apportionment made. Still there is great room to suppose that the rule
agreed upon would, upon experiment, be found to bear harder upon
some States than upon others. Those which were sufferers by it would
naturally seek for a mitigation of the burden. The others would as
naturally be disinclined to a revision, which was likely to end in an
increase of their own incumbrances. Their refusal would be too plausible
a pretext to the complaining States to withhold their contributions, not
to be embraced with avidity; and the non-compliance of these States
with their engagements would be a ground of bitter discussion and
altercation. If even the rule adopted should in practice justify the
equality of its principle, still delinquencies in payments on the part
of some of the States would result from a diversity of other causes--the
real deficiency of resources; the mismanagement of their finances;
accidental disorders in the management of the government; and, in
addition to the rest, the reluctance with which men commonly part with
money for purposes that have outlived the exigencies which produced
them, and interfere with the supply of immediate wants. Delinquencies,
from whatever causes, would be productive of complaints, recriminations,
and quarrels. There is, perhaps, nothing more likely to disturb the
tranquillity of nations than their being bound to mutual contributions
for any common object that does not yield an equal and coincident
benefit. For it is an observation, as true as it is trite, that there is
nothing men differ so readily about as the payment of money.
Laws in violation of private contracts, as they amount to aggressions
on the rights of those States whose citizens are injured by them, may
be considered as another probable source of hostility. We are not
authorized to expect that a more liberal or more equitable spirit would
preside over the legislations of the individual States hereafter, if
unrestrained by any additional checks, than we have heretofore seen in
too many instances disgracing their several codes. We have observed the
disposition to retaliation excited in Connecticut in consequence of
the enormities perpetrated by the Legislature of Rhode Island; and we
reasonably infer that, in similar cases, under other circumstances, a
war, not of PARCHMENT, but of the sword, would chastise such atrocious
breaches of moral obligation and social justice.
The probability of incompatible alliances between the different States
or confederacies and different foreign nations, and the effects of this
situation upon the peace of the whole, have been sufficiently unfolded
in some preceding papers. From the view they have exhibited of this part
of the subject, this conclusion is to be drawn, that America, if
not connected at all, or only by the feeble tie of a simple league,
offensive and defensive, would, by the operation of such jarring
alliances, be gradually entangled in all the pernicious labyrinths of
European politics and wars; and by the destructive contentions of the
parts into which she was divided, would be likely to become a prey to
the artifices and machinations of powers equally the enemies of them
all. Divide et impera(1) must be the motto of every nation that either
hates or fears us.(2)
PUBLIUS
1. Divide and command.
2. In order that the whole subject of these papers may as soon as
possible be laid before the public, it is proposed to publish them four
times a week--on Tuesday in the New York Packet and on Thursday in the
Daily Advertiser.
FEDERALIST No. 8
The Consequences of Hostilities Between the States
From the New York Packet. Tuesday, November 20, 1787.
HAMILTON
To the People of the State of New York:
ASSUMING it therefore as an established truth that the several States,
in case of disunion, or such combinations of them as might happen to be
formed out of the wreck of the general Confederacy, would be subject to
those vicissitudes of peace and war, of friendship and enmity, with
each other, which have fallen to the lot of all neighboring nations not
united under one government, let us enter into a concise detail of some
of the consequences that would attend such a situation.
War between the States, in the first period of their separate existence,
would be accompanied with much greater distresses than it commonly is
in those countries where regular military establishments have long
obtained. The disciplined armies always kept on foot on the continent
of Europe, though they bear a malignant aspect to liberty and economy,
have, notwithstanding, been productive of the signal advantage of
rendering sudden conquests impracticable, and of preventing that
rapid desolation which used to mark the progress of war prior to their
introduction. The art of fortification has contributed to the same ends.
The nations of Europe are encircled with chains of fortified places,
which mutually obstruct invasion. Campaigns are wasted in reducing two
or three frontier garrisons, to gain admittance into an enemy's country.
Similar impediments occur at every step, to exhaust the strength and
delay the progress of an invader. Formerly, an invading army would
penetrate into the heart of a neighboring country almost as soon as
intelligence of its approach could be received; but now a comparatively
small force of disciplined troops, acting on the defensive, with the aid
of posts, is able to impede, and finally to frustrate, the enterprises
of one much more considerable. The history of war, in that quarter
of the globe, is no longer a history of nations subdued and empires
overturned, but of towns taken and retaken; of battles that decide
nothing; of retreats more beneficial than victories; of much effort and
little acquisition.
In this country the scene would be altogether reversed. The jealousy
of military establishments would postpone them as long as possible.
