CHAPTER XIV.

WHAT THE REAL ADVANTAGES ARE WHICH AMERICAN SOCIETY DERIVES FROM THE

GOVERNMENT OF THE DEMOCRACY.

Before I enter upon the subject of the present chapter, I am induced

to remind the reader of what I have more than once adverted to in the

course of this book. The political institutions of the United States

appear to me to be one of the forms of government which a democracy may

adopt but I do not regard the American constitution as the best, or as

the only one which a democratic people may establish. In showing the

advantages which the Americans derive from the government of democracy,

I am therefore very far from meaning, or from believing, that similar

advantages can be obtained only from the same laws.

* * * * *

GENERAL TENDENCY OF THE LAWS UNDER THE RULE OF THE AMERICAN DEMOCRACY,

AND HABITS OF THOSE WHO APPLY THEM.

Defects of a democratic Government easy to be discovered.--Its

advantages only to be discerned by long Observation.--Democracy

in America often inexpert, but the general Tendency of the Laws

advantageous.--In the American Democracy public Officers have no

permanent Interests distinct from those of the Majority.--Result of this

State of Things.

The defects and the weaknesses of a democratic government may very

readily be discovered; they are demonstrated by the most flagrant

instances, while its beneficial influence is less perceptibly exercised.

A single glance suffices to detect its evil consequences, but its good

qualities can only be discerned by long observation. The laws of

the American democracy are frequently defective or incomplete; they

sometimes attack vested rights, or give a sanction to others which are

dangerous to the community; but even if they were good, the frequent

changes which they undergo would be an evil. How comes it, then, that

the American republics prosper, and maintain their position?

In the consideration of laws, a distinction must be carefully observed

between the end at which they aim, and the means by which they are

directed to that end; between their absolute and their relative

excellence. If it be the intention of the legislator to favor the

interests of the minority at the expense of the majority, and if the

measures he takes are so combined as to accomplish the object he has in

view with the least possible expense of time and exertion, the law may

be well drawn up, although its purpose be bad; and the more efficacious

it is, the greater is the mischief which it causes.

Democratic laws generally tend to promote the welfare of the greatest

possible number; for they emanate from a majority of the citizens, who

are subject to error, but who cannot have an interest opposed to their

own advantage. The laws of an aristocracy tend, on the contrary, to

concentrate wealth and power in the hands of the minority, because

an aristocracy, by its very nature, constitutes a minority. It may

therefore be asserted, as a general proposition, that the purpose of

a democracy, in the conduct of its legislation, is useful to a greater

number of citizens than that of an aristocracy. This is, however, the

sum total of its advantages.

Aristocracies are infinitely more expert in the science of legislation

than democracies ever can be. They are possessed of a self-control which

protects them from the errors of a temporary excitement; and they form

lasting designs which they mature with the assistance of favorable

opportunities. Aristocratic government proceeds with the dexterity of

art; it understands how to make the collective force of all its laws

converge at the same time to a given point. Such is not the case with

democracies, whose laws are almost always ineffective, or inopportune.

The means of democracy are therefore more imperfect than those of

aristocracy, and the measures which it unwittingly adopts are frequently

opposed to its own cause; but the object it has in view is more useful.

Let us now imagine a community so organized by nature, or by its

constitution, that it can support the transitory action of bad laws,

and it can await, without destruction, the general tendency of the

legislation: we shall then be able to conceive that a democratic

government, notwithstanding its defects, will be most fitted to conduce

to the prosperity of this community. This is precisely what has occurred

in the United States; and I repeat, what I have before remarked, that

the great advantage of the Americans consists in their being able to

commit faults which they may afterward repair.

