REMARKS _on the_ MANNERS, GOVERNMENT, _and_ DEBT _of the_ UNITED STATES.
Since the declaration and establishment of a general peace, and since
this country has had an opportunity to experience the effects of her
independence, events have taken place, which were little expected by the
friends of the revolution. It was expected, that on the ratification of
peace, by the belligerent powers, America would enjoy perfect political
tranquillity. The statesman in his closet, and the divine in his
addresses to heaven, predicted and anticipated the happy period, when
every man would rest, unmolested, under his own vine and his own fig
tree. The merchant foresaw, in vision, the ports of all nations open to
his ships, and the returns of a favorable commerce pouring wealth into
his coffers. The honest laborer, in the shop and the field, was told
that independence and peace would forever remove the fears of
oppression, would lighten his burthen, and give him legal security for
the uninterrupted possession of his rights. This flattering prospect
inspired an irresistible enthusiasm in war. The contention for freedom
was long and arduous; the prize was obtained; the delusion vanished, and
America is surprized at the disappointment.
Instead of general tranquillity, _one_ State has been involved in a
civil war, and most of them are torn with factions, which weaken or
destroy the energy of government. Instead of a free commerce with all
the world, our trade is every where fettered with restraints and
impositions, dictated by foreign interest; and instead of pouring wealth
into our country, its present tendency is, to impoverish both the
merchant and the public. Instead of legal security of rights under
governments of our own choice, and under our own control, we find
property at least unsafe, even in our best toned government. Our
charters may be wrested from us without a fault, our contracts may be
changed or set aside without our consent, by the breath of a popular
Legislature. Instead of a dimunition of taxes, our public charges are
multiplied; and to the weight of accumulating debts, we are perpetually
making accessions by expensiv follies. Instead of a union of States and
measures, essential to the welfare of a great nation, each State is
jealous of its neighbor, and struggling for the superiority in wealth
and importance, at the hazard even of our federal existence.
This is the dark side of our public affairs; but such are the facts. The
public and private embarrassments, which are both seen and felt, are the
topics of incessant declamation. The rhapsodies of orators, and the
publications in gazettes, from the northern to the southern extremity of
the United States, concur in deprecating the present state of this
country, and communicate the intelligence of our distresses to the whole
civilized world. Nor are newspapers the only heralds of our calamities.
The contempt of government among one class of men, the silent murmurs of
poverty in the peaceful cottage, and numerous bankrupts in every
quarter, are irresistible evidence to a thinking mind, that something is
wrong.
But declamation is idle, and murmurs fruitless. Time has been when the
minds of people were alarmed at the approaches of despotism: Then
harangues roused attention; then mobs raised the temple of freedom, and
declared themselves ready to be sacrificed upon her altar. But violent
passions in the public as well as in the human body, are always
transitory. That enthusiasm which was called _public spirit, heroic
virtue, and love of country_, has long ago subsided, and is absorbed in
the general steady principle, private interest. That enthusiasm is not
to be rekindled. The expostulations of our rulers and patriotic
writers, have no more effect in reviving public spirit, than the
attraction of a meteor in raising a tide.
Men, who embraced revolution principles, because independence might save
a few shillings in taxes, or extend the imaginary sphere of freedom; who
expected that peace would place them in a paradise of blessings, where
they might riot without the fatigue of exertion; such men had narrow
views of the consequence of detaching America from a transatlantic
jurisdiction. They viewed but a small part of the great event: They are,
they _ought to be_ disappointed. Such men expect effects without causes,
and are ready to despond, or commence enemies to a glorious event,
because miracles are not wrought to verify their ill founded
predictions.
In this view, this insect view of things, the revolution ought to be
considered as extremely unfortunate; for to the present generation, it
must certainly prove so.
