to make use
of may clash, upon some one point, with the feelings of the different
parties which divide my country, I shall speak my opinion with the most
perfect openness.
In Europe we are at a loss how to judge the true character and the more
permanent propensities of democracy, because in Europe two conflicting
principles exist, and we do not know what to attribute to the principles
themselves, and what to refer to the passions which they bring into
collision. Such, however, is not the case in America; there the people
reigns without any obstacle, and it has no perils to dread, and no
injuries to avenge. In America, democracy is swayed by its own free
propensities; its course is natural, and its activity is unrestrained:
the United States consequently afford the most favorable opportunity of
studying its real character. And to no people can this inquiry be more
vitally interesting than to the French nation, which is blindly driven
onward by a daily and irresistible impulse, toward a state of things
which may prove either despotic or republican, but which will assuredly
be democratic.
* * * * *
UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE.
I have already observed that universal suffrage has been adopted in
all the states of the Union: it consequently occurs among different
populations which occupy very different positions in the scale of
society. I have had opportunities of observing its effects in different
localities, and among races of men who are nearly strangers to each
other by their language, their religion, and their manner of life; in
Louisiana as well as in New England, in Georgia and in Canada. I have
remarked that universal suffrage is far from producing in America either
all the good or all the evil consequences which are assigned to it in
Europe, and that its effects differ very widely from those which are
usually attributed to it.
* * * * *
CHOICE OF THE PEOPLE, AND INSTINCTIVE PREFERENCES OF THE AMERICAN
DEMOCRACY.
In the United States the most talented Individuals are rarely placed
at the Head of Affairs.--Reasons of this Peculiarity.--The Envy which
prevails in the lower Orders of France against the higher Classes, is
not a French, but a purely democratic Sentiment.--For what Reason the
most distinguished Men in America frequently seclude themselves from
public affairs.
Many people in Europe are apt to believe without saying it, or to say
without believing it, that one of the great advantages of universal
suffrage is, that it intrusts the direction of public affairs to men
who are worthy of the public confidence. They admit that the people is
unable to govern for itself, but they aver that it is always sincerely
disposed to promote the welfare of the state, and that it instinctively
designates those persons who are animated by the same good wishes, and
who are the most fit to wield the supreme authority. I confess that the
observations I made in America by no means coincide with these opinions.
On my arrival in the United States I was surprised to find so much
distinguished talent among the subjects, and so little among the heads
of the government. It is a well-authenticated fact, that at the present
day the most talented men in the United States are very rarely placed at
the head of affairs; and it must be acknowledged that such has been the
result, in proportion as democracy has outstepped all its former limits.
The race of American statesmen has evidently dwindled most remarkably in
the course of the last fifty years.
Several causes may be assigned to this phenomenon. It is impossible,
notwithstanding the most strenuous exertions, to raise the intelligence
of the people above a certain level. Whatever may be the facilities of
acquiring information, whatever may be the profusion of easy methods and
of cheap science, the human mind can never be instructed and educated
without devoting a considerable space of time to those objects.
The greater or the lesser possibility of subsisting without labor is
therefore the necessary boundary of intellectual improvement. This
boundary is more remote in some countries, and more restricted in
others; but it must exist somewhere as long as the people is constrained
to work in order to procure the means of physical subsistence, that is
to say, as long as it retains its popular character. It is therefore
quite as difficult to imagine a state in which all the citizens should
be very well-informed, as a state in which they should all be wealthy;
these two difficulties may be looked upon as correlative. It may very
readily be admitted that the mass of the citizens are sincerely disposed
to promote the welfare of their country; nay more, it may even
be allowed that the lower classes are less apt to be swayed by
considerations of personal interest than the higher orders; but it is
always more or less impossible for them to discern the best means of
attaining the end, which they desire with sincerity. Long and patient
observation, joined to a multitude of different notions, is required to
form a just estimate of the character of a single individual; and can it
be supposed that the vulgar have the power of succeeding in an inquiry
which misleads the penetration of genius itself? The people has neither
the time nor the means which are essential to the prosecution of an
investigation of this kind; its conclusions are hastily formed from a
superficial inspection of the more prominent features of a question.
Hence it often assents to the clamor of a mountebank, who knows the
secret of stimulating its tastes; while its truest friends frequently
fail in their exertions.
Moreover, the democracy is not only deficient in that soundness of
judgment which is necessary to select men really deserving of its
confidence, but it has neither the desire nor the inclination to find
them out. It cannot be denied that democratic institutions have a very
strong tendency to promote the feeling of envy in the human heart; not
so much because they afford to every one the means of rising to the
level of any of his fellow-citizens, as because those means perpetually
disappoint the persons who employ them. Democratic institutions awaken
and foster a passion for equality which they can never entirely satisfy.
This complete equality eludes the grasp of the people at the very moment
when it thinks to hold it fast, and "flies," as Pascal says, "with
eternal flight;" the people is excited in the pursuit of an advantage,
which is the more precious because it is not sufficiently remote to
be unknown, or sufficiently near to be enjoyed. The lower orders
are agitated by the chance of success, they are irritated by its
uncertainty; and they pass from the enthusiasm of pursuit to the
exhaustion of ill-success, and lastly to the acrimony of disappointment.
Whatever transcends their own limits appears to be an obstacle to their
desires, and there is no kind of superiority, however legitimate it may
be, which is not irksome in their sight.
It has been supposed that the secret instinct, which leads the lower
orders to remove their superiors as much as possible from the direction
of public affairs, is peculiar to France. This, however, is an error;
the propensity to which I allude is not inherent in any particular
nation, but in democratic institutions in general; and although it may
have been heightened by peculiar political circumstances, it owes its
origin to a higher cause.
In the United States, the people is not disposed to hate the superior
class of society; but it is not very favorably inclined toward them, and
it carefully excludes them from the exercise of authority. It does
not entertain any dread of distinguished talents, but it is rarely
captivated by them; and it awards its approbation very sparingly to such
as have risen without the popular support.
While the natural propensities of democracy induce the people to reject
the most distinguished citizens as its rulers, these individuals are
no less apt to retire from a political career, in which it is almost
impossible to retain their independence, or to advance without degrading
themselves. This opinion has been very candidly set forth by Chancellor
Kent, who says, in speaking with great eulogium of that part of the
constitution which empowers the executive to nominate the judges: "It is
indeed probable that the men who are best fitted to discharge the duties
of this high office would have too much reserve in their manners, and
too much austerity in their principles, for them to be returned by the
majority at an election where universal suffrage is adopted." Such were
the opinions which were printed without contradiction in America in the
year 1830.
I hold it to be sufficiently demonstrated, that universal suffrage is
by no means a guarantee of the wisdom of the popular choice; and that
whatever its advantages may be, this is not one of them.
* * * * *
CAUSES WHICH MAY PARTLY CORRECT THESE TENDENCIES OF THE DEMOCRACY.
Contrary Effects produced on Peoples as well as on individuals by great
Dangers.--Why so many distinguished Men stood at the Head of Affairs
in America fifty Years ago.--Influence which the intelligence and
the Manners of the People exercise upon its choice.--Example of New
England.--States of the Southwest--Influence of certain Laws upon the
Choice of the People.--Election by an elected Body.--Its Effects upon
the Composition of the Senate.
When a state is threatened by serious dangers, the people frequently
succeed in selecting the citizens who are the most able to save it.
It has been observed that man rarely retains his customary level in
presence of very critical circumstances; he rises above, or he sinks
below, his usual condition, and the same thing occurs in nations at
large. Extreme perils sometimes quench the energy of a people instead of
stimulating it; they excite without directing its passions; and instead
of clearing, they confuse its powers of perception. The Jews deluged the
smoking ruins of their temples with the carnage of the remnant of their
host. But it is more common, both in the case of nations and in that
of individuals, to find extraordinary virtues arising from the very
imminence of the danger. Great characters are then thrown into
relief, as the edifices which are concealed by the gloom of night, are
illuminated by the glare of a conflagration. At those dangerous times
genius no longer abstains from presenting itself in the arena; and
the people, alarmed by the perils of its situation, buries its envious
passions in a short oblivion. Great names may then be drawn from the urn
of an election.
I have already observed that the American statesmen of the present day
are very inferior to those who stood at the head of affairs fifty years
ago. This is as much a consequence of the circumstances, as of the
laws of the country. When America was struggling in the high cause of
independence to throw off the yoke of another country, and when it
was about to usher a new nation into the world, the spirits of its
inhabitants were roused to the height which their great efforts
required. In this general excitement, the most distinguished men were
ready to forestall the wants of the community, and the people clung
to them for support, and placed them at its head. But events of this
magnitude are rare; and it is from an inspection of the ordinary course
of affairs that our judgment must be formed.
If passing occurrences sometimes act as checks upon the passions of
democracy, the intelligence and the manners of the community exercise
an influence which is not less powerful, and far more permanent. This is
extremely perceptible in the United States.
In New England the education and the liberties of the communities were
engendered by the moral and religious principles of their founders.
Where society has acquired a sufficient degree of stability to enable it
to hold certain maxims and to retain fixed habits, the lower orders
are accustomed to respect intellectual superiority, and to submit to
it without complaint, although they set at naught all those privileges
which wealth and birth have introduced among mankind. The democracy
in New England consequently makes a more judicious choice than it does
elsewhere.
But as we descend toward the south, to those states in which the
constitution of society is more modern and less strong, where
instruction is less general, and where the principles of morality, of
religion, and of liberty, are less happily combined, we perceive that
the talents and the virtues of those who are in authority become more
and more rare.
Lastly, when we arrive at the new southwestern states, in which the
constitution of society dates but from yesterday, and presents an
agglomeration of adventurers and speculators, we are amazed at the
persons who are invested with public authority, and we are led to ask by
what force, independent of the legislation and of the men who direct it,
the state can be protected, and society be made to flourish.