An analogous observation may be made respecting officers. It is easy to

perceive that the American democracy frequently errs in the choice of

the individuals to whom it intrusts the power of the administration; but

it is more difficult to say why the state prospers under their rule. In

the first place it is to be remarked, that if in a democratic state

the governors have less honesty and less capacity than elsewhere, the

governed on the other hand are more enlightened and more attentive

to their interests. As the people in democracies is more incessantly

vigilant in its affairs, and more jealous of its rights, it prevents its

representatives from abandoning that general line of conduct which its

own interest prescribes. In the second place, it must be remembered

that if the democratic magistrate is more apt to misuse his power, he

possesses it for a shorter period of time. But there is yet another

reason which is still more general and conclusive. It is no doubt of

importance to the welfare of nations that they should be governed by men

of talents and virtue; but it is perhaps still more important that

the interests of those men should not differ from the interests of the

community at large; for if such were the case, virtues of a high order

might become useless, and talents might be turned to a bad account.

I say that it is important that the interests of the persons in

authority should not conflict with or oppose the interests of the

community at large; but I do not insist upon their having the same

interests as the _whole_ population, because I am not aware that such a

state of things ever existed in any country.

No political form has hitherto been discovered, which is equally

favorable to the prosperity and the development of all the classes into

which society is divided. These classes continue to form, as it were,

a certain number of distinct nations in the same nation; and experience

has shown that it is no less dangerous to place the fate of these

classes exclusively in the hands of any one of them, than it is to make

one people the arbiter of the destiny of another. When the rich alone

govern, the interest of the poor is always endangered; and when the poor

make the laws, that of the rich incurs very serious risks. The advantage

of democracy does not consist, therefore, as has been sometimes

asserted, in favoring the prosperity of all, but simply in contributing

to the well-being of the greatest possible number.

The men who are entrusted with the direction of public affairs in

the United States, are frequently inferior, both in capacity and of

morality, to those whom aristocratic institutions would raise to

power. But their interest is identified and confounded with that of the

majority of their fellow-citizens. They may frequently be faithless, and

frequently mistake; but they will never systematically adopt a line of

conduct opposed to the will of the majority; and it is impossible that

they should give a dangerous or an exclusive tendency to the government.

The mal-administration of a democratic magistrate is a mere isolated

fact, which only occurs during the short period for which he is elected.

Corruption and incapacity do not act as common interests, which may

connect men permanently with one another. A corrupt or an incapable

magistrate will concert his measures with another magistrate, simply

because that individual is as corrupt and as incapable as himself; and

these two men will never unite their endeavors to promote the corruption

and inaptitude of their remote posterity. The ambition and manoeuvres of

the one will serve, on the contrary, to unmask the other. The vices of

a magistrate, in democratic states, are usually peculiar to his own

person.

But under aristocratic governments public men are swayed by the

interests of their order, which, if it is sometimes confounded with the

interests of the majority, is very frequently distinct from them. This

interest is the common and lasting bond which unites them together;

it induces them to coalesce, and to combine their efforts in order to

attain an end which does not always ensure the greatest happiness of

the greatest number; and it serves not only to connect the persons in

authority, but to unite them to a considerable portion of the community,

since a numerous body of citizens belongs to the aristocracy, without

being invested with official functions. The aristocratic magistrate is

therefore constantly supported by a portion of the community, as well as

by the government of which he is a member.

The common purpose which connects the interest of the magistrates

in aristocracies, with that of a portion of their contemporaries,

identifies it with that of future generations; their influence belongs

to the future as much as to the present. The aristocratic magistrate

is urged at the same time toward the same point, by the passions of the

community, by his own, and I may almost add, by those of his posterity.

Is it, then, wonderful that he does not resist such repeated impulses?

And, indeed, aristocracies are often carried away by the spirit of their

order without being corrupted by it; and they unconsciously fashion

society to their own ends, and prepare it for their own descendants.

The English aristocracy is perhaps the most liberal which ever existed,

and no body of men has ever, uninterruptedly, furnished so many

honorable and enlightened individuals to the government of a country. It

cannot, however, escape observation, that in the legislation of England

the good of the poor has been sacrificed to the advantage of the

rich, and the rights of the majority to the privileges of the few. The

consequence is that England, at the present day, combines the extremes

of fortune in the bosom of her society; and her perils and calamities

are almost equal to her power and her renown.