But on the general scale of human happiness, every man of reflection
must rejoice at the illustrious event. Even the propriety of the
independence of these States, is so obviously dictated by their local
situation, that a generous European ought to have consented to the
measure on this single principle. But taking into consideration the vast
field which is here opened for improvements in science, in government,
in religion, and in morals; the philosopher will felicitate himself with
the prospect of discoveries favorable to arts and happiness; the
statesman will rejoice that there is a retreat from the vassalage of
Europe; the divine will bless God that a place has been reserved for an
uncorrupted church; and the philanthropist, who compares the yeomanry of
America with the peasantry of Europe, will congratulate himself on an
event which has removed millions of people from the ambition of princes,
and from a participation of the vices, which mark the decline of
nations.
The revolution of America, whatever may be the present effects, must, on
the universal scale of policy, prove fortunate, not only for the
parties, but for mankind in general. The period, however, when this
country will realize the happy consequences of her separation, must be
remote; probably beyond the lives of the present generation.
It is worth our curiosity to inquire into the causes of our present
political evils; not the more obvious causes, which every man sees and
laments, but those radical causes which lie hid from common observation;
whose operations are imperceptible, but whose effects are visible, even
to a vulgar eye.
A fundamental mistake of the Americans has been, that they considered
the revolution as completed, when it was but just begun. Having raised
the pillars of the building, they ceased to exert themselves, and seemed
to forget that the whole superstructure was then to be erected. This
country is independent in government; but totally dependent in manners,
which are the basis of government. Men seem not to attend to the
difference between Europe and America, in point of age and improvement;
and are disposed to rush, with heedless emulation, into an imitation of
manners, for which we are not prepared.
Every person tolerably well versed in history, knows that nations are
often compared to individuals and to vegetables, in their progress from
their origin to maturity and decay. The resemblance is striking and
just. This progress is as certain in nations as in vegetables; it is as
obvious, and its causes more easily understood; in proportion as the
secret springs of action in government are more easily explained, than
the mechanical principles of vegetation.
This progress therefore being assumed as a conceded fact, suggests a
forcible argument against the introduction of European manners into
America. The business of men in society is, first, to secure their
persons and estates by arms and wholesome laws; then to procure the
conveniences of life by arts and labor; but it is in the last stages
only of national improvement, when luxury and amusements become public
benefits, by dissipating accumulations of wealth, and furnishing
employment and food for the poor. And luxury then is not beneficial,
except when the wealth of a nation is wasted within itself. It is
perhaps always true, that an old civilized nation cannot, with
propriety, be the model for an infant nation, either in morals, in
manners or fashions, in literature or in government.
The present ambition of Americans is, to introduce as fast as possible,
the fashionable amusements of the European courts. Considering the
former dependence of America on England, her descent, her connexion and
present intercourse, this ambition cannot surprise us. But it must check
this ambition to reflect on the consequences. It will not be denied,
that there are vices predominant in the most polite cities in Europe,
which are not only unknown, but are seldom mentioned in America; and
vices that are infamous beyond conception. I presume it will not be
denied that there must be an amazing depravation of mind in a nation,
where a farce is a publication of more consequence than Milton's Poem;
and where an opera dancer, or an Italian singer, receives a salary equal
to that of an Ambassador. The facts being known and acknowleged, I
presume the consequence will not be denied. Not that this charge is good
against every individual; even in the worst times, there will be found
many exceptions to the general character of a nation.
If these vices and the depravation of mind do actually exist, it is a
proof of a gradual corruption; for there was a time when they did not
exist. There was a time when decency was a virtue, even at Venice. The
progress is also slow, unless hastened by some external circumstances.
It was more than two thousand years from the building of Rome to the
pontificate of Alexander the VIth whose naked revelings filled the
measure of public vice, and strike the human mind with horror.