The want of fortifications, leaving the frontiers of one state open
to another, would facilitate inroads. The populous States would, with
little difficulty, overrun their less populous neighbors. Conquests
would be as easy to be made as difficult to be retained. War, therefore,
would be desultory and predatory. PLUNDER and devastation ever march in
the train of irregulars. The calamities of individuals would make the
principal figure in the events which would characterize our military
exploits.
This picture is not too highly wrought; though, I confess, it would not
long remain a just one. Safety from external danger is the most powerful
director of national conduct. Even the ardent love of liberty will,
after a time, give way to its dictates. The violent destruction of life
and property incident to war, the continual effort and alarm attendant
on a state of continual danger, will compel nations the most attached to
liberty to resort for repose and security to institutions which have a
tendency to destroy their civil and political rights. To be more safe,
they at length become willing to run the risk of being less free.
The institutions chiefly alluded to are STANDING ARMIES and the
correspondent appendages of military establishments. Standing armies,
it is said, are not provided against in the new Constitution; and it
is therefore inferred that they may exist under it.(1) Their existence,
however, from the very terms of the proposition, is, at most,
problematical and uncertain. But standing armies, it may be replied,
must inevitably result from a dissolution of the Confederacy. Frequent
war and constant apprehension, which require a state of as constant
preparation, will infallibly produce them. The weaker States or
confederacies would first have recourse to them, to put themselves upon
an equality with their more potent neighbors. They would endeavor to
supply the inferiority of population and resources by a more regular
and effective system of defense, by disciplined troops, and by
fortifications. They would, at the same time, be necessitated to
strengthen the executive arm of government, in doing which their
constitutions would acquire a progressive direction toward monarchy. It
is of the nature of war to increase the executive at the expense of the
legislative authority.
The expedients which have been mentioned would soon give the States or
confederacies that made use of them a superiority over their neighbors.
Small states, or states of less natural strength, under vigorous
governments, and with the assistance of disciplined armies, have often
triumphed over large states, or states of greater natural strength,
which have been destitute of these advantages. Neither the pride nor the
safety of the more important States or confederacies would permit them
long to submit to this mortifying and adventitious superiority. They
would quickly resort to means similar to those by which it had been
effected, to reinstate themselves in their lost pre-eminence. Thus, we
should, in a little time, see established in every part of this country
the same engines of despotism which have been the scourge of the Old
World. This, at least, would be the natural course of things; and our
reasonings will be the more likely to be just, in proportion as they are
accommodated to this standard.
These are not vague inferences drawn from supposed or speculative
defects in a Constitution, the whole power of which is lodged in the
hands of a people, or their representatives and delegates, but they
are solid conclusions, drawn from the natural and necessary progress of
human affairs.
It may, perhaps, be asked, by way of objection to this, why did
not standing armies spring up out of the contentions which so often
distracted the ancient republics of Greece? Different answers, equally
satisfactory, may be given to this question. The industrious habits of
the people of the present day, absorbed in the pursuits of gain,
and devoted to the improvements of agriculture and commerce, are
incompatible with the condition of a nation of soldiers, which was the
true condition of the people of those republics. The means of revenue,
which have been so greatly multiplied by the increase of gold and silver
and of the arts of industry, and the science of finance, which is the
offspring of modern times, concurring with the habits of nations, have
produced an entire revolution in the system of war, and have rendered
disciplined armies, distinct from the body of the citizens, the
inseparable companions of frequent hostility.
There is a wide difference, also, between military establishments in a
country seldom exposed by its situation to internal invasions, and in
one which is often subject to them, and always apprehensive of them.
The rulers of the former can have no good pretext, if they are even so
inclined, to keep on foot armies so numerous as must of necessity be
maintained in the latter. These armies being, in the first case, rarely,
if at all, called into activity for interior defense, the people are in
no danger of being broken to military subordination. The laws are not
accustomed to relaxations, in favor of military exigencies; the civil
state remains in full vigor, neither corrupted, nor confounded with the
principles or propensities of the other state. The smallness of the army
renders the natural strength of the community an overmatch for it;
and the citizens, not habituated to look up to the military power for
protection, or to submit to its oppressions, neither love nor fear the
soldiery; they view them with a spirit of jealous acquiescence in a
necessary evil, and stand ready to resist a power which they suppose may
be exerted to the prejudice of their rights.
The army under such circumstances may usefully aid the magistrate to
suppress a small faction, or an occasional mob, or insurrection; but it
will be unable to enforce encroachments against the united efforts of
the great body of the people.
