SECTION III.

APATHY IN CITIZENSHIP.

In England the idea of an American citizen is of one who is always

talking politics, canvassing, bustling about to make proselytes abroad,

buried in newspapers at home, and hurrying to vote on election days.

There is another side to the object. A learned professor of a western

college told me abundance of English news, but declared himself ignorant

of everything that had passed in the home portion of the political

world. He never took any interest in politics. What would be the use of

his disturbing himself? How far does one man's vote go? He does more

good by showing himself above such affairs.

It was communicated to me that there are more modes of political action

than one: and that, though this professor does not vote, he uses his

utmost influence with the students of his college, in favour of his own

political opinions; and with entire success. If this be true, the

gentleman falls short of his duty in one respect, and exceeds it in

another.

A clergyman in the north was anxious to assure me that elections are

merely personal matters, and do not affect the happiness of the people.

It matters not to him, for instance, who is in office, and what party in

politics is uppermost: life goes on the same to him. This gentleman had

probably never heard of the old lady who said that she did not care

what revolutions happened, as long as she had her roast chicken, and her

little game at cards. But that old lady did not live in a republic, or

perhaps even she might have perceived that there would have been no

security for roast chickens and cards, if all were to neglect political

action but those who want political power and profit. In a democracy,

every man is supposed to be his own security for life and property: and,

if a man devolves his political charge upon others, he must lay his

accounts for not being so well taken care of as he might be. So much for

the selfish aspect of the case;--the view which might have been

presented, with illustrations, to the old lady, if she had happened to

live in a republic.

The clergyman ought to see further. He ought to see, in virtue of his

office, how public morals must suffer under the neglect of public duty

by respectable men. If such men were to perform the duties of citizens

as conscientiously as they do those of husbands, fathers, and pastors,

and leave it to the knaves to neglect the duties of citizenship, the

republic might go on as well as a republic with knaves in it can go on.

But if the case is reversed,--if the knaves are eager to use their

political rights for selfish purposes, and the conscientious in other

respects are remiss in the duties of citizenship, the pastors may almost

as well leave off preaching. All good pastoral influence will be borne

down by the spread of corruption. The clergy may preach themselves

hoarse to little purpose, if they live, and encourage others to live, in

the avowed neglect of the first duty of any one relation; and the

exercise of the suffrage is the first duty of republican citizenship.

A naval officer, a man of an otherwise sound head and heart, told me,

very coolly, that he had never voted more than twice in his life. His

defence, in answer to my remonstrance, was, that he had served his

country in other ways. In as far as this might be meant to convey that

he could not vote at New York when in India, the excuse must be admitted

as valid: but, if it was meant to apply to elections going on before his

eyes, it was much the same as if he had said, "there is no occasion for

me to be a good father, because I have been a good son."

A member of Congress gave me instances of what would have been the

modifications of certain public affairs, but for the apathy of the

minority about the use of their suffrage. If citizens regulate their

exertions by the probabilities of immediate success, instead of by their

faith in their own convictions, it is indeed no wonder if the minority

leave everything to their adversaries; but this is not the way for men

to show themselves worthy of the possession of political rights. This is

not the way that society has advanced. This is not the way that security

for life and property has been obtained for those idle citizens who are

now leaving that security to the mercy of those whom they believe to be

the enemies of society.

A public man told me that it would be a great point gained, if every

citizen could be induced to vote, at least once a year. So far is it

from being true that all Americans are the bustling politicians the

English have been apt to suppose. If such political bustle should be

absurd, the actual apathy is something worse. If it were only borne in

mind that rulers derive their just powers from the consent of the

governed, surely all conscientious men would see the guilt of any man

acquiescing in the rule of governors whom he disapproves, by not having

recorded his dissent. Or, if he should be in the majority, the case is

no better. He has omitted to bear his testimony to what he esteems the

true principles of government. He has not appointed his rulers; and, in

as far as he accepts their protection, he takes without having given, he

reaps without having sown; he deprives his just rulers of a portion of

the authority which is their due--of a portion of the consent of the

governed.

There is another cause for the reluctance to vote which is complained of

by the best friends of the people; but it is almost too humbling and

painful to be discussed. Some are afraid to vote!

This happens not in the country, nor among the strength of the

population in the towns: but among the feeble aristocracy. There is not,

in the United States, as with us, a system of intimidation exercised by

the rich over the poor. In the country, there are no landlords and

tenants at will. In the towns, the tradesmen do not stand in need of the

patronage of the rich. Though they vote by ballot, and any man who

chooses it may vote secretly, (and many do upon occasion,) there is

rarely any need of such protection. But there is no reason why the

gentry, who may be afraid of hurting one another's feelings, should not

use their power of secret voting, rather than neglect the duty of giving

their suffrage. If the educated and principled men of the community, as

they are esteemed, fall back into idleness and silence, when the time

comes for a struggle for principles, and there is a danger of

disappointing expectations, and hurting feelings, their country has

little to thank them for. They are the men from whom the open discharge

of duty is looked for; they are the men who should show that political

obligation is above private regards. If they have not the virtue to do

this, and take the consequences, let them avail themselves of the

secrecy of the ballot-box, which in England is desired for the

protection of those whom bad arrangements have made dependent for bread

on the rich and powerful. At all events, let them vote, or be ashamed to

accept the privileges of citizenship without having discharged the

duties.

The fear of opinion sometimes takes the form of an almost insane dread

of responsibility. There are occasions when public men, unable to judge

for themselves of particular classes of circumstances, are obliged to

ask advice of their friends and supporters. Happy he who obtains a full

and true answer from any one! The chances against this are in proportion

to the importance of the case. I knew of one such instance, the result

of which more than one is, I trust, now grieving over in his inmost

heart. An eminent statesman was hesitating whether to offer himself as a

candidate for a very high office. He requested the opinion and advice of

a number of gentlemen in public life, his supporters. All were of the

same opinion; that he should not stand. No one of them chose to take the

responsibility of telling him so. Some of them wrote ambiguous answers,

hoping that he would infer that they thought ill of his chance. Others

rather encouraged the enterprise. The illustrative details which might

be given,--showing the general uniformity, with particular diversity, of

the conduct of the advisers,--would be amusing if they were not too sad.

Suffice it that no one, as far as I could learn, could get over his fear

of responsibility so as to be faithful. They allowed their idol to make

a fool of himself. If he should henceforth be sunk in political

scepticism, perhaps these gentlemen may find that in shunning one kind

of responsibility, they have incurred another, far heavier.

It is felt, and understood, in the United States, that their near future

in politics is indiscernible. Odd, unexpected circumstances,

determining the present, are perpetually turning up. Almost every man

has his convictions as to what the state of affairs will be, in the

gross, a century hence. Scarcely any man will venture a conjecture as to

what will have happened next spring. This is the very condition, if the

people could but see it, for the exercise of faith in principles. With a

dark and shifting near future, and a bright and fixed ultimate destiny,

what is the true, the only wisdom? Not to pry into the fogs and thickets

round about, or to stand still for fear of what may next occur in the

path; but to look from Eden gate behind to heaven gate before, and press

on to the certain future. In his political as in his moral life, man

should, in the depth of his ignorance and the fallibility of his

judgment, throw himself, in a full sense of security, upon principles;

and then he is safe from being depressed by opposition, or scared by

uncertainty, or depraved by responsibility.

Society in America, Volume 1 (of 2) · 第 3 / 10 章