And, in the first place, let us have a clear conception of the end in

view. That end is, I submit, exactly the same to-day which Aristotle had

in view more than twenty centuries ago. It is, not to solve all

political problems, but to put political problems as they arise in the

hands of those whom he termed the "best,"--but whom we know as the most

intelligent, observant and expert,--to be, through their agency, in the

way of ultimate solution. If, adopting every ill-considered and

half-fledged measure of so-called reform which might be the fancy of the

day, we incorporated them in our fundamental law, but one thing could

result therefrom,--ultimate confusion. The Constitution is neither a

legislative crazy-quilt nor a receptacle of fads. To make it such is in

every respect the reverse of scientific. The work immediately in hand,

therefore, is to devise such changes in the fundamental law as will tend

most effectually to bring about the solution of issues as they may

arise, by the most expert, observant and reliable. This accomplished, if

its accomplishment were only practicable, all possible would have been

done; and the necessary and inevitable readjustment of things would, in

politics as in medicine and in science, be left to solve itself as

occasion arose. Provision cannot be made against every contingency.

This premised, the Constitution of the United States is an instrument

through which powers are delegated by several local communities to a

central government. The instrument, it was originally held, should be

strictly construed and the powers delegated limited; and in this

respect, with certain alterations made obviously necessary to meet

changed conditions, I would return to the fundamental idea of

the framers.

In saying this I feel confidence also that here in South Carolina at

least I shall meet with an earnest response. The time is not yet remote

when local self-government worked salvation for South Carolina, as for

her sister States of the Confederacy. You here will never forget what

immediately followed the close of our Civil War. As an historic fact,

the Constitution was then suspended. It was suspended by act of an

irresponsible Congress, exercising revolutionary but unlimited powers

over a large section of the common country. You then had an

illustration, not soon to be forgotten, of concentration of legislative

power. An episode at once painful and discreditable, it is not necessary

here to refer to it in detail. Appeal, however, was made to the

principle of local self-government,--it was, so to speak, a recurrence

to the theory of State Sovereignty. The appeal struck a responsive,

because traditional, chord; and it was through a recurrence to State

Sovereignty as the agency of local self-government that loyalty and

contentment were restored, and, I may add, that I am here to-day.

Ceasing to be a Military Department, South Carolina once more became a

State. Not improbably the demand will in a not remote future be heard

that State lines and local autonomy be practically obliterated. In that

event, I feel a confident assurance that, recurring in memory to the

evil days which followed 1865, the spirit of enlightened conservatism

will assert itself here and in the sister States of what was once the

Confederacy; and again it will prevail. In the future, as in the past,

you in South Carolina at least will cling to what in 1876 proved the ark

of your social and political salvation.

Taking another step in the discussion of changes, the Constitution is

founded on that well-known distribution and allocation of powers first

theoretically suggested by Montesquieu. There is a division, accompanied

by a mutual limitation of authority, through the Judiciary, the

Executive, and the Legislative. As respects this allocation, how would I

modify that instrument? I freely say that the tendency of my thought,

based on observation, is to conservatism. I have never yet in a single

instance found that when the people of this or any other country

accustomed to parliamentary government desired a thing, they failed to

obtain it within a reasonable limit of time. Hasty changes are wisely

deprecated; but I think I speak within limitation when I say that

neither in the history of Great Britain,--the mother of Parliaments--nor

in the history of the United States, has any modification which the

people, on sober second thought, have considered to be for the best,

long been deferred. Action, revolutionary in character, has not, as a

rule, been needful, or, when taken, proved salutary. This is a record

and result that no careful student of our history will, I take it, deny.