A constant increase of wealth is ever followed by a multiplication of
vices: This seems to be the destiny of human affairs; wisdom, therefore,
directs us to retard, if possible, and not to accelerate the progress
of corruption. But an introduction of the fashionable diversions of
Europe into America, is an acceleration of the growth of vices which are
yet in their infancy, and an introduction of new ones too infamous to be
mentioned. A dancing school among the Tuscaroras, is not a greater
absurdity than a masquerade in America. A theater, under the best
regulations, is not essential to our public and private happiness. It
may afford entertainment to individuals; but it is at the expense of
private taste and public morals. The great misfortune of all exhibitions
of this kind is this; that they reduce all taste to a level. Not only
the vices of all classes of people are brought into view, but of all
ages and nations. The intrigues of a nobleman, and the scurrility of
shoe blacks, are presented to the view of both sexes, of all ages; the
vices of the age of Elizabeth and of Charles IId are recorded by the
masterly pens of a Shakespeare and a Congreve, and by repeated
representation, they are "hung on high," as the poet expresses it, "to
poison half mankind." The fact is, that all characters must be presented
upon a theater, because all characters are spectators; and a nobleman
and a sailor, a dutchess and a washer woman, that attend constantly on
the exhibitions of vice, become equally depraved; their tastes will be
nearly alike as to vice; the one is as prepared for a crime as the
other. It is for this reason, that many of the amusements of nations
more depraved than ourselves, are highly pernicious in this country.
They carry us forward by hasty strides, to the last stages of
corruption; a period that every benevolent man will deprecate and
endeavor to retard. This circumstance, the difference in the stages of
our political existence, should make us shun the vices which may be
politic and even necessary in older states; and endeavor to preserve our
manners by being our own standards. By attaching ourselves to foreign
manners, we counteract the good effects of the revolution, or rather
render them incomplete. A revolution in the form of government, is but a
revolution in name; unless attended with a change of principles and
manners, which are the springs of government.
This leads me to treat more particularly of the influence of fashions on
the interests of these States; an article in which the ladies are deeply
interested.
Fashion in itself is a matter of indifference, as affecting neither
morals nor politeness. It is of no consequence whether a lady is clad
with a gown or a frock; or whether a gentleman appears in public with a
cap or a wig. But there may be times and situations in which the most
trifling things become important. The practice of imitating foreign
modes of dress, cannot cost America less than 100,000l. a year. I speak
not of the necessary articles of dress; but merely of changes of
fashions.
To understand this fact, it is necessary to advert to the different
circumstances of this country, and of the European kingdoms, which we
take as our models.
Two circumstances distinguish most of the commercial countries of Europe
from America; a feudal division of real property, and manufactures.
Where vast estates are hereditary and unalienable, a great part of the
people are dependent on the rich, and if the rich do not employ them,
they must starve. Thus in England and France, a great landholder
possesses a hundred times the property that is necessary for the
subsistence of a family; and each landlord has perhaps a hundred
families dependent on him for subsistence. On this statement, if the
landlord should live penuriously, and supply his own family only with
necessaries, all his dependents must starve. In order to subsist the
ninety nine families, he must create wants, which their employment must
supply; for the natural wants of a few rich people will not furnish
employment for great multitudes of poor. Hence the good policy, the
necessity of luxury in most European kingdoms. Hence originate all the
changes and varieties of fashion. A gentleman or lady in London must not
appear in public twice in the same suit. This is a regulation of custom,
but it is highly political; for were the nobility and rich gentry to
wear out all their clothes, one half the people must be beggars. The
fashions of England and France are not merely matter of fancy: Fancy may
dictate new and odd figures in dress; but the general design of frequent
and continual changes of fashion, is wise systematic policy, at the
courts of London and Paris.
But let us see with how little discretion and policy _we_ adopt foreign
luxuries. America is a young country, with small inequalities of
property, and without manufactures. Few people are here dependent on the
rich, for every man has an opportunity of becoming rich himself.
Consequently few people are supported by the luxuries of the wealthy;
and even these few are mostly foreigners.
But we have no body of manufacturers to support by dissipation. All our
superfluities are imported, and the consumption of them in this country
enriches the merchants and supports the poor of Europe. We are generous
indeed! generous to a fault. This is the pernicious, the fatal effect of
our dependence on foreign nations for our manners. We labor day and
night, we sacrifice our peace and reputation, we defraud our public
creditors, involve ourselves in debts, impoverish our country: Nay, many
are willing to become bankrupts and take lodgings in a prison, for the
sake of being as foolish as those nations which subsist their poor and
grow rich and respectable by their follies.