In the United States, where the public officers have no interests to

promote connected with their caste, the general and constant influence

of the government is beneficial, although the individuals who conduct it

are frequently unskilful and sometimes contemptible. There is, indeed,

a secret tendency in democratic institutions to render the exertions

of the citizens subservient to the prosperity of the community,

notwithstanding their private vices and mistakes; while in aristocratic

institutions there is a secret propensity, which, notwithstanding the

talents and the virtues of those who conduct the government, leads them

to contribute to the evils which oppress their fellow creatures. In

aristocratic governments public men may frequently do injuries which

they do not intend; and in democratic states they produce advantages

which they never thought of.

* * * * *

PUBLIC SPIRIT IN THE UNITED STATES.

Patriotism of Instinct.--Patriotism of Reflection.--Their different

Characteristics.--Nations ought to strive to acquire the second when

the first has disappeared.--Efforts of the Americans to acquire

it.--Interest of the Individual intimately connected with that of the

Country.

There is one sort of patriotic attachment which principally arises from

that instinctive, disinterested, and undefinable feeling which connects

the affections of man with his birthplace. This natural fondness is

united to a taste for ancient customs, and to a reverence for ancestral

traditions of the past; those who cherish it love their country as they

love the mansion of their fathers. They enjoy the tranquillity which

it affords them; they cling to the peaceful habits which they have

contracted within its bosom; they are attached to the reminiscences

which it awakens, and they are even pleased by the state of obedience

in which they are placed. This patriotism is sometimes stimulated

by religious enthusiasm, and then it is capable of making the most

prodigious efforts. It is in itself a kind of religion; it does not

reason, but it acts from the impulse of faith and of sentiment. By

some nations the monarch has been regarded as a personification of the

country; and the fervor of patriotism being converted into the fervor of

loyalty, they took a sympathetic pride in his conquests, and gloried in

his power. At one time, under the ancient monarchy, the French felt a

sort of satisfaction in the sense of their dependence upon the arbitrary

pleasure of their king, and they were wont to say with pride: "We are

the subjects of the most powerful king in the world."

But, like all instinctive passions, this kind of patriotism is more apt

to prompt transient exertion than to supply the motives of continuous

endeavor. It may save the state in critical circumstances, but it will

not unfrequently allow the nation to decline in the midst of peace.

While the manners of a people are simple, and its faith unshaken,

while society is steadily based upon traditional institutions, whose

legitimacy has never been contested, this instinctive patriotism is wont

to endure.

But there is another species of attachment to a country which is more

rational than the one we have been describing. It is perhaps less

generous and less ardent, but it is more fruitful and more lasting; it

is coeval with the spread of knowledge, it is nurtured by the laws, it

grows by the exercise of civil rights, and in the end, it is confounded

with the personal interest of the citizen. A man comprehends the

influence which the prosperity of his country has upon his own welfare;

he is aware that the laws authorize him to contribute his assistance

to that prosperity, and he labors to promote it as a portion of his

interest in the first place, and as a portion of his right in the

second.

But epochs sometimes occur, in the course of the existence of a nation,

at which the ancient customs of a people are changed, public morality

destroyed, religious belief disturbed, and the spell of tradition

broken, while the diffusion of knowledge is yet imperfect, and the civil

rights of the community are ill secured, or confined within very narrow

limits. The country then assumes a dim and dubious shape in the eyes of

the citizens; they no longer behold it in the soil which they inhabit,

for that soil is to them a dull inanimate clod; nor in the usages

of their forefathers, which they have been taught to look upon as a

debasing yoke; nor in religion, for of that they doubt; nor in the laws,

which do not originate in their own authority; nor in the legislator,

whom they fear and despise. The country is lost to their senses, they

can neither discover it under its own, nor under borrowed features, and

they intrench themselves within the dull precincts of a narrow egotism.

They are emancipated from prejudice, without having acknowledged

the empire of reason; they are animated neither by the instinctive

patriotism of monarchical subjects, nor by the thinking patriotism of

republican citizens; but they have stopped half-way between the two, in

the midst of confusion and of distress.