Such being the case, so far as our Judiciary is concerned, I do not

hesitate to say I would adhere to older, and, as I think, better

principles, or revert to them where they have been experimentally

abandoned. It took the Anglo-Saxon race two centuries of incessant

conflict to wrest from a despotic executive, practically an autocracy,

judicial independence. That was effected through what is known as a

tenure during good behavior, as opposed to a tenure at the will of the

monarch. This, then, for two centuries, was accepted as a fundamental

principle of constitutional government. Of late, a new theory has been

propounded, and by those chafing at all restraint--constitutionally

lawless in disposition--it is said the Recall should also be applied to

the Judiciary. Having, therefore, wrested the independence of the

Judiciary from the hand of the Autocrat, we now propose to place it, in

all trustfulness, in the hands of the Democrat. To me the proposition

does not commend itself. It is founded on no correct principle, for the

irresponsible democratic majority is even more liable to ill-considered

and vacillating action than is the responsible autocrat. In that matter

I would not trust myself; why, then, should I trust the composite

Democrat? In the case of the Judiciary, therefore, I would so far as the

fundamental law is concerned abide by the older and better considered

principles of the framers.

Next, the Executive. Again, we hear the demand of Democracy,--the

Recall! Once more I revert to the record. This Republic has now been in

working operation, and, taken altogether, most successful operation,

for a century and a quarter. During that century and a quarter we have

had, we will say, some five and twenty different chief magistrates.

There is an ancient and somewhat vulgar adage to the effect that the

proof of a certain dietary article is in its eating. Apply that homely

adage to the matter under consideration. What is the lesson taught? It

is simply this,--during a whole century and a quarter of existence there

has not been one single chief executive of the United States to whom the

arbitrary Recall could have been applied with what would now be agreed

upon as a fortunate result. In the Andrew Johnson impeachment case was

it not better that things were as they were? On the other hand, every

one of the seven independent, self-respecting Senators who then by a

display of high moral courage saved the country from serious prejudice

would have been recalled out-of-hand had the Recall now demanded been in

existence. Its working would have received prompt exemplification; as it

was, the recall was effected in time, and after due deliberation. The

delay occasioned no public detriment. In this life, experience is

undeniably worth something; and the experience here referred to is

fairly entitled to consideration. No political system possible to devise

is wholly above criticism,--not open to exceptional contingencies or to

dangers possible to conjure up. Such have from time to time arisen in

the past; in the future such will inevitably arise. This consideration

must, however, be balanced against a general average of successful

working; and I confidently submit that, weighing thus the proved

advantage of the system we have against the possibilities of danger

which hereafter may occur, but which never yet have occurred, the scale

on which are the considerations in favor of change kicks the beam.

In view, however, of the growth of the country, the vastly increased

complexity of interests involved, the intricacy and the cost of the

election processes to which recourse is necessarily had, I would

substitute for the present brief tenure of the presidential office--a

tenure well enough perhaps in the comparatively simple days which

preceded our Civil War--a tenure sufficiently long to enable the

occupant of the presidential chair to have a policy and to accomplish at

least something towards its adoption. As the case stands to-day, a

President for the first time elected has during his term of four years,

one year, and one year only, in which really to apply himself to the

accomplishment of results. The first year of his term is necessarily

devoted to the work of acquiring a familiarity with the machinery of the

government, and the shaping of a policy. The second year may be devoted

to a more or less strenuous effort at the adoption of the policy thus

formulated. As experience shows, the action of the third and fourth

years is gravely affected--if not altogether perverted from the work in

hand--by what are known as the political exigencies incident to a

succession. Manifestly, this calls for correction. The remedy, however,

to my mind, is obvious and suggests itself. As the presidency is the

one office under our Constitution national in character, and in no way

locally representative, I would extend the term to seven years, and

render the occupant of the office thereafter ineligible for reëlection.