No objection can be made to rich and elegant dresses among people of
affluent circumstances. But perhaps we may safely calculate that one
third of the expenses incurred by dress in this country, add nothing
either to convenience or elegance.
A new dress is invented in London or Paris, not for the sake of superior
elegance, because it frequently happens that a new dress is less rich
and elegant than an old one; but for the sake of giving food to
manufacturers. That new fashion is sent across the Atlantic; let it be
ever so troublesome and uncouth, we admire its novelty; we adopt it
because it is fashionable; and merely for a change, that may be made in
half an hour by a tailor or a milliner, 20, 30, or 50,000 pounds are
drawn from the capital stocks of property in America, to enrich nations
which command our commerce and smile at our folly.
But it is not only the wealth of this country that is sacrificed by our
servile imitation of other nations; our complaisance often requires us
to dispense with good taste.
It will probably be admitted that amidst the infinite variety of dresses
which are fashionable, during a course of ten or fifteen years, some of
them must be more convenient and elegant than others. True taste in
dress consists in setting off the person to the best advantage. That
dress which unites the articles of convenience, simplicity and neatness,
in the greatest perfection, must be considered as the most elegant. But
true taste goes farther; it has reference to age, to shape, to
complexion, and to the season of the year. The same dress which adorns a
miss of fifteen, will be frightful on a venerable lady of seventy. The
same dress will embellish one lady and disfigure another. But the
passive disposition of Americans in receiving every mode that is offered
them, sometimes reduces all ages, shapes and complexions to a level.
I will not undertake to say that people ought not, in the article of
dress, to sacrifice taste to national interest. A sacrifice of that
kind, in a manufacturing country, may be laudable; it will at least be
pardonable. But in a reverse of situation, in America, where a waste of
property and a group of political evils accompany a bad taste, the
sacrifice admits of no apology.
It is not unfrequent to hear ladies complain severely of the
inconvenience of fashion. Their good sense disapproves and their taste
revolts at incumbrances. And yet where is the lady who would not sooner
submit to any fatigue, rather than be ridiculous. I speak of ladies
particularly; in point of expense, the gentlemens' dresses are
exceptionable as well as the ladies; in point of convenience, the ladies
are the greatest sufferers by fashion, as their dress admits of the
greatest variety of incumbrances.
Perhaps the trouble of conforming entirely to the fashions of Europe is
as great a tax upon the ladies, as the expense is to their husbands and
parents.
One society of people, the Friends, are happily released from the
tyranny and inconveniencies of fashion. However disagreeable the
restraints of their religion may appear in other respects, it must be
acknowledged that, in point of dress, the rules of their society conform
to purity of taste.
Perhaps we may safely estimate, that the ladies of that society dress
with two thirds of the expense which other ladies incur, even when the
articles of their dress are equally rich and expensiv; the difference is
saved by neglecting superfluous finery. And are not their taste in
dress, their simplicity and neatness, universally admired? Does it not
set off their persons to the best advantage? Do not gentlemen almost
universally give the preference to the taste of Quaker ladies? Nay, I
would ask, whether other ladies themselves, under a strong bias in favor
of a tawdry dress, are not frequently lavishing encomiums on the
superior elegance and convenience of the Friends' dresses? And how often
do they sigh beneath the trouble of their own dress, and wish that
particular articles would go out of fashion.
If there is any thing on earth, which can make a rational mind disgusted
with society, it is that cruel necessity, which obliges a person to
sacrifice both his interest and his taste, or run the hazard of being
laughed at for his singularity.
In some Asiatic countries, people never change their modes of dress.