There are certain laws of a democratic nature which contribute,
nevertheless, to correct, in some measure, the dangerous tendencies of
democracy. On entering the house of representatives at Washington,
one is struck by the vulgar demeanor of that great assembly. The eye
frequently does not discover a man of celebrity within its walls. Its
members are almost all obscure individuals, whose names present no
associations to the mind: they are mostly village-lawyers, men in trade,
or even persons belonging to the lower classes of society. In a country
in which education is very general, it is said that the representatives
of the people do not always know how to write correctly.
At a few yards distance from this spot is the door of the senate, which
contains within a small space a large proportion of the celebrated men
of America. Scarcely an individual is to be perceived in it who does
not recall the idea of an active and illustrious career: the senate
is composed of eloquent advocates, distinguished generals, wise
magistrates, and statesmen of note, whose language would at all times do
honor to the most remarkable parliamentary debates of Europe.
What then is the cause of this strange contrast, and why are the most
able citizens to be found in one assembly rather than in the other?
Why is the former body remarkable for its vulgarity and its poverty of
talent, while the latter seems to enjoy a monopoly of intelligence and
of sound judgment? Both of these assemblies emanate from the people;
both of them are chosen by universal suffrage; and no voice has hitherto
been heard to assert, in America, that the senate is hostile to the
interests of the people. From what cause, then, does so startling a
difference arise? The only reason which appears to me adequately to
account for it is, that the house of representatives is elected by the
populace directly, and that of the senate is elected by elected bodies.
The whole body of the citizens names the legislature of each state,
and the federal constitution converts these legislatures into so many
electoral bodies, which return the members of the senate. The senators
are elected by an indirect application of universal suffrage; for the
legislatures which name them are not aristocratic or privileged bodies
which exercise the electoral franchise in their own right; but they are
chosen by the totality of the citizens; they are generally elected every
year, and new members may constantly be chosen, who will employ their
electoral rights in conformity with the wishes of the public. But this
transmission of the popular authority through an assembly of chosen
men, operates an important change in it, by refining its discretion and
improving the forms which it adopts. Men who are chosen in this manner,
accurately represent the majority of the nation which governs them; but
they represent the elevated thoughts which are current in the community,
the generous propensities which prompt its nobler actions, rather than
the petty passions which disturb, or the vices which disgrace it.
The time may be already anticipated at which the American republics will
be obliged to introduce the plan of election by an elected body more
frequently into their system of representation, or they will incur no
small risk of perishing miserably among the shoals of democracy.
And here I have no scruple in confessing that I look upon this peculiar
system of election as the only means of bringing the exercise of
political power to the level of all classes of the people. Those
thinkers who regard this institution as the exclusive weapon of a party,
and those who fear, on the other hand, to make use of it, seem to me to
fall into as great an error in the one case as in the other.
* * * * *
INFLUENCE WHICH THE AMERICAN DEMOCRACY HAS EXERCISED ON THE LAWS
RELATING TO ELECTIONS.
When Elections are rare, they expose the State to a violent
Crisis.--When they are frequent, they keep up a degree of feverish
Excitement.--The Americans have preferred the second of these two
Evils.--Mutability of the Laws.--Opinions of Hamilton and Jefferson on
this Subject.
When elections recur at long intervals, the state is exposed to violent
agitation every time they take place. Parties exert themselves to the
utmost in order to gain a prize which is so rarely within their reach;
and as the evil is almost irremediable for the candidates who fail, the
consequence of their disappointed ambition may prove most disastrous:
if, on the other hand, the legal struggle can be repeated within a short
space of time, the defeated parties take patience.
When elections occur frequently, this recurrence keeps society in
a perpetual state of feverish excitement, and imparts a continual
instability to public affairs.
Thus, on the one hand, the state is exposed to the perils of a
revolution, on the other, to perpetual mutability; the former system
threatens the very existence of the government, the latter is an
obstacle to all steady and consistent policy. The Americans have
preferred the second of these evils to the first; but they were led to
this conclusion by their instinct much more than by their reason; for a
taste for variety is one of the characteristic passions of democracy. An
extraordinary mutability has, by this means, been introduced into their
legislation.
Many of the Americans consider the instability of their laws as a
necessary consequence of a system whose general results are beneficial.
But no one in the United States affects to deny the fact of this
instability, or to contend that it is not a great evil.
Hamilton, after having demonstrated the utility of a power which might
prevent, or which might at least impede, the promulgation of bad laws,
adds: "It may perhaps be said that the power of preventing bad laws
includes that of preventing good ones, and may be used to the one
purpose as well as to the other. But this objection will have but
little weight with those who can properly estimate the mischiefs of that
inconstancy and mutability in the laws which form the greatest blemish
in the character and genius of our government."--(Federalist, No. 73.)
And again, in No. 62 of the same work, he observes: "The facility and
excess of law-making seem to be the diseases to which our governments
are most liable.... The mischievous effects of the mutability in the
public councils arising from a rapid succession of new members, would
fill a volume; every new election in the states is found to change one
half of the representatives. From this change of men must proceed
a change of opinions and of measures which forfeits the respect and
confidence of nations, poisons the blessings of liberty itself, and
diminishes the attachment and reverence of the people toward a political
system which betrays so many marks of infirmity."
Jefferson himself, the greatest democrat whom the democracy of America
has as yet produced, pointed out the same evils.
"The instability of our laws," he said in a letter to Madison, "is
really a very serious inconvenience. I think we ought to have obviated
it by deciding that a whole year should always be allowed to elapse
between the bringing in of a bill and the final passing of it. It should
afterward be discussed and put to the vote without the possibility
of making any alteration in it; and if the circumstances of the case
required a more speedy decision, the question should not be decided by
a simple majority, but by a majority of at least two thirds of both
houses."
* * * * *
PUBLIC OFFICERS UNDER THE CONTROL OF THE DEMOCRACY OF AMERICA.
Simple Exterior of the American public Officers.--No official
Costume.--All public Officers are remunerated.--Political Consequences
of this System.--No public Career exists in America.--Result of this.
Public officers in the United States are commingled with the crowd
of citizens; they have neither palaces, nor guards, nor ceremonial
costumes. This simple exterior of the persons in authority is connected,
not only with the peculiarities of the American character, but with
the fundamental principles of that society. In the estimation of the
democracy, a government is not a benefit, but a necessary evil. A
certain degree of power must be granted to public officers, for they
would be of no use without it. But the ostensible semblance of authority
is by no means indispensable to the conduct of affairs; and it is
needlessly offensive to the susceptibility of the public. The public
officers themselves are well aware that they only enjoy the superiority
over their fellow citizens, which they derive from their authority, upon
condition of putting themselves on a level with the whole community by
their manners. A public officer in the United States is uniformly civil,
accessible to all the world, attentive to all requests, and obliging in
all his replies. I was pleased by these characteristics of a democratic
government; and I was struck by the manly independence of the citizens,
who respect the office more than the officer, and who are less attached
to the emblems of authority than to the man who bears them.
I am inclined to believe that the influence which costumes really
exercise, in an age like that in which we live, has been a good deal
exaggerated. I never perceived that a public officer in America was the
less respected while he was in the discharge of his duties because his
own merit was set off by no adventitious signs. On the other hand, it is
very doubtful whether a peculiar dress contributes to the respect which
public characters ought to have for their own position, at least when
they are not otherwise inclined to respect it. When a magistrate (and
in France such instances are not rare), indulges his trivial wit at the
expense of a prisoner, or derides a predicament in which a culprit is
placed, it would be well to deprive him of his robes of office, to see
whether he would recall some portion of the natural dignity of mankind
when he is reduced to the apparel of a private citizen.
A democracy may, however, allow a certain show of magisterial pomp, and
clothe its officers in silks and gold, without seriously compromising
its principles. Privileges of this kind are transitory; they belong to
the place, and are distinct from the individual: but if public officers
are not uniformly remunerated by the state, the public charges must be
intrusted to men of opulence and independence, who constitute the
basis of an aristocracy; and if the people still retains its right
of election, that election can only be made from a certain class of
citizens.
When a democratic republic renders offices which had formerly been
remunerated, gratuitous, it may safely be believed that that state is
advancing to monarchical institutions; and when a monarchy begins to
remunerate such officers as had hitherto been unpaid, it is a sure
sign that it is approaching toward a despotic or a republican form of
government. The substitution of paid for unpaid functionaries is of
itself, in my opinion, sufficient to constitute a serious revolution.
I look upon the entire absence of gratuitous functionaries in America as
one of the most prominent signs of the absolute dominion which democracy
exercises in that country. All public services, of whatsoever nature
they may be, are paid; so that every one has not merely a right, but
also the means of performing them. Although, in democratic states, all
the citizens are qualified to occupy stations in the government, all
are not tempted to try for them. The number and the capacities of the
candidates are more apt to restrict the choice of electors than the
conditions of the candidateship.
In nations in which the principle of election extends to every place in
the state, no political career can, properly speaking, be said to exist.
Men are promoted as if by chance to the rank which they enjoy, and
they are by no means sure of retaining it. The consequence is that in
tranquil times public functions offer but few lures to ambition. In the
United States the persons who engage in the perplexities of political
life are individuals of very moderate pretensions. The pursuit of wealth
generally diverts men of great talents and of great passions from the
pursuit of power; and it very frequently happens that a man does not
undertake to direct the fortune of the state until he has discovered
his incompetence to conduct his own affairs. The vast number of very
ordinary men who occupy public stations is quite as attributable to
these causes as to the bad choice of the democracy. In the United
States, I am not sure that the people would return the men of superior
abilities who might solicit its support, but it is certain that men of
this description do not come forward.
* * * * *
ARBITRARY POWER OF MAGISTRATES[164] UNDER THE RULE OF AMERICAN
DEMOCRACY.
For what Reason the arbitrary Power of Magistrates is greater in
absolute Monarchies and in democratic Republics that it is in limited
Monarchies.--Arbitrary Power of the Magistrates in New England.