Seven years is, I am aware, under our political system, an unusual term;

and here my ears will, I know, be assailed by the great "mandate"

cackle. The count of noses being complete, the mind of the composite

Democrat is held to be made up. It only remains to formulate the

consequent decree; and, with least possible delay, put it in way of

practical enforcement. Again, I, as a publicist, demur. It is the old

issue, that between instant action and action on second thought,

presented once more. Briefly, the experience of sixty years strongly

inclines me to a preference of matured and considerate action over that

immediate action which notoriously is in nine cases out of ten as

ill-advised as it is precipitate. Only in the field of politics is the

expediency of the latter assumed as of course; yet, as in science and

literature and art so in politics, final, because satisfactory, results

are at best but slowly thrashed out. As respects wisdom, the modern

statute book does not loom, monumental. Its contemplation would indeed

perhaps even lead to a surmise that reasonable delay in formulating his

"mandate" might, in the case of the composite Democrat as in that of the

individual Autocrat, prove a not altogether unmixed, and so in the end

an intolerable, evil.

Thus while a change of the Executive and Legislative branches of the

government might not be always simultaneously effected, by selecting

seven years as the presidential term the election would be brought

about, as frequently as might be, by itself, uncomplicated by local

issues connected with the fortunes or political fate of individual

candidates for office, whether State, Congressional, or Senatorial; and

during the seven years of tenure, four, at least, it might reasonably be

anticipated, would be devoted to the promotion of a definite policy, in

place of one year in a term of four, as now. If also ineligible for

reelection, there is at least a fair presumption that the occupant of

the position might from start to finish apply himself to its duties and

obligations, without being distracted therefrom by ulterior personal

ends as constantly as humanly held in view.

Having thus disposed of the Judiciary and the Executive, we come to the

Legislative. And here I submit is the weak point in our American

system,--manifestly the weak point, and to those who, like myself, have

had occasion to know, undeniably so. I am here as a publicist; not as a

writer of memoirs: so, on this head, I do not now propose to dilate or

bear witness. I will only briefly say that having at one period, and for

more than the lifetime of a generation, been in charge of large

corporate and financial interests, I have had much occasion to deal with

legislative bodies, National, State and Municipal. That page of my

experiences is the one I care least to recall, and would most gladly

forget. I am not going to specify, or give names of either localities or

persons; but, knowing what I know, it is useless to approach me on this

topic with the usual good-natured and optimistic, if somewhat unctuous

and conventional, commonplaces on general uprightness and the tendency

to improved conditions and a higher standard. I know better! I have seen

legislators bought like bullocks--they selling themselves. I have

watched them cover their tracks with a cunning more than vulpine. I have

myself been black-mailed and sandbagged, while whole legislative bodies

watched the process, fully cognizant at every step of what was going on.

This, I am glad to say, was years ago. The legislative conditions were

then bad, scandalously bad; nor have I any reason to believe in a

regeneration since. The stream will never rise higher than its source;

but it generally indicates the level thereof. In this case, I can only

hope that in my experience it failed so to do. Running at a low level,

the waters of that stream were deplorably dirty.

That the legislative branch of our government has fallen so markedly in

public estimation is not, I think, open to denial. To my mind, under the

conditions I have referred to, such could not fail to be the case. It

has, consequently, lost public confidence. Hence this popular demand for

immediate legislation by the People,--this twentieth-century appeal to

the Agora and Forum methods which antedate the era of Christ. It is true

the world outgrew them two thousand years ago, and they were discarded;

but, living in a progressive and not a reactionary period, all that, we

are assured, is changed! The heart is no longer on the right-hand side

of the body. To secure desired results it is only necessary to start

quite fresh, as a mere preliminary discarding all lessons of experience.