This uniformity, which continues for ages, proceeds from the same
principles as the monthly changes in England and France; both proceed
from necessity and policy. Both arise from good causes which operate in
the several governments; that is, the manners of each government are
subservient to its particular interest. The reverse is true of this
country. Our manners are wholly subservient to the interest of foreign
nations. Where do we find, in dress or equipage, the least reference to
the circumstances of this country! Is it not the sole ambition of the
Americans to be just like other nations, without the means of supporting
the resemblance? We ought not to harbor any spleen or prejudice against
foreign kingdoms. This would be illiberal. They are wise, they are
respectable. We should despise the man that piques himself on his own
country, and treats all others with indiscriminate contempt. I wish to
see much less jealousy and ill nature subsisting between the Americans
and English. But in avoiding party spirit and resentment on the one
hand, we should be very careful of servility on the other. There is a
manly pride in true independence, which is equally remote from insolence
and meanness; a pride that is characteristic of great minds. Have
Americans discovered this pride since the declaration of peace? We boast
of independence, and with propriety. But will not the same men, who
glory in this great event, even in the midst of a gasconade, turn to a
foreigner and ask him, "what is the latest fashion in Europe!" He has
worn an elegant suit of clothes for six weeks; he might wear it a few
weeks longer, but it has not so many buttons as the last suit of my
lord ----: He throws it aside, and gets one that has. The suit costs him
a sum of money; but it keeps him in the fashion, and feeds the poor of
Great Britain or France. It is a singular phenomenon, and to posterity
it will appear incredible, that a nation of heroes, who have conquered
armies, and raised an empire, should not have the spirit to say--_we
will wear our clothes as we please_.
Let it not be thought that this is a trifling subject; a matter of no
consequence. Mankind are governed by opinion; and while we flatter
ourselves that we enjoy independence, because no foreign power can
impose laws upon us, we are groaning beneath the tyranny of opinion; a
tyranny more severe than the laws of monarchs; a dominion voluntary
indeed, but for that reason, more effectual; an authority of manners
which commands our services, and sweeps away the fruits of our labor.
I repeat the sentiment with which I began; the revolution of America is
yet incomplete. We are now in a situation to answer all the purposes of
the European nations; independent in government, and dependent in
manners. They give us their fashions, they direct _our_ taste to make a
market for _their_ commodities; they engross the profits of our
industry, without the hazard of defending us, or the expense of
supporting our civil government. A situation more favorable to _their_
interest, or more repugnant to our _own_, _they_ could not have chosen
for us, nor _we_ embraced.
If such is the state of facts, and if the influence of foreign manners
does actually defeat the purposes of the revolution; if our implicit
submission to the prevailing taste of European courts, involves
individuals and the public in unnecessary expenses, it is in the power
of a few influential characters in each of our commercial cities to
remedy the whole evil. And in a reformation of this kind, the ladies
would have no inconsiderable share.
It is really a matter of astonishment, that the pride of the Americans
has so long submitted tamely to a foreign yoke. Aside of all regard to
interest, we should expect that the idea of being a nation of apes would
mortify minds accustomed to freedom of thought, and would prompt them to
spurn their chains.
Have the ladies in America no ingenuity, no taste? Do they not
understand what dresses are most convenient and elegant? What modes are
best adapted to the climate, or other circumstances of this country?
They most certainly do. Foreigners acknowlege that the nativ beauty and
understanding of the American ladies are not excelled in any country,
and equalled in very few. And one would imagin that the modes of
embellishing so many personal charms ought not, in all cases, to be
prescribed by the milliners and manteau makers on the other side of the
Atlantic. A noble pride should forbid that ladies of birth and breeding
should be wholly indebted to the taste of others, for the decorations of
their beauty.