In two different kinds of government the magistrates exercise a
considerable degree of arbitrary power; namely, under the absolute
government of a single individual, and under that of a democracy.
This identical result proceeds from causes which are nearly analogous.
In despotic states the fortune of no citizen is secure; and public
officers are not more safe than private individuals. The sovereign, who
has under his control the lives, the property, and sometimes the honor
of the men whom he employs, does not scruple to allow them a great
latitude of action, because he is convinced that they will not use it
to his prejudice. In despotic states the sovereign is so attached to the
exercise of his power, that he dislikes the constraint even of his own
regulations; and he is well pleased that his agents should follow a
somewhat fortuitous line of conduct, provided he be certain that their
actions will never counteract his desires.
In democracies, as the majority has every year the right of depriving
the officers whom it has appointed of their power, it has no reason to
fear abuse of their authority. As the people is always able to signify
its wishes to those who conduct the government, it prefers leaving
them to make their own exertions, to prescribing an invariable rule
of conduct which would at once fetter their activity and the popular
authority.
It may even be observed, on attentive consideration, that under the
rule of a democracy the arbitrary power of the magistrate must be still
greater than in despotic states. In the latter, the sovereign has the
power of punishing all the faults with which he becomes acquainted, but
it would be vain for him to hope to become acquainted with all those
which are committed. In the former the sovereign power is not only
supreme, but it is universally present. The American functionaries are,
in point of fact, much more independent in the sphere of action which
the law traces out for them, than any public officer in Europe. Very
frequently the object which they are to accomplish is simply pointed out
to them, and the choice of the means is left to their own discretion.
In New England, for instance, the selectmen of each township are bound
to draw up the list of persons who are to serve on the jury; the only
rule which is laid down to guide them in their choice is that they are
to select citizens possessing the elective franchise and enjoying a fair
reputation.[165] In France the lives and liberties of the subjects
would be thought to be in danger, if a public officer of any kind
was intrusted with so formidable a right. In New England, the same
magistrates are empowered to post the names of habitual drunkards in
public houses, and to prohibit the inhabitants of a town from supplying
them with liquor.[166] A censorial power of this excessive kind would
be revolting to the population of the most absolute monarchies; here,
however, it is submitted to without difficulty.
Nowhere has so much been left by the law to the arbitrary determination
of the magistrates as in democratic republics, because this arbitrary
power is unattended by any alarming consequences. It may even be
asserted that the freedom of the magistrate increases as the elective
franchise is extended, and as the duration of the time of office
is shortened. Hence arises the great difficulty which attends the
conversion of a democratic republic into a monarchy. The magistrate
ceases to be elective, but he retains the rights and the habits of an
elected officer, which lead directly to despotism.
It is only in limited monarchies that the law which prescribes the
sphere in which public officers are to act, superintends all their
measures. The cause of this may be easily detected. In limited
monarchies the power is divided between the king and the people, both
of whom are interested in the stability of the magistrate. The king
does not venture to place the public officers under the control of the
people, lest they should be tempted to betray his interests; on the
other hand, the people fears lest the magistrates should serve to
oppress the liberties of the country, if they were entirely dependent
upon the crown: they cannot therefore be said to depend on either the
one or the other. The same cause which induces the king and the people
to render public officers independent, suggests the necessity of such
securities as may prevent their independence from encroaching upon
the authority of the former and the liberties of the latter. They
consequently agree as to the necessity of restricting the functionary
to a line of conduct laid down beforehand, and they are interested in
confining him by certain regulations which he cannot evade.
[The observations respecting the arbitrary powers of magistrates are
practically among the most erroneous in the work. The author seems to
have confounded the idea of magistrates being _independent_ with their
being arbitrary. Yet he had just before spoken of their dependance on
popular election as a reason why there was no apprehension of the abuse
of their authority. The independence, then, to which he alludes must
be an immunity from responsibility to any other department. But it is
a fundamental principle of our system, that all officers are liable to
criminal prosecution "whenever they act partially or oppressively from
a malicious or corrupt motive." See 15 Wendell's Reports, 278. That
our magistrates are independent when they do not act partially or
oppressively is very true, and, it is to be hoped, is equally true in
every form of government. There would seem, therefore, not to be such
a degree of independence as necessarily to produce arbitrariness. The
author supposes that magistrates are more arbitrary in a despotism
and in a democracy than in a limited monarchy. And yet, the limits of
independence and of responsibility existing in the United States are
borrowed from and identical with those established in England--the most
prominent instance of a limited monarchy. See the authorities referred
to in the case in Wendell's Reports, before quoted. Discretion in
the execution of various ministerial duties, and in the awarding of
punishment by judicial officers, is indispensable in every system of
government, from the utter impossibility of "laying down beforehand a
line of conduct" (as the author expresses it) in such cases. The very
instances of discretionary power to which he refers, and which he
considers _arbitrary_, exist in England. There, the persons from whom
juries are to be formed for the trial of causes, civil and criminal,
are selected by the sheriffs, who are appointed by the crown--a
power, certainly more liable to abuse in their hands, than in those of
selectmen or other town-officers, chosen annually by the people.
The other power referred to, that of posting the names of habitual
drunkards, and forbidding their being supplied with liquor, is but a
reiteration of the principles contained in the English statute of 32
Geo. III., ch. 45, respecting idle and disorderly persons. Indeed it
may be said with great confidence, that there is not an instance of
discretionary power being vested in American magistrates which does not
find its prototype in the English laws. The whole argument of the author
on this point, therefore, would seem to fail.--_American Editor_.]
* * * * *
INSTABILITY OF THE ADMINISTRATION IN THE UNITED STATES.
In America the public Acts of a Community frequently leave fewer Traces
than the Occurrences of a Family.--Newspapers the only historical
Remains.--Instability of the Administration prejudicial to the Art of
Government.
The authority which public men possess in America is so brief, and they
are so soon commingled with the ever-changing population of the country,
that the acts of a community frequently leave fewer traces than the
occurrences of a private family. The public administration is, so to
speak, oral and traditionary. But little is committed to writing, and
that little is wafted away for ever, like the leaves of the sibyl, by
the smallest breeze.
The only historical remains in the United States are the newspapers; but
if a number be wanting, the chain of time is broken, and the present
is severed from the past. I am convinced that in fifty years it will
be more difficult to collect authentic documents concerning the social
condition of the Americans at the present day, than it is to find
remains of the administration of France during the middle ages; and if
the United States were ever invaded by barbarians, it would be necessary
to have recourse to the history of other nations, in order to learn
anything of the people which now inhabits them.
The instability of the administration has penetrated into the habits of
the people: it even appears to suit the general taste, and no one cares
for what occurred before his time. No methodical system is pursued; no
archives are formed; and no documents are brought together when it would
be very easy to do so. Where they exist little store is set upon them;
and I have among my papers several original public documents which were
given to me in answer to some of my inquiries. In America society seems
to live from hand to mouth, like an army in the field. Nevertheless,
the art of administration may undoubtedly be ranked as a science, and
no sciences can be improved, if the discoveries and observations of
successive generations are not connected together in the order in which
they occur. One man, in the short space of his life, remarks a fact;
another conceives an idea; the former invents a means of execution, the
latter reduces a truth to a fixed proposition; and mankind gathers the
fruits of individual experience upon its way, and gradually forms the
sciences. But the persons who conduct the administration in America can
seldom afford any instruction to each other; and when they assume the
direction of society, they simply possess those attainments which are
most widely disseminated in the community, and no experience peculiar
to themselves. Democracy, carried to its farthest limits, is therefore
prejudicial to the art of government; and for this reason it is better
adapted to a people already versed in the conduct of an administration,
than to a nation which is uninitiated in public affairs.
This remark, indeed, is not exclusively applicable to the science of
administration. Although a democratic government is founded upon a very
simple and natural principle, it always presupposes the existence of a
high degree of culture and enlightenment in society.[167] At the first
glance it may be imagined to belong to the earliest ages of the world;
but maturer observation will convince us that it could only come last in
the succession of human history.
[These remarks upon the "instability of administration" in America,
are partly correct, but partly erroneous. It is certainly true that
our public men are not educated to the business of government; even our
diplomatists are selected with very little reference to their experience
in that department. But the universal attention that is paid by the
intelligent, to the measures of government and to the discussions
to which they give rise, is in itself no slight preparation for
the ordinary duties of legislation. And, indeed, this the author
subsequently seems to admit. As to there being "no archives formed"
of public documents, the author is certainly mistaken. The journals
of congress, the journals of state legislatures, the public documents
transmitted to and originating in those bodies, are carefully preserved
and disseminated through the nation: and they furnish in themselves the
materials of a full and accurate history. Our great defect, doubtless,
is in the want of statistical information. Excepting the annual reports
of the state of our commerce, made by the secretary of the treasury,
under law, and excepting the census which is taken every ten years under
the authority of congress, and those taken by the states, we have no
official statistics. It is supposed that the author had this species of
information in his mind when he alluded to the general deficiency of our
archives.--_American Editor_.]
* * * * *
CHARGES LEVIED BY THE STATE UNDER THE RULE OF THE AMERICAN DEMOCRACY.
In all Communities Citizens divisible into three Classes.--Habits of
each of these Classes in the Direction of public Finances.--Why public
Expenditures must tend to increase when the People governs.--What
renders the Extravagance of a Democracy less to be feared in
America.--Public Expenditure under a Democracy.
Before we can affirm whether a democratic form of government is
economical or not, we must establish a suitable standard of comparison.
The question would be one of easy solution if we were to attempt to draw
a parallel between a democratic republic and an absolute monarchy. The
public expenditure would be found to be more considerable under the
former than under the latter; such is the case with all free states
compared to those which are not so. It is certain that despotism ruins
individuals by preventing them from producing wealth, much more than by
depriving them of the wealth they have produced: it dries up the source
of riches, while it usually respects acquired property. Freedom, on the
contrary, engenders far more benefits than it destroys; and the nations
which are favored by free institutions, invariably find that their
resources increase even more rapidly than their taxes.