In this predicament, to retreat is impossible; for a people cannot

restore the vivacity of its earlier times, any more than a man can

return to the innocence and the bloom of childhood; such things may

be regretted, but they cannot be renewed. The only thing, then, which

remains to be done, is to proceed, and to accelerate the union of

private with public interests, since the period of disinterested

patriotism is gone by for ever.

I am certainly very far from averring, that, in order to obtain this

result, the exercise of political rights should be immediately granted

to all the members of the community. But I maintain that the most

powerful, and perhaps the only means of interesting men in the welfare

of their country, which we still possess, is to make them partakers

in the government. At the present time civic zeal seems to me to be

inseparable from the exercise of political rights; and I hold that the

number of citizens will be found to augment or decrease in Europe in

proportion as those rights are extended.

In the United States, the inhabitants were thrown but as yesterday upon

the soil which they now occupy, and they brought neither customs nor

traditions with them there; they meet each other for the first time

with no previous acquaintance; in short, the instinctive love of their

country can scarcely exist in their minds; but every one takes as

zealous an interest in the affairs of his township, his country, and

of the whole state, as if they were his own, because every one, in his

sphere, takes an active part in the government of society.

The lower orders in the United States are alive to the perception of the

influence exercised by the general prosperity upon their own welfare;

and simple as this observation is, it is one which is but too rarely

made by the people. But in America the people regard this prosperity as

the result of its own exertions; the citizen looks upon the fortune of

the public as his private interest, and he co-operates in its success,

not so much from a sense of pride or of duty, as from what I shall

venture to term cupidity.

It is unnecessary to study the institutions and the history of the

Americans in order to discover the truth of this remark, for their

manners render it sufficiently evident. As the American participates

in all that is done in his country, he thinks himself obliged to defend

whatever may be censured; for it is not only his country which is

attacked upon these occasions, but it is himself. The consequence is

that his national pride resorts to a thousand artifices, and to all the

petty tricks of individual vanity.

Nothing is more embarrassing in the ordinary intercourse of life than

this irritable patriotism of the Americans. A stranger may be well

inclined to praise many of the institutions of their country, but he

begs permission to blame some of the peculiarities which he observes--a

permission which is however inexorably refused. America is therefore a

free country, in which, lest anybody should be hurt by your remarks, you

are not allowed to speak freely of private individuals or of the

state; of the citizens or of the authorities; of public or of private

undertakings; or, in short, of anything at all, except it be of the

climate and the soil; and even then Americans will be found ready to

defend either the one or the other, as if they had been contrived by the

inhabitants of the country.

In our times, option must be made between the patriotism of all and the

government of a few; for the force and activity which the first confers,

are irreconcilable with the guarantees of tranquillity which the second

furnishes.

* * * * *

NOTION OF RIGHTS IN THE UNITED STATES.

No great People without a Notion of Rights.--How the Notion of

Rights can be given to a People.--Respect of Rights in the United

States.--Whence it arises.

After the idea of virtue, I am acquainted with no higher principle

than that of right; or, to speak more accurately, these two ideas are

commingled in one. The idea of right is simply that of virtue introduced

into the political world. It is the idea of right which enabled men to

define anarchy and tyranny; and which taught them to remain independent

without arrogance, as well as to obey without servility. The man who

submits to violence is debased by his compliance; but when he obeys

the mandate of one who possesses that right of authority which he

acknowledges in a fellow creature, he rises in some measure above the

person who delivers the command. There are no great men without virtue,

and there are no great nations--it may also be added that there would be

no society--without the notion of rights; for what is the condition of a

mass of rational and intelligent beings who are only united together by

the bond of force?

I am persuaded that the only means which we possess at the present time

of inculcating the notion of rights, and of rendering it, as it were,

palpable to the senses, is to invest all the members of the community

with the peaceful exercise of certain rights: this is very clearly seen

in children, who are men without the strength and the experience of

manhood. When a child begins to move in the midst of the objects which

surround him, he is instinctively led to turn everything which he can

lay his hands upon to his own purpose; he has no notion of the property

of others; but as he gradually learns the value of things, and begins

to perceive that he may in his turn be deprived of his possessions, he

becomes more circumspect, and he observes those rights in others which

he wishes to have respected in himself. The principle which the child

derives from the possession of his toys, is taught to the man by the

objects which he may call his own. In America those complaints against

property in general, which are so frequent in Europe, are never heard,

because in America there are no paupers; and as every one has property

of his own to defend, every one recognizes the principle upon which he

holds it.