When the gentlemen in America shall exercise spirit enough to be their
own judges of taste in dress: When they have wisdom to consult the
circumstances of this country, and fortitude enough to retain a fashion
as long as their _own interest_ requires, instead of changing it when
_other nations_ direct: When the ladies shall exercise the rights of
their sex, and say, we will _give_ the laws of fashion to our _own
nation_, instead of _receiving_ them from _another_, we will perform our
part of the revolution: When both sexes shall take more pride and
pleasure in being their own standards, than in being the humble
imitators of those who riot on the profits of our commerce; we shall
realize a new species of independence; an independence flattering to
generous minds, and more productive of wealth than all the laws of
power, or the little arts of national policy. And in this revolution of
manners, there needs not any sacrifice of real dress. I will venture to
estimate, that the retrenching of superfluous articles; articles which
constitute no part of dress, and serve but to disfigure an elegant
person; articles that are made and sent to us to support the sixpenny
day laborers of Europe; I say, a retrenching of these trifling articles
only, would be an annual saving to America sufficient to pay one half of
the interest of our federal debt. We can throw no blame on foreign
nations; they are wise, and profit by our want of spirit and taste.
On the footing that all mankind are brethren, perhaps it is generous in
us to assist foreigners, who are a part of the Great Family.
It is to be wished, however, that we might first discharge our honest
debts: That the soldier, whose labor and blood have purchased our
empire, and whose services have been repaid with a shadow of reward,
might be indemnified by the justice of his country: That the widow and
orphan might at least receive the stipulated satisfaction for losses
which money cannot repair. Yes, let us first be _just_, and then
_generous_. When we have no better use for our superfluous property,
then let us bestow it upon our wretched brethren of the human race. They
will repay our charity with gratitude, and bless God that he has peopled
one half the world with a race of freemen, to enrich the tyrants, and
support the vassals of the other.
In another particular, our dependence on nations farther advanced in
society than ourselves, has a very unhappy effect.
I assume it as a fact, conceded by all philosophers and historians, that
there has been, in every civilized nation, a particular period of time,
peculiarly favorable to literary researches; and that in this period,
language and taste arrive to purity; the best authors flourish, and
genius is exerted to benefit mankind.
This period in Greece was the age of Themistocles, immediately after the
invasion of Xerxes. In Rome, it was the reign of Augustus Cæsar, when a
revolution had left the empire in a state of tranquillity. In France,
the reign of Louis the XIVth was distinguished for the number and
eminence of its authors, and the correctness of taste. The corresponding
period of taste in England, commenced about the middle of the sixteenth
century, and ended with the reign of George the IId. Scotland was later
in improvement; but perhaps has now seen its meridian splendor.
There seems to be a certain point of improvement beyond which every step
in refinement is corruption; moral sentiment is postponed to wit, and
sense is sacrificed to sound. This has been the case in all nations, and
is now true of England. The candid among the nation acknowlege and
lament the decline of true taste and science. Very few valuable writings
appear in the present age; plays, novels, farces, and compilations fill
the catalogue of new publications; and the library of a man of fashion
consists of Chesterfield's Letters, Tristram Shandy, and a few comedies.
A gentleman in high office in London, in a letter to an eminent literary
character in America, which I had the honor to read, informs, "that so
low is the taste of the nation, that were Milton's Poem to be now first
published, it would not find purchasers: Music and painting are the only
arts that have royal encouragement." He says further, "that there is a
national combination to oppose the fame of every American art,
production and character." I would hope that this account is an
exaggeration of the truth; but we have the best testimony to convince us
that every thing is sacrificed to amusement and pleasure.
We ought not therefore to form our taste after such models: In order to
write, think and act with propriety, we should go back half a century,
to the style and morality of Addison and his cotemporaries; there we may
find the most perfect models.
By making the present taste of Europe our standards, we not only debase
our own, but we check the attempts of genius in this country.
Eminence is sometimes apt to impose errors upon people, whose respect
for the character may silence all scruple, and prevent them from
examining into the grounds of his opinion. Such is the implicit
confidence reposed in the opinions of certain celebrated writers, that
when an American ventures to call in question a received principle or
opinion of theirs, his countrymen charge him with arrogance, and
exclaim, how should this man be as good a judge of the subject as a
foreigner! Such false notions of the perfection of particular character,
fetter the mind, and in concert with credulity and idleness, prepare it
for the reception of any errors, however enormous.