My present object is to compare free nations to each other; and to point
out the influence of democracy upon the finances of a state.
Communities, as well as organic bodies, are subject to certain fixed
rules in their formation which they cannot evade. They are composed of
certain elements which are common to them at all times and under all
circumstances. The people may always be mentally divided into three
distinct classes. The first of these classes consists of the wealthy;
the second, of those who are in easy circumstances; and the third is
composed of those who have little or no property, and who subsist more
especially by the work which they perform for the two superior orders.
The proportion of the individuals who are included in these three
divisions may vary according to the condition of society; but the
divisions themselves can never be obliterated.
It is evident that each of these classes will exercise an influence,
peculiar to its own propensities, upon the administration of the
finances of the state. If the first of the three exclusively possess
the legislative power, it is probable that it will not be sparing of the
public funds, because the taxes which are levied on a large fortune only
tend to diminish the sum of superfluous enjoyment, and are, in point of
fact, but little felt. If the second class has the power of making the
laws, it will certainly not be lavish of taxes, because nothing is
so onerous as a large impost which is levied upon a small income.
The government of the middle classes appears to me to be the most
economical, though perhaps not the most enlightened, and certainly not
the most generous, of free governments.
But let us now suppose that the legislative authority is vested in
the lowest orders: there are two striking reasons which show that the
tendency of the expenditure will be to increase, not to diminish.
As the great majority of those who create the laws are possessed of no
property upon which taxes can be imposed, all the money which is spent
for the community appears to be spent to their advantage, at no cost of
their own; and those who are possessed of some little property readily
find means of regulating the taxes so that they are burthensome to the
wealthy and profitable to the poor, although the rich are unable to take
the same advantage when they are in possession of the government.
In countries in which the poor[168] should be exclusively invested with
the power of making the laws, no great economy of public expenditure
ought to be expected; that expenditure will always be considerable;
either because the taxes do not weigh upon those who levy them, or
because they are levied in such a manner as not to weigh upon those
classes. In other words, the government of the democracy is the only one
under which the power which lays on taxes escapes the payment of them.
It may be objected (but the argument has no real weight) that the
true interest of the people is indissolubly connected with that of the
wealthier portion of the community, since it cannot but suffer by the
severe measures to which it resorts. But is it not the true interest of
kings to render their subjects happy; and the true interest of nobles
to admit recruits into their order on suitable grounds? If remote
advantages had power to prevail over the passions and the exigencies
of the moment, no such thing as a tyrannical sovereign or an exclusive
aristocracy could ever exist.
Again, it may be objected that the poor are never invested with the sole
power of making the laws; but I reply, that wherever universal suffrage
has been established, the majority of the community unquestionably
exercises the legislative authority, and if it be proved that the poor
always constitute the majority, it may be added, with perfect truth,
that in the countries in which they possess the elective franchise, they
possess the sole power of making laws. But it is certain that in all the
nations of the world the greater number has always consisted of those
persons who hold no property, or of those whose property is insufficient
to exempt them from the necessity of working in order to procure an easy
subsistence. Universal suffrage does therefore in point of fact invest
the poor with the government of society.
The disastrous influence which popular authority may sometimes exercise
upon the finances of a state, was very clearly seen in some of the
democratic republics of antiquity, in which the public treasure was
exhausted in order to relieve indigent citizens, or to supply the
games and theatrical amusements of the populace. It is true that the
representative system was then very imperfectly known, and that, at
the present time, the influence of popular passions is less felt in the
conduct of public affairs; but it may be believed that the delegate
will in the end conform to the principles of his constituents, and favor
their propensities as much as their interests.
The extravagance of democracy is, however, less to be dreaded in
proportion as the people acquires a share of property, because on the
one hand the contributions of the rich are then less needed, and on
the other, it is more difficult to lay on taxes which do not affect the
interests of the lower classes. On this account universal suffrage
would be less dangerous in France than in England, because in the latter
country the property on which taxes may be levied is vested in fewer
hands. America, where the great majority of the citizens is possessed of
some fortune, is in a still more favorable position than France.
There are still farther causes which may increase the sum of public
expenditures in democratic countries. When the aristocracy governs, the
individuals who conduct the affairs of state are exempted, by their own
station in society, from every kind of privation: they are contented
with their position; power and renown are the objects for which they
strive; and, as they are placed far above the obscurer throng of
citizens, they do not always distinctly perceive how the wellbeing of
the mass of the people ought to redound to their own honor. They are
not indeed, callous to the sufferings of the poor, but they cannot feel
those miseries as acutely as if they were themselves partakers of them.
Provided that the people appear to submit to its lot, the rulers are
satisfied and they demand nothing farther from the government. An
aristocracy is more intent upon the means of maintaining its influence,
than upon the means of improving its condition.
When, on the contrary, the people is invested with the supreme
authority, the perpetual sense of their own miseries impels the rulers
of society to seek for perpetual meliorations. A thousand different
objects are subjected to improvement; the most trivial details are
sought out as susceptible of amendment; and those changes which are
accompanied with considerable expense, are more especially advocated,
since the object is to render the condition of the poor more tolerable,
who cannot pay for themselves.
Moreover, all democratic communities are agitated by an ill-defined
excitement, and by a kind of feverish impatience, that engenders a
multitude of innovations, almost all of which are attended with expense.
In monarchies and aristocracies, the natural taste which the rulers have
for power and for renown, is stimulated by the promptings of ambition,
and they are frequently incited by these temptations to very costly
undertakings. In democracies, where the rulers labor under privations,
they can only be courted by such means as improve their wellbeing, and
these improvements cannot take place without a sacrifice of money. When
a people begins to reflect upon its situation, it discovers a multitude
of wants, to which it had not before been subject, and to satisfy these
exigencies, recourse must be had to the coffers of the state. Hence it
arises, that the public charges increase in proportion as civilisation
spreads, and that the imposts are augmented as knowledge pervades the
community.
The last cause which frequently renders a democratic government
dearer than any other is, that a democracy does not always succeed in
moderating its expenditure, because it does not understand the art of
being economical. As the designs which it entertains are frequently
changed, and the agents of those designs are more frequently removed,
its undertakings are often ill-conducted or left unfinished; in the
former case the state spends sums out of all proportion to the end
which it proposes to accomplish; in the second, the expense itself is
unprofitable.
* * * * *
TENDENCIES OF THE AMERICAN DEMOCRACY AS REGARDS THE SALARIES OF PUBLIC
OFFICERS.
In Democracies those who establish high Salaries have no Chance of
profiting by them.--Tendency of the American Democracy to increase
the Salaries of subordinate Officers, and to lower those of the more
important functionaries.--Reason of this.--Comparative Statement of the
Salaries of public Officers in the United States and in France.
There is a powerful reason which usually induces democracies to
economise upon the salaries of public officers. As the number of
citizens who dispense the remuneration is extremely large in democratic
countries, so the number of persons who can hope to be benefited by the
receipt of it is comparatively small. In aristocratic countries, on the
contrary, the individuals who appoint high salaries, have almost always
a vague hope of profiting by them. These appointments may be looked
upon as a capital which they create for their own use, or at least, as a
resource for their children.
It must, however, be allowed that a democratic state is most
parsimonious toward its principal agents. In America the secondary
officers are much better paid, and the dignitaries of the administration
much worse than they are elsewhere.
These opposite effects result from the same cause: the people fixes
the salaries of the public officers in both cases; and the scale of
remuneration is determined by the consideration of its own wants. It is
held to be fair that the servants of the public should be placed in the
same easy circumstances as the public itself;[169] but when the question
turns upon the salaries of the great officers of state, this rule
fails, and chance alone can guide the popular decision. The poor have
no adequate conceptions of the wants which the higher classes of society
may feel. The sum which is scanty to the rich, appears enormous to the
poor man, whose wants do not extend beyond the necessaries of life: and
in his estimation the governor of a state, with his two or three hundred
a year, is a very fortunate and enviable being.[170] If you undertake to
convince him that the representative of a great people ought to be able
to maintain some show of splendor in the eyes of foreign nations, he
will perhaps assent to your meaning; but when he reflects on his own
humble dwelling, and on the hard-earned produce of his wearisome
toil, he remembers all that he could do with a salary which you say is
insufficient, and he is startled or almost frightened at the sight of
such uncommon wealth. Besides, the secondary public officer is almost
on a level with the people, while the others are raised above it. The
former may therefore excite his interest, but the latter begins to
arouse his envy.
This is very clearly seen in the United States, where the salaries seem
to decrease as the authority of those who receive them augments.[171]
Under the rule of an aristocracy it frequently happens, on the contrary,
that while the high officers are receiving munificent salaries, the
inferior ones have not more than enough to procure the necessaries of
life. The reason of this fact is easily discoverable from causes very
analogous to those to which I have just alluded. If a democracy is
unable to conceive the pleasures of the rich, or to see them without
envy, an aristocracy is slow to understand, or, to speak more correctly,
is unacquainted with the privations of the poor. The poor man is not (if
we use the term aright) the fellow of the rich one; but he is the being
of another species. An aristocracy is therefore apt to care but little
for the fate of its subordinate agents: and their salaries are only
raised when they refuse to perform their service for too scanty a
remuneration.
It is the parsimonious conduct of democracy toward its principal
officers, which has countenanced a supposition of far more economical
propensities than any which it really possesses. It is true that it
scarcely allows the means of honorable subsistence to the individuals
who conduct its affairs; but enormous sums are lavished to meet the
exigencies or to facilitate the enjoyments of the people.[172] The
money raised by taxation may be better employed, but it is not saved. In
general, democracy gives largely to the community, and very sparingly
to those who govern it. The reverse is the case in the aristocratic
countries, where the money of the state is expended to the profit of the
persons who are at the head of affairs.
* * * * *
DIFFICULTY OF DISTINGUISHING THE CAUSES WHICH CONTRIBUTE TO THE ECONOMY
OF THE AMERICAN GOVERNMENT.
