It is one of the finest problems in legislation, and what has often
engaged my thoughts whilst I followed that profession, "What the state
ought to take upon itself to direct by the public wisdom, and what it
ought to leave, with as little interference as possible, to individual
discretion." Nothing, certainly, can be laid down on the subject that
will not admit of exceptions, many permanent, some occasional. But the
clearest line of distinction which I could draw, whilst I had my chalk
to draw any line, was this; that the state ought to confine itself to
what regards the state, or the creatures of the state;--namely, the
exterior establishment of its religion; its magistracy; its revenue;
its military force by sea and land; the corporations that owe their
existence to its fiat; in a word, to everything that is TRULY AND
PROPERLY public; to the public peace, to the public safety, to the
public order, to the public prosperity. In its preventive police it
ought to be sparing of its efforts, and to employ means, rather few,
unfrequent, and strong, than many and frequent, and, of course, as
they multiply their puny politic race, and dwindle, small and feeble.
Statesmen who know themselves will, with the dignity which belongs to
wisdom, proceed only in this the superior orb and first mover of their
duty steadily, vigilantly, severely, courageously: whatever remains
will, in a manner, provide for itself. But as they descend from the
state to a province, from a province to a parish, and from a parish to a
private house, they go on accelerated in their fall. They CANNOT do the
lower duty; and, in proportion as they try it, they will certainly fail
in the higher. They ought to know the different departments of things;
what belongs to laws, and what manners alone can regulate. To these,
great politicians may give a leaning, but they cannot give a law.