The same thing occurs in the political world. In America the lowest

classes have conceived a very high notion of political rights, because

they exercise those rights; and they refrain from attacking those of

other people, in order to ensure their own from attack. While in Europe

the same classes sometimes recalcitrate even against the supreme power,

the American submits without a murmur to the authority of the pettiest

magistrate.

This truth is exemplified by the most trivial details of national

peculiarities. In France very few pleasures are exclusively reserved

for the higher classes; the poor are admitted wherever the rich are

received; and they consequently behave with propriety, and respect

whatever contributes to the enjoyments in which they themselves

participate. In England, where wealth has a monopoly of amusement as

well as of power, complaints are made that whenever the poor happen to

steal into the enclosures which are reserved for the pleasures of the

rich, they commit acts of wanton mischief: can this be wondered at,

since care has been taken that they should have nothing to lose?

The government of the democracy brings the notion of political rights to

the level of the humblest citizens, just as the dissemination of wealth

brings the notion of property within the reach of all the members of the

community; and I confess that, to my mind, this is one of its greatest

advantages. I do not assert that it is easy to teach men to exercise

political rights; but I maintain that when it is possible, the effects

which result from it are highly important: and I add that if there ever

was a time at which such an attempt ought to be made, that time is our

own. It is clear that the influence of religious belief is shaken, and

that the notion of divine rights is declining; it is evident that

public morality is vitiated, and the notion of moral rights is also

disappearing: these are general symptoms of the substitution of argument

for faith, and of calculation for the impulses of sentiment. If, in the

midst of this general disruption, you do not succeed in connecting

the notion of rights with that of personal interest, which is the

only immutable point in the human heart, what means will you have of

governing the world except by fear? When I am told that since the laws

are weak and the populace is wild, since passions are excited and the

authority of virtue is paralyzed, no measures must be taken to increase

the rights of the democracy; I reply that it is for these very reasons

that some measures of the kind must be taken; and I am persuaded that

governments are still more interested in taking them than society at

large, because governments are liable to be destroyed, and society

cannot perish.

I am not, however, inclined to exaggerate the example which America

furnishes. In those states the people was invested with political rights

at a time when they could scarcely be abused, for the citizens were

few in number and simple in their manners. As they have increased, the

Americans have not augmented the power of the democracy, but they have,

if I may use the expression, extended its dominions.

It cannot be doubted that the moment at which political rights are

granted to a people that had before been without them, is a very

critical, though it be a very necessary one. A child may kill before he

is aware of the value of life; and he may deprive another person of his

property before he is aware that his own may be taken away from him. The

lower orders, when first they are invested with political rights, stand

in relation to those rights, in the same position as a child does to the

whole of nature, and the celebrated adage may then be applied to them,

_Homo, puer robustus_. This truth may even be perceived in America. The

states in which the citizens have enjoyed their rights longest are those

in which they make the best use of them.

It cannot be repeated too often that nothing is more fertile in

prodigies than the art of being free; but there is nothing more arduous

than the apprenticeship of liberty. Such is not the case with despotic

institutions; despotism often promises to make amends for a thousand

previous ills; it supports the right, it protects the oppressed, and it

maintains public order. The nation is lulled by the temporary prosperity

which accrues to it, until it is roused to a sense of its own misery.

Liberty, on the contrary, is generally established in the midst of

agitation, it is perfected by civil discord, and its benefits cannot be

appreciated until it is already old.

* * * * *

RESPECT FOR THE LAW IN THE UNITED STATES.

Respect of the Americans for the Law.--Parental Affection which they

entertain for it.--Personal Interest of every one to increase the

Authority of the Law.

It is not always feasible to consult the whole people, either directly

or indirectly, in the formation of the law; but it cannot be denied that

when such a measure is possible, the authority of the law is very much

augmented. This popular origin, which impairs the excellence and the

wisdom of legislation, contributes prodigiously to increase its power.