We are liable to frequent errors in the research of those facts which
exercise a serious influence upon the fate of mankind, since nothing
is more difficult than to appreciate their real value. One people
is naturally inconsistent and enthusiastic; another is sober and
calculating; and these characteristics originate in their physical
constitution, or in remote causes with which we are unacquainted.
There are nations which are fond of parade and the bustle of festivity,
and which do not regret the costly gaieties of an hour. Others, on
the contrary, are attached to more retiring pleasures, and seem almost
ashamed of appearing to be pleased. In some countries the highest value
is set upon the beauty of public edifices; in others the productions of
art are treated with indifference, and everything which is unproductive
is looked down upon with contempt. In some renown, in others money, is
the ruling passion.
Independently of the laws, all these causes concur to exercise a very
powerful influence upon the conduct of the finances of the state. If the
Americans never spend the money of the people in galas, it is not only
because the imposition of taxes is under the control of the people,
but because the people takes no delight in public rejoicings. If they
repudiate all ornament from their architecture, and set no store on any
but the more practical and homely advantages, it is not only because
they live under democratic institutions, but because they are a
commercial nation. The habits of private life are continued in public;
and we ought carefully to distinguish that economy which depends upon
their institutions, from that which is the natural result of their
manners and customs.
* * * * *
WHETHER THE EXPENDITURE OF THE UNITED STATES CAN BE COMPARED TO THAT OF
FRANCE.
Two Points to be established in order to estimate the Extent of
the public Charges, viz.: the national Wealth, and the Rate of
Taxation.--The Wealth and the Charges of France not accurately
known.--Why the Wealth and Charges of the Union cannot be accurately
known.--Researches of the Author with a View to discover the Amount of
Taxation in Pennsylvania.--General Symptoms which may serve to indicate
the Amount of the public Charges in a given Nation.--Result of this
Investigation for the Union.
Many attempts have recently been made in France to compare the public
expenditure of that country with the expenditure of the United States;
all these attempts have, however, been unattended by success; and a few
words will suffice to show that they could not have had a satisfactory
result.
In order to estimate the amount of the public charges of a people, two
preliminaries are indispensable; it is necessary, in the first place, to
know the wealth of that people; and in the second, to learn what portion
of that wealth is devoted to the expenditure of the state. To show the
amount of taxation without showing the resources which are destined
to meet the demand, is to undertake a futile labor; for it is not the
expenditure, but the relation of the expenditure to the revenue, which
it is desirable to know.
The same rate of taxation which may easily be supported by a wealthy
contributor, will reduce a poor one to extreme misery. The wealth of
nations is composed of several distinct elements, of which population
is the first, real property the second, and personal property the third.
The first of these three elements may be discovered without difficulty.
Among civilized nations it is easy to obtain an accurate census of
the inhabitants; but the two others cannot be determined with so much
facility. It is difficult to take an exact account of all the lands in
a country which are under cultivation, with their natural or their
acquired value; and it is still more impossible to estimate the entire
personal property which is at the disposal of the nation, and which
eludes the strictest analysis by the diversity and number of shapes
under which it may occur. And, indeed, we find that the most ancient
civilized nations of Europe, including even those in which the
administration is most central, have not succeeded, as yet, in
determining the exact condition of their wealth.
In America the attempt has never been made; for how would such an
investigation be possible in a country where society has not yet
settled into habits of regularity and tranquillity; where the national
government is not assisted by a multitude of agents whose exertions it
can command, and direct to one sole end; and where statistics are not
studied, because no one is able to collect the necessary documents,
or can find time to peruse them? Thus the primary elements of the
calculations which have been made in France, cannot be obtained in the
Union; the relative wealth of the two countries is unknown: the property
of the former is not accurately determined, and no means exist of
computing that of the latter.
I consent, therefore, for the sake of the discussion, to abandon this
necessary term of the comparison, and I confine myself to a computation
of the actual amount of taxation, without investigating the relation
which subsists between the taxation and the revenue. But the reader will
perceive that my task has not been facilitated by the limits which I
here lay down for my researches.
It cannot be doubted that the central administration of France, assisted
by all the public officers who are at its disposal, might determine with
exactitude the amount of the direct and indirect taxes levied upon
the citizens. But this investigation, which no private individual can
undertake, has not hitherto been completed by the French government, or,
at least, its results have not been made public. We are acquainted
with the sum total of the state; we know the amount of the departmental
expenditure; but the expenses of the communal divisions have not been
computed, and the amount of the public expenses of France is unknown.
If we now turn to America, we shall perceive that the difficulties are
multiplied and enhanced. The Union publishes an exact return of the
amount of its expenditure; the budgets of the four-and-twenty states
furnish similar returns of their revenues; but the expenses incident to
the affairs of the counties and the townships are unknown.[173]
The authority of the federal government cannot oblige the provincial
governments to throw any light upon this point; and even if these
governments were inclined to afford their simultaneous co-operation,
it may be doubted whether they possess the means of procuring a
satisfactory answer. Independently of the natural difficulties of the
task, the political organization of the country would act as a hindrance
to the success of their efforts. The county and town magistrates are not
appointed by the authorities of the state, and they are not subjected
to their control. It is therefore very allowable to suppose, that if
the state was desirous of obtaining the returns which we require,
its designs would be counteracted by the neglect of those subordinate
officers whom it would be obliged to employ.[174] It is, in point of
fact, useless to inquire what the Americans might do to forward this
inquiry, since it is certain that they have hitherto done nothing at
all. There does not exist a single individual at the present day, in
America or in Europe, who can inform us what each citizen of the Union
annually contributes to the public charges of the nation.[175]
If I attempt to compare the French budget with the budget of the Union,
it must be remembered that the latter embraces much fewer objects than
the central government of the former country, and that the expenditure
must consequently be much smaller. If I contrast the budgets of the
departments to those of the states which constitute the Union, it must
be observed, that as the power and control exercised by the states is
much greater than that which is exercised by the departments, their
expenditure is also more considerable. As for the budgets of the
counties, nothing of the kind occurs in the French system of finance;
and it is, again, doubtful whether the corresponding expenses should
be referred to the budget of the state or to those of the municipal
divisions.
Municipal expenses exist in both countries, but they are not always
analogous. In America the townships discharge a variety of offices
which are reserved in France to the departments or the state. It may,
moreover, be asked, what is to be understood by the municipal expenses
of America. The organization of the municipal bodies or townships
differs in the several states: Are we to be guided by what occurs in New
England or in Georgia, in Pennsylvania or the state of Illinois?
A kind of analogy may very readily be perceived between certain budgets
in the two countries: but as the elements of which they are composed
always differ more or less, no fair comparison can be instituted between
them.
Hence we must conclude, that it is no less difficult to compare the
social expenditure, than it is to estimate the relative wealth of France
and of America. I will even add, that it would be dangerous to attempt
this comparison; for when statistics are not founded upon computations
which are strictly accurate, they mislead instead of guiding aright. The
mind is easily imposed upon by the false affectation of exactitude which
prevails even in the mis-statements of the science, and adopts with
confidence the errors which are apparelled in the forms of mathematical
truth.
We abandon, therefore, our numerical investigation, with the hope of
meeting with data of another kind. In the absence of positive documents,
we may form an opinion as to the proportion which the taxation of a
people bears to its real prosperity, by observing whether its external
appearance is flourishing; whether, after having discharged the calls of
the state, the poor man retains the means of subsistence, and the rich
the means of enjoyment; and whether both classes are contented with
their position, seeking however to meliorate it by perpetual exertions,
so that industry is never in want of capital, nor capital unemployed by
industry. The observer who draws his inferences from these signs will,
undoubtedly, be led to the conclusion, that the American of the United
States contributes a much smaller portion of his income to the state
than the citizen of France. Nor, indeed, can the result be otherwise.
A portion of the French debt is the consequence of two successive
invasions; and the Union has no similar calamity to fear. A nation
placed upon the continent of Europe is obliged to maintain a large
standing army; the isolated position of the Union enables it to have
only 6,000 soldiers. The French have a fleet of 300 sail; the Americans
have 52 vessels.[176] How, then, can the inhabitant of the Union be
called upon to contribute as largely as the inhabitant of France?
No parallel can be drawn between the finances of two countries so
differently situated.
It is by examining what actually takes place in the Union, and not
by comparing the Union with France, that we may discover whether the
American government is really economical. On casting my eyes over the
different republics which form the confederation, I perceive that their
governments lack perseverance in their undertakings, and that they
exercise no steady control over the men whom they employ. Whence I
naturally infer, that they must often spend the money of the people
to no purpose, or consume more of it than is really necessary to their
undertakings. Great efforts are made, in accordance with the democratic
origin of society, to satisfy the exigencies of the lower orders, to
open the career of power to their endeavors, and to diffuse knowledge
and comfort among them. The poor are maintained, immense sums are
annually devoted to public instruction, all services whatsoever are
remunerated, and the most subordinate agents are liberally paid. If
this kind of government appears to me to be useful and rational, I am
nevertheless constrained to admit that it is expensive.
Wherever the poor direct public affairs and dispose of the national
resources, it appears certain, that as they profit by the expenditure of
the state, they are apt to augment that expenditure.
I conclude therefore, without having recourse to inaccurate
computations, and without hazarding a comparison which might prove
incorrect, that the democratic government of the Americans is not a
cheap government, as is sometimes asserted; and I have no hesitation in
predicting, that if the people of the United States is ever involved
in serious difficulties, its taxation will speedily be increased to the
rate of that which prevails in the greater part of the aristocracies and
the monarchies of Europe.
* * * * *
CORRUPTION AND VICES OF THE RULERS IN A DEMOCRACY, AND CONSEQUENT
EFFECTS UPON PUBLIC MORALITY.
In Aristocracies Rulers sometimes endeavor to corrupt the People.--In
Democracies Rulers frequently show themselves to be corrupt.--In the
former their Vices are directly prejudicial to the Morality of
the People.--In the latter their indirect Influence is still more
pernicious.