Such reasoning does not commend itself to my judgment. On the contrary,

the failure of the American legislative to command an increasing public

confidence, while both natural and obvious, is, if my observation guides

me to conclusions in any degree correct, traceable to two reasons. So

far as government is concerned, the law-making branch is assumed to be

made up of the wisest and the most expert. Meanwhile, it is as a matter

of fact chosen by the process I have not over-respectfully referred to

as the counting of noses; and, moreover, by an unwritten law more

binding than any in the Statute Book, that counting of noses is with us

localized. In other words, when it comes to the choice of our

law-makers, reducing provincialism to a system we make the local

numerical majority supreme, and any one is considered competent to

legislate. He can do that, even if by common knowledge he is incompetent

or untrustworthy in every other capacity. Localization thus becomes the

stronghold of mediocrity, the sure avenue to office of the second-and

third-rate man,--he who wishes always to enjoy his share of a little

brief authority, to have, he also, a taste of public life. In this

respect our American system is, I submit, manifestly and incomparably

inferior to the system of parliamentary election existing in Great

Britain, itself open to grave criticism. In Great Britain the public man

seeks the constituency wherever he can find it; or the constituency

seeks its representative wherever it recognizes him. The present Prime

Minister of Great Britain, for instance, represents a small Scotch

constituency in which he never resided, but by which he was elected more

than twenty years ago, and through which he has since consecutively

remained in public life. On the other hand, look at the waste and

extravagance of the system now and traditionally in use with us. To get

into public life a man must not only be in sympathy with the majority of

the citizens of the locality in which he lives, but he must continue to

be in sympathy with that majority; or, at any election, like Mr. Cannon

in the election just held, where for any passing cause a majority of his

neighbors in the locality in which he lives may fail to support him, he

must go into retirement. I cannot here enlarge on this topic, vital as I

see it; I have neither space nor time, and must, therefore, needs

content myself with the "hints" of Paracelsus. I will merely say that as

an outcome this localized majority system practically disfranchises the

more intelligent and the more disinterested, the more individual and

independent of every constituency. It reduces their influence, and

negatives their action. It operates in like fashion everywhere. My

field of observation has been at home, here in America; but it has been

the same in France. For instance, while preparing this address I came

across the following in that most respectable sheet, the London

_Athenaum_. A very competent Frenchman was there criticising a recent

book entitled "Idealism in France." Reference was by him made to what,

in France, is known as the "_scrutin d'arrondissement,"_ or, in other

words, the district representative system. The critic declares that this

system has there "created a party machine which has brought the country

under the sway of a sort of Radical-Socialist Tammany, and bound

together the voter and the deputy by a tie of mutual corruption, the

candidate promising Government favors to the elector in return for his

vote, and the elector supporting the candidate who promises most. Hence

a policy in which ideas and ideals are forgotten for personal and local

interests, as each candidate strives to outbid his rivals in the bribes

that he offers to his constituents. Hence, finally, a general lowering

in the tone of French home politics, every question being made

subservient by the deputies to that of their reëlection."

I would respectfully inquire if the above does not apply word for word

to the condition of affairs with which we are familiar in America.

But let me here again cite a concrete case, still fresh in memory;

nothing in abstract discussion tells so much. Take the late Carl

Schurz. If there was one man in our public life since 1865 who showed a

genius for the parliamentary career, and who in six short years in the

United States Senate--a single term--displayed there constructive

legislating qualities of the highest order, it was Carl Schurz. Yet at

the end of that single senatorial term, for local and temporary reasons

he failed to obtain the support of a majority, or the support of

anything approaching a majority, of those composing the constituency

upon which he depended. Consequently he was retired from that

parliamentary position necessary for the accomplishment, through him, of

best public results. Yet at that very time there was no man in the

United States who commanded so large and so personal a constituency as

Carl Schurz; for he represented the entire Germanic element in the

United States. Distributed as that element was, however, with its vote

localized under our law, unwritten as well as statutory, there was no

possibility of any constituency so concentrating itself that Carl Schurz

could be kept in the position where he could continue to render services

of the greatest possible value to the country. I, therefore, confidently

here submit a doubt whether human ingenuity could devise any system

calculated to lead to a greater waste of parliamentary ability, or more

effectually keep from the front and position of influence that

legislative superiority which was the arm of Aristotle to secure.