There is an amazing strength in the expression of the determination of a

whole people; and when it declares itself, the imagination of those who

are most inclined to contest it, is overawed by its authority. The truth

of this fact is very well known by parties; and they consequently strive

to make out a majority whenever they can. If they have not the greater

number of voters on their side, they assert that the true majority

abstained from voting; and if they are foiled even there, they have

recourse to the body of those persons who had no votes to give.

In the United States, except slaves, servants, and paupers in the

receipt of relief from the townships, there is no class of persons

who do not exercise the elective franchise, and who do not contribute

indirectly to make the laws. Those who design to attack the laws must

consequently either modify the opinion of the nation or trample upon its

decision.

A second reason, which is still more weighty, may be farther adduced:

in the United States every one is personally interested in enforcing

the obedience of the whole community to the law; for as the minority

may shortly rally the majority to its principles, it is interested in

professing that respect for the decrees of the legislator, which it may

soon have occasion to claim for its own. However irksome an enactment

may be, the citizen of the United States complies with it, not only

because it is the work of the majority, but because it originates in his

own authority; and he regards it as a contract to which he is himself a

party.

In the United States, then, that numerous and turbulent multitude does

not exist, which always looks upon the law as its natural enemy, and

accordingly surveys it with fear and with distrust. It is impossible,

on the other hand, not to perceive that all classes display the utmost

reliance upon the legislation of their country, and that they are

attached to it by a kind of parental affection.

I am wrong, however, in saying all classes; for as in America the

European scale of authority is inverted, the wealthy are there placed in

a position analogous to that of the poor in the Old World, and it is

the opulent classes which frequently look upon the law with suspicion.

I have already observed that the advantage of democracy is not, as has

been sometimes asserted, that it protects the interests of the whole

community, but simply that it protects those of the majority. In the

United States, where the poor rule, the rich have always some reason to

dread the abuses of their power. This natural anxiety of the rich may

produce a sullen dissatisfaction, but society is not disturbed by it;

for the same reason which induces the rich to withhold their confidence

in the legislative authority, makes them obey its mandates; their

wealth, which prevents them from making the law, prevents them from

withstanding it. Among civilized nations revolts are rarely excited

except by such persons as have nothing to lose by them; and if the laws

of a democracy are not always worthy of respect, at least they always

obtain it; for those who usually infringe the laws have no excuse for

not complying with the enactments they have themselves made, and by

which they are themselves benefited, while the citizens whose interests

might be promoted by the infraction of them, are induced, by their

character and their station, to submit to the decisions of the

legislature, whatever they may be. Beside which, the people in America

obeys the law not only because it emanates from the popular authority,

but because that authority may modify it in any points which may prove

vexatory; a law is observed because it is a self-imposed evil in the

first place, and an evil of transient duration in the second.

* * * * *

ACTIVITY WHICH PERVADES ALL THE BRANCHES OF THE BODY POLITIC IN THE

UNITED STATES; INFLUENCE WHICH IT EXERCISES UPON SOCIETY.

More difficult to conceive the political Activity which pervades the

United States than the Freedom and Equality which reign here.--The great

activity which perpetually agitates the legislative Bodies is only an

Episode to the general Activity.--Difficult for an American to confine

himself to his own Business.--Political Agitation extends to all social

intercourse.--Commercial Activity of the Americans partly attributable

to this cause.--Indirect Advantages which Society derives from a

democratic Government.

On passing from a country in which free institutions are established to

one where they do not exist, the traveller is struck by the change; in

the former all is bustle and activity, in the latter everything is calm

and motionless. In the one, melioration and progress are the general

topics of inquiry; in the other, it seems as if the community only

aspired to repose in the enjoyment of the advantages which it has

acquired. Nevertheless, the country which exerts itself so strenuously

to promote its welfare is generally more wealthy and more prosperous

than that which appears to be so contented with its lot; and when we

compare them together, we can scarcely conceive how so many new wants

are daily felt in the former, while so few seem to occur in the latter.