A distinction must be made, when the aristocratic and the democratic
principles mutually inveigh against each other, as tending to facilitate
corruption. In aristocratic governments the individuals who are placed
at the head of affairs are rich men, who are solely desirous of power.
In democracies statesmen are poor, and they have their fortunes to make.
The consequence is, that in aristocratic states the rulers are rarely
accessible to corruption, and have very little craving for money; while
the reverse is the case in democratic nations.
But in aristocracies, as those who are desirous of arriving at the head
of affairs are possessed of considerable wealth, and as the number of
persons by whose assistance they may rise is comparatively small, the
government is, if I may use the expression, put up to a sort of auction.
In democracies, on the contrary, those who are covetous of power are
very seldom wealthy, and the number of citizens who confer that power is
extremely great. Perhaps in democracies the number of men who might be
bought is by no means smaller, but buyers are rarely to be met with;
and, besides, it would be necessary to buy so many persons at once, that
the attempt is rendered nugatory.
Many of the men who have been in the administration in France during
the last forty years, have been accused of making their fortunes at
the expense of the state or of its allies; a reproach which was rarely
addressed to the public characters of the ancient monarchy. But in
France the practice of bribing electors is almost unknown, while it is
notoriously and publicly carried on in England. In the United States
I never heard a man accused of spending his wealth in corrupting
the populace; but I have often heard the probity of public officers
questioned; still more frequently have I heard their success attributed
to low intrigues and immoral practices.
If, then, the men who conduct the government of an aristocracy sometimes
endeavor to corrupt the people, the heads of a democracy are themselves
corrupt. In the former case the morality of the people is directly
assailed; in the latter, an indirect influence is exercised upon the
people, which is still more to be dreaded.
As the rulers of democratic nations are almost always exposed to
the suspicion of dishonorable conduct, they in some measure lend the
authority of the government to the base practices of which they are
accused. They thus afford an example which must prove discouraging
to the struggles of virtuous independence, and must foster the secret
calculations of a vicious ambition. If it be asserted that evil passions
are displayed in all ranks of society; that they ascend the throne by
hereditary right; and that despicable characters are to be met with
at the head of aristocratic nations as well as in the sphere of a
democracy; this objection has but little weight in my estimation. The
corruption of men who have casually risen to power has a coarse and
vulgar infection in it, which renders it contagious to the multitude. On
the contrary, there is a kind of aristocratic refinement, and an air of
grandeur, in the depravity of the great, which frequently prevents it
from spreading abroad.
The people can never penetrate the perplexing labyrinth of court
intrigue, and it will always have difficulty in detecting the turpitude
which lurks under elegant manners, refined tastes, and graceful
language. But to pillage the public purse, and to vend the favors of the
state, are arts which the meanest villain may comprehend, and hope to
practise in his turn.
In reality it is far less prejudicial to be a witness to the immorality
of the great, than to that immorality which leads to greatness. In a
democracy, private citizens see a man of their own rank in life, who
rises from that obscure position, and who becomes possessed of riches
and of power in a few years: the spectacle excites their surprise and
their envy: and they are led to inquire how the person who was yesterday
their equal, is to-day their ruler. To attribute his rise to his talents
or his virtues is unpleasant; for it is tacitly to acknowledge that they
are themselves less virtuous and less talented than he was. They are
therefore led (and not unfrequently their conjecture is a correct one)
to impute his success mainly to some of his defects; and an odious
mixture is thus formed of the ideas of turpitude and power, unworthiness
and success, utility and dishonor.
* * * * *
EFFORTS OF WHICH A DEMOCRACY IS CAPABLE.
The Union has only had one struggle hitherto for its
Existence.--Enthusiasm at the Commencement of the War.--Indifference
toward its Close.--Difficulty of establishing a military Conscription
or impressment of Seamen in America.--Why a democratic People is less
capable of sustained Effort than another.
I here warn the reader that I speak of a government which implicitly
follows the real desires of the people, and not of a government which
simply commands in its name. Nothing is so irresistible as a tyrannical
power commanding in the name of the people, because, while it exercises
that moral influence which belongs to the decisions of the majority, it
acts at the same time with the promptitude and the tenacity of a single
man.
It is difficult to say what degree of exertion a democratic government
may be capable of making, at a crisis in the history of the nation. But
no great democratic republic has hitherto existed in the world. To style
the oligarchy which ruled over France in 1793, by that name, would be to
offer an insult to the republican form of government. The United States
afford the first example of the kind.
The American Union has now subsisted for half a century, in the course
of which time its existence has only once been attacked, namely, during
the war of independence. At the commencement of that long war, various
occurrences took place which betokened an extraordinary zeal for the
service of the country.[177] But as the contest was prolonged, symptoms
of private egotism began to show themselves. No money was poured into
the public treasury; few recruits could be raised to join the army;
the people wished to acquire independence, but was very ill disposed to
undergo the privations by which alone it could be obtained. "Tax laws,"
says Hamilton in the Federalist (No. 12), "have in vain been multiplied;
new methods to enforce the collection have in vain been tried; the
public expectation has been uniformly disappointed; and the treasuries
of the states have remained empty. The popular system of administration
inherent in the nature of popular government, coinciding with the real
scarcity of money incident to a languid and mutilated state of trade,
has hitherto defeated every experiment for extensive collections, and
has at length taught the different legislatures the folly of attempting
them."
The United States have not had any serious war to carry on since
that period. In order, therefore, to appreciate the sacrifices which
democratic nations may impose upon themselves, we must wait until the
American people is obliged to put half its entire income at the disposal
of the government, as was done by the English; or until it sends forth a
twentieth part of its population to the field of battle, as was done by
France.
In America the use of conscription is unknown, and men are induced to
enlist by bounties. The notions and habits of the people of the United
States are so opposed to compulsory enlistments, that I do not
imagine that it can ever be sanctioned by the laws. What is termed the
conscription in France is assuredly the heaviest tax upon the population
of that country; yet how could a great continental war be carried on
without it? The Americans have not adopted the British impressment of
seamen, and they have nothing which corresponds to the French system
of maritime conscription; the navy, as well as the merchant service, is
supplied by voluntary engagement. But it is not easy to conceive how a
people can sustain a great maritime war, without having recourse to one
or the other of these two systems. Indeed, the Union, which has fought
with some honor upon the seas, has never possessed a very numerous
fleet, and the equipment of the small number of American vessels has
always been excessively expensive.
[The remark that "in America the use of conscription is unknown, and men
are induced to enlist by bounties," is not exactly correct. During the
last war with Great Britain, the state of New York, in October, 1814
(see the laws of that session, p. 15), passed an act to raise troops for
the defence of the state, in which the whole body of the militia were
directed to be classed, and each class to furnish one soldier, so as to
make up the whole number of 12,000 directed to be raised. In case of the
refusal of a class to furnish a man, one was to be detached from them by
ballot, and was compelled to procure a substitute or serve personally.
The intervention of peace rendered proceedings under the act
unnecessary, and we have not, therefore, the light of experience to
form an opinion whether such a plan of raising a military force is
practicable. Other states passed similar laws. The system of classing
was borrowed from the practice of the revolution.--_American Editor_.]
I have heard American statesmen confess that the Union will have great
difficulty in maintaining its rank on the seas, without adopting the
system of impressment or of maritime conscription; but the difficulty is
to induce the people, which exercises the supreme authority, to submit
to impressment or any compulsory system.
It is incontestable, that in times of danger a free people displays far
more energy than one which is not so. But I incline to believe, that
this is more especially the case in those free nations in which the
democratic element preponderates. Democracy appears to me to be much
better adapted for the peaceful conduct of society, or for an occasional
effort of remarkable vigor, than for the hardy and prolonged endurance
of the storms which beset the political existence of nations. The reason
is very evident; it is enthusiasm which prompts men to expose themselves
to dangers and privations; but they will not support them long without
reflection. There is more calculation, even in the impulses of bravery,
than is generally attributed to them; and although the first efforts are
suggested by passion, perseverance is maintained by a distinct regard of
the purpose in view. A portion of what we value is exposed, in order to
save the remainder.
But it is this distinct perception of the future, founded upon a sound
judgment and an enlightened experience, which is most frequently wanting
in democracies. The populace is more apt to feel than to reason; and
if its present sufferings are great, it is to be feared that the still
greater sufferings attendant upon defeat will be forgotten.
Another cause tends to render the efforts of a democratic government
less persevering than those of an aristocracy. Not only are the lower
classes less awakened than the higher orders to the good or evil chances
of the future, but they are liable to suffer far more acutely from
present privations. The noble exposes his life, indeed, but the chance
of glory is equal to the chance of harm. If he sacrifices a large
portion of his income to the state, he deprives himself for a time of
the pleasure of affluence; but to the poor man death is embellished by
no pomp or renown; and the imposts which are irksome to the rich are
fatal to him.
This relative impotence of democratic republics is, perhaps, the
greatest obstacle to the foundation of a republic of this kind in
Europe. In order that such a state should subsist in one country of the
Old World, it would be necessary that similar institutions should be
introduced into all the other nations.
I am of opinion that a democratic government tends in the end to
increase the real strength of society; but it can never combine, upon a
single point and at a given time, so much power as an aristocracy or
a monarchy. If a democratic country remained during a whole century
subject to a republican government, it would probably at the end of
that period be more populous and more prosperous than the neighboring
despotic states. But it would have incurred the risk of being conquered
much oftener than they would in that lapse of years.
* * * * *
SELF-CONTROL OF THE AMERICAN DEMOCRACY.
The American People acquiesces slowly, or frequently does not acquiesce
in what is beneficial to its Interests.--The faults of the American
Democracy are for the most part reparable.
The difficulty which a democracy has in conquering the passions, and
in subduing the exigencies of the moment, with a view to the future, is
conspicuous in the most trivial occurrences in the United States.