"Cant-patriotism," as your Francis Lieber termed it; and, on this

score, he waxed eloquent. "Do we not live in a world of cant," he wrote

from Columbia here to a friend at the North seventy-five years ago,

"that cant-patriotism which plumes itself in selecting men from within

the State confines only. The truer a nation is, the more essentially it

is elevated, the more it disregards petty considerations, and takes the

true and the good from whatever quarter it may come. Look at history and

you find the proof. Look around you, where you are, and you find it

now." And, were Lieber living to-day, he would find a striking

exemplification of the consequences of a total and systematic disregard

of this elementary proposition in studying the United States Senate from

and through its reporters' gallery. The decline in the standards of that

body, whether of aspect, intelligence, education or character, under the

operation of the local primary has been not less pronounced than

startling. The outcome and ripe result of "cant-patriotism," it affords

to the curious observer an impressive object-lesson,--provincialism

reduced to a political system; what a witty and incisive French writer

has recently termed the "Cult of Incompetence." Speaking of conditions

prevailing not here but in France, this observer says:--"Democracy in

its modern form chooses its' delegates in its own image.... What ought

the character of the legislator to be? The very opposite, it seems to

me, of the democratic legislator, for he ought to be well-informed and

entirely devoid of prejudice." Taken as a whole, and a few striking

individual exceptions apart, are those composing the Senate of the

United States conspicuous in these respects? They certainly do not so

impress the casual observer. That, as a body, they increasingly fail to

command confidence and attention is matter of common remark. Nor is the

reason far to seek. It would be the same as respects literature, science

and art, were their representatives chosen and results reached through a

count of noses localized, with selection severely confined to

home talent.

I am well aware of the criticism which will at once be passed on what I

now advance. Local representation through choice by numerical majorities

within given confines, geographically and mathematically fixed, is a

system so rooted and intrenched in the convictions and traditions of the

American community that even to question its wisdom evinces a lack of

political common-sense. It in fact resembles nothing so much as the

attempt to whistle down a strongly prevailing October wind from the

West. The attempt so to do is not practical politics! In reply, however,

I would suggest that such a criticism is wholly irrelevant. The

publicist has nothing to do with practical politics. It is as if it were

objected to a physician who prescribed sanitation against epidemics that

the community in question was by custom and tradition wedded to filth

and surface-drainage, and could not possibly be induced to abandon them

in favor of any new-fangled theories of soap-and-water cleanliness. So

why waste time in prescribing such? Better be common-sensed and

practical, taking things as they are. In the case suggested, and

confronted with such criticism, the medical adviser simply shrugs his

shoulders, and is silent; the alternative he knows is inescapable. After

a sufficiency of sound scourgings the objecting community will probably

know better, and may listen to reason; in a way, conforming thereto. So,

also, the body politic. If Ephraim is indeed thus joined to idols, the

publicist simply shrugs his shoulders, and passes on; possibly, after

Ephraim has been sufficiently scourged, he may in that indefinite future

popularly known as "one of these days" be more clear sighted and wiser.

None the less, so far as our national parliamentary system is concerned,

could I have my way in a revision of the Constitution, I would increase

the senatorial term to ten years, and I would, were such a thing within

the range of possibility, break down the system of the necessary

senatorial selection by a State of an inhabitant of the State. If I

could, I would introduce the British system. For example, though I never

voted for Mr. Bryan and have not been in general sympathy with Mr.

Roosevelt, yet few things would give me greater political satisfaction

than to see Mr. Bryan, we will say, elected a Senator from Arizona or

Oregon, Mr. Roosevelt elected from Illinois or Pennsylvania, President

Taft from Utah or Vermont. They apparently best represent existing

feelings and the ideals prevailing in those communities; why, then,

should they not voice those feelings and ideals in our highest

parliamentary chamber?

"'Tis Sixty Years Since" Address of Charles Francis Adams; Founders' Day, January 16, 1913 · 第 3 / 4 段