This same veneration for eminent foreigners, and the bewitching charms
of fashion, have led the Americans to adopt the modern corruptions of
our language. Very seldom have men examined the structure of the
language, to find reasons for their practice. The pronunciation and use
of words have been subject to the same arbitrary or accidental changes,
as the shape of their garments. My lord wears a hat of a certain size
and shape; he pronounces a word in a certain manner; and both must be
right, for he is a fashionable man. In Europe this is right in dress;
and men who have not an opportunity of learning the just rules of our
language, are in some degree excuseable for imitating those whom they
consider as superiors. But in men of science, this imitation can hardly
be excused.
Our language was spoken in purity about eighty years ago; since which
time, great numbers of faults have crept into practice about the theater
and court of London. An affected erroneous pronunciation has in many
instances taken place of the true; and new words or modes of speech have
succeeded the ancient correct English phrases.
Thus we have, in the modern English pronunciation, their natshures,
conjunctshures, constitshutions, and tshumultshuous legislatshures; and
a long catalogue of fashionable improprieties. These are a direct
violation of the rules of analogy and harmony; they offend the ear, and
embarrass the language. Time was, when these errors were unknown; they
were little known in America before the revolution. I presume we may
safely say, that our language has suffered more injurious changes in
America, since the British army landed on our shores, than it had
suffered before, in the period of three centuries. The bucks and bloods
tell us that there is no proper standard in language; that it is all
arbitrary. The assertion, however, serves but to show their ignorance.
There are, in the language itself, decisive reasons for preferring one
pronunciation to another; and men of science should be acquainted with
these reasons. But if there were none, and every thing rested on
practice, we should never change a general practice without substantial
reasons: No change should be introduced, which is not an obvious
improvement.
But our leading characters seem to pay no regard to rules, or their
former practice. To know and embrace every change made in Great Britain,
whether right or wrong, is the extent of their inquiries, and the height
of their ambition. It is to this deference we may ascribe the long
catalogue of errors in pronunciation and of false idioms which disfigure
the language of our mighty fine speakers. And should this imitation
continue, we shall be hurried down the stream of corruption, with older
nations, and our language, with theirs, be lost in an ocean of perpetual
changes. The only hope we can entertain is, that America, driven by the
shock of a revolution, from the rapidity of the current, may glide along
near the margin with a gentler stream, and sometimes be wafted back by
an eddy.
The foregoing remarks suggest some of the causes which operate to defeat
the true end of the revolution. Every man sees and feels our political
embarrassments; the foes of the revolution ascribe them all to that
event, and the friends charge them upon the enmity and resentment of our
parent country. Both are wrong. The revolution is, and will ultimately
prove, a happy event for us and for the world. The English, as a nation,
are wise and respectable: As citizens of the world, we should esteem
them: As a commercial people, we should cultivate a friendly intercourse
with them; but as a foreign nation, whose political circumstances are
very different from ours, we should not make them, in all cases, our
standard. I repeat the declaration I before made: The independence of
this country is incomplete: There has been a total change in government,
with little or no change in the principles which give energy to the
operations of government.
In the preceding remarks, I have endeavored to shew in what respect the
revolution of America is yet incomplete, and that an independence of
manners and opinion is necessary to give full effect to an independence
of government. I propose now to make some remarks on government, to
state the effects of the revolution on the morals of people, and the
influence of money on mens' sense of justice and moral obligation.
It is perhaps a fundamental principle of government, that men are
influenced more by habit, than by any abstract ideas of right and wrong.
Few people examin into the propriety of particular usages or laws; or
if they examin, few indeed are capable of comprehending their propriety.
But every man knows what is a law or general practice, and he conforms
to it, not because it is right or best, but because it has been the
practice. It is for this reason that habits of obedience should not be
disturbed. There are perhaps in every government, some laws and customs,
which, when examined on theoretical principles, will be found unjust and
even impolitic. But if the people acquiesce in those laws and customs,
if they are attached to them by habit, it is wrong in the Legislature to
attempt an innovation which shall alarm their apprehensions. There are
multitudes of absurdities practised in society, in which people are
evidently happy. Arraign those absurdities before the tribunal of
examination; people may be convinced of their impropriety; they may even
be convinced that better schemes may be projected; and yet it might be
impossible to unite their opinions so as to establish different maxims.