The people which is surrounded by flatterers, has great difficulty in
surmounting its inclinations; and whenever it is solicited to undergo a
privation or any kind of inconvenience, even to attain an end which is
sanctioned by its own rational conviction, it almost always refuses to
comply at first. The deference of the Americans to the laws has been
very justly applauded; but it must be added, that in America the
legislation is made by the people and for the people. Consequently,
in the United States, the law favors those classes which are most
interested in evading it elsewhere. It may therefore be supposed that an
offensive law, which should not be acknowledged to be one of immediate
utility, would either not be enacted or would not be obeyed.
In America there is no law against fraudulent bankruptcies; not because
they are few, but because there are a great number of bankruptcies. The
dread of being prosecuted as a bankrupt acts with more intensity upon
the mind of the majority of the people, than the fear of being involved
in losses or ruin by the failure of other parties; and a sort of guilty
tolerance is extended by the public conscience, to an offence which
every one condemns in his individual capacity. In the new states of the
southwest, the citizens generally take justice into their own hands,
and murders are of very frequent occurrence. This arises from the rude
manners and the ignorance of the inhabitants of those deserts, who do
not perceive the utility of investing the law with adequate force, and
who prefer duels to prosecutions.
Some one observed to me one day, in Philadelphia, that almost all crimes
in America are caused by the abuse of intoxicating liquors, which
the lower classes can procure in great abundance from their excessive
cheapness.--"How comes it," said I, "that you do not put a duty upon
brandy?"--"Our legislators," rejoined my informant, "have frequently
thought of this expedient; but the task of putting it in operation is a
difficult one: a revolt might be apprehended; and the members who
should vote for a law of this kind would be sure of losing their
seats."--"Whence I am to infer," I replied, "that the drinking
population constitutes the majority in your country and that temperance
is somewhat unpopular."
When these things are pointed out to the American statesmen, they
content themselves with assuring you that time will operate the
necessary change, and that the experience of evil will teach the people
its true interests. This is frequently true; although a democracy is
more liable to error than a monarch or a body of nobles, the chances of
its regaining the right path, when once it has acknowledged its
mistake, are greater also; because it is rarely embarrassed by internal
interests, which conflict with those of the majority, and resist the
authority of reason. But a democracy can only obtain truth as the result
of experience; and many nations may forfeit their existence, while they
are awaiting the consequences of their errors.
The great privilege of the Americans does not simply consist in their
being more enlightened than other nations, but in their being able to
repair the faults they may commit. To which it must be added, that a
democracy cannot derive substantial benefit from past experience, unless
it be arrived at a certain pitch of knowledge and civilisation. There
are tribes and peoples whose education has been so vicious, and whose
character presents so strange a mixture of passion, of ignorance, and of
erroneous notions upon all subjects, that they are unable to discern the
cause of their own wretchedness, and they fall a sacrifice to ills with
which they are unacquainted.
I have crossed vast tracts of country that were formerly inhabited by
powerful Indian nations which are now extinct; I have myself passed some
time in the midst of mutilated tribes, which see the daily decline of
their numerical strength, and of the glory of their independence; and
I have heard these Indians themselves anticipate the impending doom of
their race. Every European can perceive means which would rescue
these unfortunate beings from inevitable destruction. They alone are
insensible to the expedient; they feel the woe which year after year
heaps upon their heads, but they will perish to a man without accepting
the remedy. It would be necessary to employ force to induce them to
submit to the protection and the constraint of civilisation.
The incessant revolutions which have convulsed the South American
provinces for the last quarter of a century have frequently been
adverted to with astonishment, and expectations have been expressed that
those nations would speedily return to their natural state. But can
it be affirmed that the turmoil of revolution is not actually the most
natural state of the South American Spaniards at the present time? In
that country society is plunged into difficulties from which all its
efforts are insufficient to rescue it. The inhabitants of that fair
portion of the western hemisphere seem obstinately bent on pursuing
the work of inward havoc. If they fall into a momentary repose from the
effects of exhaustion, that repose prepares them for a fresh state
of phrensy. When I consider their condition, which alternates between
misery and crime, I should be inclined to believe that despotism itself
would be a benefit to them, if it were possible that the words despotism
and benefit could ever be united in my mind.
* * * * *
CONDUCT OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS BY THE AMERICAN DEMOCRACY.
Direction given to the foreign Policy of the United States by
Washington and Jefferson.--Almost all the defects inherent in
democratic Institutions are brought to light in the Conduct of foreign
Affairs.--Their advantages are less perceptible.
We have seen that the federal constitution intrusts the permanent
direction of the external interests of the nation to the president
and the senate;[178] which tends in some degree to detach the general
foreign policy of the Union from the control of the people. It cannot
therefore be asserted, with truth, that the external affairs of state
are conducted by the democracy. The policy of America owes its rise to
Washington, and after him to Jefferson, who established those principles
which it observes at the present day. Washington said, in the admirable
letter which he addressed to his fellow-citizens, and which may be
looked upon as his political bequest to the country:--
"The great rule of conduct for us in regard to foreign nations is,
extending our commercial relations, to have with them as little
_political_ connexion as possible. So far as we have already formed
engagements, let them lie fulfilled with perfect good faith. Here let us
stop.
"Europe has a set of primary interests, which to us have none, or a very
remote relation. Hence, she must be engaged in frequent controversies,
the causes of which are essentially foreign to our concerns. Hence,
therefore, it must be unwise in us to implicate ourselves, by artificial
ties, in the ordinary vicissitudes of her politics, or the ordinary
combinations and collisions of her friendships or enmities.
"Our detached and distant situation invites and enables us to pursue
a different course. If we remain one people, under an efficient
government, the period is not far off when we may defy material injury
from external annoyance; when we may take such an attitude as will
cause the neutrality we may at any time resolve upon to be scrupulously
respected; when belligerent nations, under the impossibility of making
acquisitions upon us, will not lightly hazard the giving us provocation;
when we may choose peace or war, as our interest, guided by justice,
shall counsel.
"Why forego the advantages of so peculiar a situation? Why quit our own
to stand upon foreign ground? Why, by interweaving our destiny with that
of any part of Europe, entangle our peace and prosperity in the toils of
European ambition, rivalship, interest, humor, or caprice?
"It is our true policy to steer clear of permanent alliances with any
portion of the foreign world; so far, I mean, as we are now at liberty
to do it; for let me not be understood as capable of patronising
infidelity to existing engagements. I hold the maxim no less applicable
to public than to private affairs, that honesty is always the best
policy. I repeat it, therefore, let those engagements be observed in
their genuine sense; but in my opinion it is unnecessary, and would be
unwise, to extend them.
"Taking care always to keep ourselves, by suitable establishments, in
a respectable defensive posture, we may safely trust to temporary
alliances for extraordinary emergencies."
In a previous part of the same letter, Washington makes the following
admirable and just remark: "The nation which indulges toward another an
habitual hatred, or an habitual fondness, is, in some degree, a slave.
It is a slave to its animosity or its affection, either of which is
sufficient to lead it astray from its duty and its interest."
The political conduct of Washington was always guided by these maxims.
He succeeded in maintaining his country in a state of peace, while all
the other nations of the globe were at war; and he laid it down as a
fundamental doctrine, that the true interest of the Americans consisted
in a perfect neutrality with regard to the internal dissensions of the
European powers.
Jefferson went still farther, and introduced a maxim into the policy of
the Union, which affirms, that "the Americans ought never to solicit
any privileges from foreign nations, in order not to be obliged to grant
similar privileges themselves."
These two principles, which were so plain and so just as to be adapted
to the capacity of the populace, have greatly simplified the foreign
policy of the United States. As the Union takes no part in the affairs
of Europe, it has, properly speaking, no foreign interests to discuss,
since it has at present no powerful neighbors on the American continent.
The country is as much removed from the passions of the Old World by
its position, as by the line of policy which it has chosen; and it
is neither called upon to repudiate nor to espouse the conflicting
interests of Europe; while the dissensions of the New World are still
concealed within the bosom of the future.
The Union is free from all pre-existing obligations; and it is
consequently enabled to profit by the experience of the old nations
of Europe, without being obliged, as they are, to make the best of the
past, and to adapt it to their present circumstances; or to accept
that immense inheritance which they derive from their forefathers--an
inheritance of glory mingled with calamities, and of alliances
conflicting with national antipathies. The foreign policy of the United
States is reduced by its very nature to await the chances of the
future history of the nation; and for the present it consists more in
abstaining from interference than in exerting its activity.
It is therefore very difficult to ascertain, at present, what degree
of sagacity the American democracy will display in the conduct of the
foreign policy of the country; and upon this point its adversaries, as
well as its advocates, must suspend their judgment. As for myself, I
have no hesitation in avowing my conviction, that it is most especially
in the conduct of foreign relations, that democratic governments appear
to me to be decidedly inferior to governments carried on upon different
principles. Experience, instruction, and habit, may almost always
succeed in creating a species of practical discretion in democracies,
and that science of the daily occurrences of life which is called good
sense. Good sense may suffice to direct the ordinary course of society;
and among a people whose education has been provided for, the advantages
of democratic liberty in the internal affairs of the country may more
than compensate for the evils inherent in a democratic government. But
such is not always the case in the mutual relations of foreign nations.
Foreign politics demand scarcely any of those qualities which a
democracy possesses; and they require, on the contrary, the perfect use
of almost all those faculties in which it is deficient. Democracy is
favorable to the increase of the internal resources of a state; it tends
to diffuse a moderate independence; it promotes the growth of public
spirit, and fortifies the respect which is entertained for law in all
classes of society: and these are advantages which only exercise an
indirect influence over the relations which one people bears to another.
But a democracy is unable to regulate the details of an important
undertaking, to persevere in a design, and to work out its execution in
the presence of serious obstacles. It cannot combine its measures with
secrecy, and will not await their consequences with patience. These
are qualities which more especially belong to an individual or to an
aristocracy; and they are precisely the means by which an individual
people attains a predominant position.