In a country in the predicament last described, the contrary of all this
happens. The perpetual menacings of danger oblige the government to
be always prepared to repel it; its armies must be numerous enough for
instant defense. The continual necessity for their services enhances the
importance of the soldier, and proportionably degrades the condition of
the citizen. The military state becomes elevated above the civil. The
inhabitants of territories, often the theatre of war, are unavoidably
subjected to frequent infringements on their rights, which serve to
weaken their sense of those rights; and by degrees the people are
brought to consider the soldiery not only as their protectors, but
as their superiors. The transition from this disposition to that of
considering them masters, is neither remote nor difficult; but it is
very difficult to prevail upon a people under such impressions, to make
a bold or effectual resistance to usurpations supported by the military
power.
The kingdom of Great Britain falls within the first description. An
insular situation, and a powerful marine, guarding it in a great measure
against the possibility of foreign invasion, supersede the necessity
of a numerous army within the kingdom. A sufficient force to make head
against a sudden descent, till the militia could have time to rally and
embody, is all that has been deemed requisite. No motive of national
policy has demanded, nor would public opinion have tolerated, a larger
number of troops upon its domestic establishment. There has been, for a
long time past, little room for the operation of the other causes, which
have been enumerated as the consequences of internal war. This peculiar
felicity of situation has, in a great degree, contributed to preserve
the liberty which that country to this day enjoys, in spite of the
prevalent venality and corruption. If, on the contrary, Britain had been
situated on the continent, and had been compelled, as she would have
been, by that situation, to make her military establishments at home
coextensive with those of the other great powers of Europe, she, like
them, would in all probability be, at this day, a victim to the absolute
power of a single man. It is possible, though not easy, that the people
of that island may be enslaved from other causes; but it cannot be by
the prowess of an army so inconsiderable as that which has been usually
kept up within the kingdom.
If we are wise enough to preserve the Union we may for ages enjoy an
advantage similar to that of an insulated situation. Europe is at a
great distance from us. Her colonies in our vicinity will be likely to
continue too much disproportioned in strength to be able to give us any
dangerous annoyance. Extensive military establishments cannot, in this
position, be necessary to our security. But if we should be disunited,
and the integral parts should either remain separated, or, which is most
probable, should be thrown together into two or three confederacies,
we should be, in a short course of time, in the predicament of the
continental powers of Europe--our liberties would be a prey to the means
of defending ourselves against the ambition and jealousy of each other.
This is an idea not superficial or futile, but solid and weighty. It
deserves the most serious and mature consideration of every prudent and
honest man of whatever party. If such men will make a firm and
solemn pause, and meditate dispassionately on the importance of this
interesting idea; if they will contemplate it in all its attitudes, and
trace it to all its consequences, they will not hesitate to part with
trivial objections to a Constitution, the rejection of which would in
all probability put a final period to the Union. The airy phantoms that
flit before the distempered imaginations of some of its adversaries
would quickly give place to the more substantial forms of dangers, real,
certain, and formidable.
PUBLIUS
1. This objection will be fully examined in its proper place, and it
will be shown that the only natural precaution which could have been
taken on this subject has been taken; and a much better one than is to
be found in any constitution that has been heretofore framed in America,
most of which contain no guard at all on this subject.
FEDERALIST No. 9
The Union as a Safeguard Against Domestic Faction and Insurrection
For the Independent Journal. Wednesday, November 21, 1787
HAMILTON
To the People of the State of New York:
A FIRM Union will be of the utmost moment to the peace and liberty of
the States, as a barrier against domestic faction and insurrection. It
is impossible to read the history of the petty republics of Greece
and Italy without feeling sensations of horror and disgust at the
distractions with which they were continually agitated, and at the
rapid succession of revolutions by which they were kept in a state of
perpetual vibration between the extremes of tyranny and anarchy. If they
exhibit occasional calms, these only serve as short-lived contrast to
the furious storms that are to succeed. If now and then intervals of
felicity open to view, we behold them with a mixture of regret, arising
from the reflection that the pleasing scenes before us are soon to be
overwhelmed by the tempestuous waves of sedition and party rage. If
momentary rays of glory break forth from the gloom, while they dazzle us
with a transient and fleeting brilliancy, they at the same time admonish
us to lament that the vices of government should pervert the direction
and tarnish the lustre of those bright talents and exalted endowments
for which the favored soils that produced them have been so justly
celebrated.
From the disorders that disfigure the annals of those republics the
advocates of despotism have drawn arguments, not only against the forms
of republican government, but against the very principles of civil
liberty. They have decried all free government as inconsistent with the
order of society, and have indulged themselves in malicious exultation
over its friends and partisans. Happily for mankind, stupendous fabrics
reared on the basis of liberty, which have flourished for ages, have, in
a few glorious instances, refuted their gloomy sophisms. And, I trust,
America will be the broad and solid foundation of other edifices, not
less magnificent, which will be equally permanent monuments of their
errors.