If this remark is applicable to those free countries in which

monarchical and aristocratic institutions subsist, it is still more

striking with regard to democratic republics. In these states it is not

only a portion of the people which is busied with the melioration of its

social condition, but the whole community is engaged in the task; and it

is not the exigencies and the convenience of a single class for which a

provision is to be made, but the exigencies and the convenience of all

ranks of life.

It is not impossible to conceive the surpassing liberty which the

Americans enjoy; some idea may likewise be formed of the extreme

equality which subsists among them; but the political activity which

pervades the United States must be seen in order to be understood. No

sooner do you set foot upon the American soil than you are stunned by a

kind of tumult; a confused clamor is heard on every side; and a thousand

simultaneous voices demand the immediate satisfaction of their social

wants. Everything is in motion around you; here, the people of one

quarter of a town are met to decide upon the building of a church;

there, the election of a representative is going on; a little further,

the delegates of a district are posting to the town in order to consult

upon some local improvements; or, in another place, the laborers of a

village quit their ploughs to deliberate upon the project of a road or

a public school. Meetings are called for the sole purpose of declaring

their disapprobation of the line of conduct pursued by the government;

while in other assemblies the citizens salute the authorities of the

day as the fathers of their country. Societies are formed, which regard

drunkenness as the principal cause of the evils under which the state

labors, and which solemnly bind themselves to give a constant example of

temperance.[180]

The great political agitation of the American legislative bodies, which

is the only kind of excitement that attracts the attention of foreign

countries, is a mere episode or a sort of continuation of that universal

movement which originates in the lowest classes of the people and

extends successively to all the ranks of society. It is impossible to

spend more efforts in the pursuit of enjoyment.

The cares of political life engross a most prominent place in the

occupation of a citizen in the United States; and almost the only

pleasure of which an American has any idea, is to take a part in the

government, and to discuss the part he has taken. This feeling pervades

the most trifling habits of life; even the women frequently attend

public meetings, and listen to political harangues as a recreation

after their household labors. Debating clubs are to a certain extent a

substitute for theatrical entertainments: an American cannot converse,

but he can discuss; and when he attempts to talk he falls into a

dissertation. He speaks to you as if he were addressing a meeting; and

if he should warm in the course of the discussion, he will infallibly

say "gentlemen," to the person with whom he is conversing.

In some countries the inhabitants display a certain repugnance to avail

themselves of the political privileges with which the law invests them;

it would seem that they set too high a value upon their time to spend

it on the interests of the community; and they prefer to withdraw within

the exact limits of a wholesome egotism, marked out by four sunk fences

and a quickset hedge. But if an American were condemned to confine

his activity to his own affairs, he would be robbed of one half of

his existence; he would feel an immense void in the life which he is

accustomed to lead, and his wretchedness would be unbearable.[181] I am

persuaded that if ever a despotic government is established in America,

it will find it more difficult to surmount the habits which free

institutions have engendered, than to conquer the attachment of the

citizens to freedom.

This ceaseless agitation which democratic government has introduced into

the political world, influences all social intercourse. I am not sure

that upon the whole this is not the greatest advantage of democracy; and

I am much less inclined to applaud it for what it does, than for what it

causes to be done.

It is incontestable that the people frequently conducts public business

very ill; but it is impossible that the lower orders should take a part

in public business without extending the circle of their ideas, and

without quitting the ordinary routine of their mental acquirements. The

humblest individual who is called upon to co-operate in the government

of society, acquires a certain degree of self-respect; and as he

possesses authority, he can command the services of minds much more

enlightened than his own. He is canvassed by a multitude of applicants,

who seek to deceive him in a thousand different ways, but who instruct

him by their deceit. He takes a part in political undertakings which

did not originate in his own conception, but which give him a taste for

undertakings of the kind. New meliorations are daily pointed out in the

property which he holds in common with others, and this gives him the

desire of improving that property which is more peculiarly his own. He

is perhaps neither happier nor better than those who came before him,

but he is better informed and more active. I have no doubt that the

democratic institutions of the United States, joined to the physical

constitution of the country, are the cause (not the direct, as is so

often asserted, but the indirect cause) of the prodigious commercial

activity of the inhabitants. It is not engendered by the laws, but

the people learns how to promote it by the experience derived from

legislation.