If, on the contrary, we observe the natural defects of aristocracy,
we shall find that their influence is comparatively innoxious in the
direction of the external affairs of a state. The capital fault of
which aristocratic bodies may be accused, is that they are more apt to
contrive their own advantage than that of the mass of the people. In
foreign politics it is rare for the interest of the aristocracy to be in
any way distinct from that of the people.
The propensity which democracies have to obey the impulse of passion
rather than the suggestions of prudence, and to abandon a mature design
for the gratification of a momentary caprice, was very clearly seen in
America on the breaking out of the French revolution. It was then as
evident to the simplest capacity as it is at the present time, that the
interests of the Americans forbade them to take any part in the contest
which was about to deluge Europe with blood, but which could by no means
injure the welfare of their own country. Nevertheless the sympathies
of the people declared themselves with so much violence in behalf of
France, that nothing but the inflexible character of Washington, and the
immense popularity which he enjoyed, could have prevented the Americans
from declaring war against England. And even then, the exertions, which
the austere reason of that great man made to repress the generous but
imprudent passions of his fellow-citizens, very nearly deprived him of
the sole recompense which he had ever claimed--that of his country's
love. The majority then reprobated the line of policy which he adopted
and which has since been unanimously approved by the nation.[179]
If the constitution and the favor of the public had not intrusted the
direction of the foreign affairs of the country to Washington, it is
certain that the American nation would at that time have taken the very
measures which it now condemns.
Almost all the nations which have exercised a powerful influence upon
the destinies of the world, by conceiving, following up, and executing
vast designs--from the Romans to the English--have been governed by
aristocratic institutions. Nor will this be a subject of wonder when we
recollect that nothing in the world has so absolute a fixity of purpose
as an aristocracy. The mass of the people may be led astray by ignorance
or passion; the mind of a king may be biased, and his perseverance in
his designs may be shaken--beside which a king is not immortal; but an
aristocratic body is too numerous to be led astray by the blandishments
of intrigue, and yet not numerous enough to yield readily to the
intoxicating influence of unreflecting passion: it has the energy of
a firm and enlightened individual, added to the power which it derives
from its perpetuity.
* * * * *
Notes:
[164] I here use the word _magistrates_ in the widest sense in which it
can be taken; I apply it to all the officers to whom the execution of
the laws is intrusted.
[165] See the act 27th February, 1813, General Collection of the Laws of
Massachusetts, vol. ii., p. 331. It should be added that the Jurors are
afterward drawn from these lists by lot.
[166] See the act of 28th February, 1787, General Collection of the Laws
of Massachusetts, vol. i., p. 302.
[167] It is needless to observe, that I speak here of the democratic
form of government as applied to a people, not merely to a tribe.
[168] The word _poor_ is used here, and throughout the remainder of this
chapter, in a relative and not in an absolute sense. Poor men in America
would often appear rich in comparison with the poor of Europe but they
may with propriety be styled poor in comparison with their more affluent
countrymen.
[169] The easy circumstances in which secondary functionaries are
placed in the United States, result also from another cause, which
is independent of the general tendencies of democracy: every kind of
private business is very lucrative, and the state would not be served at
all if it did not pay its servants. The country is in the position of
a commercial undertaking, which is obliged to sustain an expensive
competition, notwithstanding its taste for economy.
[170] The state of Ohio, which contains a million of inhabitants, gives
its governor a salary of only $1,200 (260_l_.) a year.
[171] To render this assertion perfectly evident, it will suffice to
examine the scale of salaries of the agents of the federal government.
I have added the salaries attached to the corresponding officers in
France, to complete the comparison:--
UNITED STATES. FRANCE.
_Treasury Department_. _Ministere des Finances_
Messenger . . . $ 700 150l. Huissier, 3,500 fr. . . 60l.
Clerk with lowest salary Clerk with lowest salary,
. . . 1,000 217 1,000 to 1,300 fr. . 40 to 72
Clerk with highest Clerk with highest salary
salary. . 1,600 347 3,200 to 3,600 fr. . 128 to 144
Chief clerk . 2,000 434 Secretaire-general, 20,000 fr. 800
Secretary of state . 6,000 1,300 The minister, 80,000 fr. . 3,200
The President . . 25,000 5,400 The king, 12,000,000 fr. 480,000
I have perhaps done wrong in selecting France as my standard of
comparison. In France the democratic tendencies of the nation exercise
an ever-increasing influence upon the government, and the chambers show
a disposition to raise the lowest salaries and to lower the principal
ones. Thus the minister of finance, who received 160,000 fr. under
the empire, receives 80,000 fr., in 1835; the directeurs-generaux of
finance, who then received 50,000 fr., now receive only 20,000 fr.
[172] See the American budgets for the cost of indigent citizens and
gratuitous instruction. In 1831, 50,000_l_. were spent in the state of
New York for the maintenance of the poor; and at least 200,000_l_. were
devoted to gratuitous instruction. (Williams's New York Annual Register,
1832, pp. 205, 243.) The state of New York contained only 1,900,000
inhabitants in the year 1830; which is not more than double the amount
of population in the department du Nord in France.
[173] The Americans, as we have seen, have four separate budgets;
the Union, the states, the counties, and the townships, having each
severally their own. During my stay in America I made every endeavor
to discover the amount of the public expenditure in the townships and
counties of the principal states of the Union, and I readily obtained
the budget of the larger townships, but I found it quite impossible to
procure that of the smaller ones. I possess, however, some documents
relating to county expenses, which, although incomplete, are still
curious. I have to thank Mr. Richards, mayor of Philadelphia, for the
budgets of thirteen of the counties of Pennsylvania, viz.: Lebanon,
Centre, Franklin, Fayette, Montgomery, Luzerne, Dauphin, Butler,
Allegany, Columbia, Northampton, Northumberland, and Philadelphia,
for the year 1830. Their population at that time consisted of 495,207
inhabitants. On looking at the map of Pennsylvania, it will be seen
that these thirteen counties are scattered in every direction, and so
generally affected by the causes which usually influence the condition
of a country, that they may easily be supposed to furnish a correct
average of the financial state of the counties of Pennsylvania in
general; and thus, upon reckoning that the expenses of these counties
amounted in the year 1830 to about 72,330_l_., or nearly 3_s_. for each
inhabitant, and calculating that each of them contributed in the same
year about 10_s_. 2_d_. toward the Union, and about 3_s_. to the state
of Pennsylvania, it appears that they each contributed as their share
of all the public expenses (except those of the townships), the sum of
16_s_. 2_d_. This calculation is doubly incomplete, as it applies only
to a single year and to one part of the public charges; but it has at
least the merit of not being conjectural.
[174] Those who have attempted to draw a comparison between the expenses
of France and America, have at once perceived that no such comparison
could be drawn between the total expenditures of the two countries; but
they have endeavored to contrast detached portions of this expenditure.
It may readily be shown that this second system is not at all less
defective than the first.
[175] Even if we knew the exact pecuniary contributions of every French
and American citizen to the coffers of the state, we should only come at
a portion of the truth. Governments not only demand supplies of money,
but they call for personal services, which may be looked upon as
equivalent to a given sum. When a state raises an army, beside the pay
of the troops which is furnished by the entire nation, each soldier must
give up his time, the value of which depends on the use he might make
of it if he were not in the service. The same remark applies to the
militia: the citizen who is in the militia devotes a certain portion
of valuable time to the maintenance of the public peace, and he does in
reality surrender to the state those earnings which he is prevented from
gaining. Many other instances might be cited in addition to these. The
governments of France and America both levy taxes of this kind, which
weigh upon the citizens; but who can estimate with accuracy their
relative amount in the two countries?
This, however, is not the last of the difficulties which prevent us from
comparing the expenditure of the Union with that of France. The French
government contracts certain obligations which do not exist in America,
and _vice versâ_. The French government pays the clergy; in America, the
voluntary principle prevails. In America, there is a legal provision for
the poor; in France they are abandoned to the charity of the public. The
French public officers are paid by a fixed salary: in America they are
allowed certain perquisites. In France, contributions in kind take place
on very few roads; in America upon almost all the thoroughfares: in
the former country the roads are free to all travellers: in the latter
turnpikes abound. All these differences in manner in which contributions
are levied in the two countries, enhance the difficulty of comparing
their expenditure; for there are certain expenses which the citizens
would not be subjected to, or which would at any rate be much less
considerable, if the state did not take upon itself to act in the name
of the public.
[176] See the details in the budget of the French minister of marine,
and for America, the National Calendar of 1833, p. 228.
[177] One of the most singular of these occurrences was the resolution
which the Americans took of temporarily abandoning the use of tea. Those
who know that men usually cling more to their habits than to their life,
will doubtless admire this great and obscure sacrifice which was made by
a whole people.
[178] "The president," says the constitution, art. ii., sect. 2, § 2,
"shall have power, by and with the advice and consent of the senate, to
make treaties, provided two-thirds of the senators present concur."
The reader is reminded that the senators are returned for a term of six
years, and that they are chosen by the legislature of each state.
[179] See the fifth volume of Marshall's Life of Washington. "In a
government constituted like that of the United States," he says, "it is
impossible for the chief magistrate, however firm he may be, to
oppose for any length of time the torrents of popular opinion; and the
prevalent opinion of that day seemed to incline to war. In fact, in
the session of congress held at the time, it was frequently seen that
Washington had lost the majority in the house of representatives." The
violence of the language used against him in public was extreme, and in
a political meeting they did not scruple to compare him indirectly to
the treacherous Arnold. "By the opposition," says Marshall, "the friends
of the administration were declared to be an aristocratic and corrupt
faction, who, from a desire to introduce monarchy, were hostile to
France, and under the influence of Britain; that they were a paper
nobility, whose extreme sensibility at every measure which threatened
the funds, induced a tame submission to injuries and insults, which the
interests and honor of the nation required them to resist."