But it is not to be denied that the portraits they have sketched of
republican government were too just copies of the originals from which
they were taken. If it had been found impracticable to have devised
models of a more perfect structure, the enlightened friends to liberty
would have been obliged to abandon the cause of that species of
government as indefensible. The science of politics, however, like most
other sciences, has received great improvement. The efficacy of various
principles is now well understood, which were either not known at all,
or imperfectly known to the ancients. The regular distribution of power
into distinct departments; the introduction of legislative balances
and checks; the institution of courts composed of judges holding their
offices during good behavior; the representation of the people in the
legislature by deputies of their own election: these are wholly new
discoveries, or have made their principal progress towards perfection
in modern times. They are means, and powerful means, by which
the excellences of republican government may be retained and its
imperfections lessened or avoided. To this catalogue of circumstances
that tend to the amelioration of popular systems of civil government, I
shall venture, however novel it may appear to some, to add one more, on
a principle which has been made the foundation of an objection to the
new Constitution; I mean the ENLARGEMENT of the ORBIT within which such
systems are to revolve, either in respect to the dimensions of a single
State or to the consolidation of several smaller States into one great
Confederacy. The latter is that which immediately concerns the object
under consideration. It will, however, be of use to examine the
principle in its application to a single State, which shall be attended
to in another place.
The utility of a Confederacy, as well to suppress faction and to guard
the internal tranquillity of States, as to increase their external force
and security, is in reality not a new idea. It has been practiced upon
in different countries and ages, and has received the sanction of the
most approved writers on the subject of politics. The opponents of
the plan proposed have, with great assiduity, cited and circulated the
observations of Montesquieu on the necessity of a contracted territory
for a republican government. But they seem not to have been apprised of
the sentiments of that great man expressed in another part of his work,
nor to have adverted to the consequences of the principle to which they
subscribe with such ready acquiescence.
When Montesquieu recommends a small extent for republics, the standards
he had in view were of dimensions far short of the limits of
almost every one of these States. Neither Virginia, Massachusetts,
Pennsylvania, New York, North Carolina, nor Georgia can by any means be
compared with the models from which he reasoned and to which the terms
of his description apply. If we therefore take his ideas on this point
as the criterion of truth, we shall be driven to the alternative either
of taking refuge at once in the arms of monarchy, or of splitting
ourselves into an infinity of little, jealous, clashing, tumultuous
commonwealths, the wretched nurseries of unceasing discord, and the
miserable objects of universal pity or contempt. Some of the writers who
have come forward on the other side of the question seem to have been
aware of the dilemma; and have even been bold enough to hint at the
division of the larger States as a desirable thing. Such an infatuated
policy, such a desperate expedient, might, by the multiplication of
petty offices, answer the views of men who possess not qualifications to
extend their influence beyond the narrow circles of personal intrigue,
but it could never promote the greatness or happiness of the people of
America.
Referring the examination of the principle itself to another place, as
has been already mentioned, it will be sufficient to remark here that,
in the sense of the author who has been most emphatically quoted upon
the occasion, it would only dictate a reduction of the SIZE of the more
considerable MEMBERS of the Union, but would not militate against their
being all comprehended in one confederate government. And this is the
true question, in the discussion of which we are at present interested.
So far are the suggestions of Montesquieu from standing in opposition
to a general Union of the States, that he explicitly treats of a
confederate republic as the expedient for extending the sphere of
popular government, and reconciling the advantages of monarchy with
those of republicanism.
"It is very probable," (says he(1)) "that mankind would have been
obliged at length to live constantly under the government of a single
person, had they not contrived a kind of constitution that has all the
internal advantages of a republican, together with the external force of
a monarchical government. I mean a CONFEDERATE REPUBLIC."
"This form of government is a convention by which several smaller STATES
agree to become members of a larger ONE, which they intend to form. It
is a kind of assemblage of societies that constitute a new one, capable
of increasing, by means of new associations, till they arrive to such a
degree of power as to be able to provide for the security of the united
body."
"A republic of this kind, able to withstand an external force, may
support itself without any internal corruptions. The form of this
society prevents all manner of inconveniences."
"If a single member should attempt to usurp the supreme authority, he
could not be supposed to have an equal authority and credit in all the
confederate states. Were he to have too great influence over one, this
would alarm the rest. Were he to subdue a part, that which would still
remain free might oppose him with forces independent of those which
he had usurped and overpower him before he could be settled in his
usurpation."
"Should a popular insurrection happen in one of the confederate states
the others are able to quell it. Should abuses creep into one part, they
are reformed by those that remain sound. The state may be destroyed on
one side, and not on the other; the confederacy may be dissolved, and
the confederates preserve their sovereignty."