When the opponents of democracy assert that a single individual performs

the duties which he undertakes much better than the government of

the community, it appears to me that they are perfectly right. The

government of an individual, supposing an equality of instruction on

either side, is more consistent, more persevering, and more accurate

than that of a multitude, and it is much better qualified judiciously

to discriminate the characters of the men it employs. If any deny what I

advance, they have certainly never seen a democratic government, or have

formed their opinion upon very partial evidence. It is true that

even when local circumstances and the disposition of the people allow

democratic institutions to subsist, they never display a regular

and methodical system of government. Democratic liberty is far from

accomplishing all the projects it undertakes, with the skill of an

adroit despotism. It frequently abandons them before they have borne

their fruits, or risks them when the consequences may prove dangerous;

but in the end it produces more than any absolute government, and if it

do fewer things well, it does a great number of things. Under its

sway, the transactions of the public administration are not nearly so

important as what is done by private exertion. Democracy does not confer

the most skilful kind of government upon the people, but it produces

that which the most skilful governments are frequently unable to awaken,

namely, an all-pervading and restless activity, a superabundant force,

and an energy which is inseparable from it, and which may, under

favorable circumstances, beget the most amazing benefits. These are the

true advantages of democracy.

In the present age, when the destinies of Christendom seem to be in

suspense, some hasten to assail democracy as its foe while it is yet in

its early growth; and others are ready with their vows of adoration for

this new duty which is springing forth from chaos: but both parties are

very imperfectly acquainted with the object of their hatred or of their

desires; they strike in the dark, and distribute their blows by mere

chance.

We must first understand what the purport of society and the aim of

government are held to be. If it be your intention to confer a certain

elevation upon the human mind, and to teach it to regard the things of

this world with generous feelings; to inspire men with a scorn of mere

temporal advantage; to give birth to living convictions, and to keep

alive the spirit of honorable devotedness; if you hold it to be a good

thing to refine the habits, to embellish the manners, to cultivate the

arts of a nation, and to promote the love of poetry, of beauty, and of

renown; if you would constitute a people not unfitted to act with power

upon all other nations; nor unprepared for those high enterprises,

which, whatever be the result of its efforts, will leave a name for

ever famous in time--if you believe such to be the principal object of

society, you must avoid the government of democracy, which would be a

very uncertain guide to the end you have in view.

But if you hold it to be expedient to divert the moral and intellectual

activity of man to the production of comfort, and to the acquirement of

the necessaries of life; if a clear understanding be more profitable

to men than genius; if your object be not to stimulate the virtues of

heroism, but to create habits of peace; if you had rather behold vices

than crimes, and are content to meet with fewer noble deeds, provided

offences be diminished in the same proportion; if, instead of living

in the midst of a brilliant state of society, you are contented to

have prosperity around you; if, in short, you are of opinion that the

principal object of a government is not to confer the greatest possible

share of power and of glory upon the body of the nation, but to ensure

the greatest degree of enjoyment, and the least degree of misery, to

each of the individuals who compose it--if such be your desires, you can

have no surer means of satisfying them than by equalizing the condition

of men, and establishing democratic institutions.

But if the time be past at which such a choice was possible, and if

some superhuman power impel us toward one or the other of these two

governments without consulting our wishes, let us at least endeavor to

make the best of that which is allotted to us: and let us so inquire

into its good and its evil propensities as to be able to foster the

former, and repress the latter to the utmost.

* * * * *

Notes:

[180] At the time of my stay in the United States the temperance

societies already consisted of more than 270,000 members; and their

effect had been to diminish the consumption of fermented liquors by

500,000 gallons per annum in the state of Pennsylvania alone.

[181] The same remark was made at Rome under the first Caesars.

Montesquieu somewhere alludes to the excessive despondency of certain

Roman citizens who, after the excitement of political life, were all at

once flung back into the stagnation of private life.

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