On the other hand, there are many good institutions, in which, however,
there may be theoretical faults, which, if called into public view, and
artfully represented, might shake the best government on earth.
Speculativ philosophers and historians have often described, and
sometimes ridiculed the warmth with which nations have defended errors
in religion and government. With the most profound deference for wise
and respectable men, I must think they are guilty of a mistake; and that
the errors which nations fight to defend, exist only in the heads of
these theorists. Whatever speculation may tell us, experience and the
peace of society, require us to consider every thing as right, which a
nation believes to be so. Every institution, every custom, may be deemed
just and proper, which does not produce inconveniencies that the bulk of
mankind may see and feel. The tranquillity of society therefore should
never be disturbed for a philosophical distinction.
It will perhaps be objected, that these doctrines, if practised, would
prevent all improvements, in science, religion and government. By no
means; but they point out the method in which all improvements should be
made, when opinion and fixed habits are to be overthrown, or changed.
They show that all reformation should be left to the natural progress of
society, or to the conviction of the mind. They show the hazard and
impracticability of making changes, before the minds of the body of the
people are prepared for the innovation. I speak not of despotic
governments, where the will of the prince is enforced by an army; and
yet even absolute tyrants have been assassinated for not attending to
the spirit and habits of their subjects.
In vain do rulers oppose the general opinion of the people. By such
opposition, Philip IId, of Spain, kept one part of his subjects, for
half a century, butchering the other, and in the end, lost one third of
his dominions. By not regarding the change of habits in the nation,
Charles Ist, of England, lost his head. By carrying his changes too far,
Cromwell began to oppose the spirit of the nation, and had he lived to
prosecute his system, that spirit would, in a few years, have brought
his neck to the block. The general spirit of the nation restored to the
throne, the son of the prince, whom that spirit had but a few years
before arraigned and condemned. By opposing that spirit, James was
obliged to leave his kingdom, and the sense of the nation still excludes
the family which, by their own law of succession, has the best title to
the throne. But there is no prescription against general opinion; no
right that can enter the list against the sense of a nation; that sense,
which after all our reasoning, will forever determin what is best.
The truth of these remarks is proved by examples in this country. An
immense revenue might have been drawn from America without resistance,
in almost any method but that which the British parliament adopted. But
their first attempts were made upon articles of common necessity; the
attempts were too visible; the people felt and resisted. Their
apprehensions were alarmed; their fears, whether well founded or
imaginary, were multiplied and confirmed by newspaper rhapsodies, and
finally produced a combined opposition to all British taxation. Then
Great Britain should have compounded; she did not; she opposed the
general sense of three millions of her subjects, and lost the whole.
A dispute existed between Connecticut and Pensylvania, respecting a
tract of land; a federal court decided the jurisdiction, or State claim,
in favor of Pensylvania; five thousand inhabitants, seated on the lands,
acknowlege the jurisdiction, but contend that their original purchase,
and subsequent labor, entitle them to the lands. Notwithstanding the
invalidity of their State claim, the settlers determin to maintain their
lands. The question of right is at once suspended, and the only inquiry
is, which is the best policy, to indemnify a few individuals by a
pecuniary composition, or sacrifice five thousand subjects. This
question, left to the commonwealth, would be decided by a great
majority, in favor of the settlers, and against the very principles of
right on which the State holds the jurisdiction.
I am not competent to judge of the merits of the dispute between New
York and Vermont; but if the usurpation of Vermont were a conceded fact,
and that usurpation to be defended by arms, and the question of granting
them independence were left to the State of New York, I am confident
that nine tenths of the people would decide for the independence of
Vermont against their own rights.
Thus it often happens, that a general opinion, grounded on rational
expediency, will, and ought to decide political questions, contrary to
the strict principles of justice and equity.
I would, by no means, be understood to defend, by such doctrines, the
insurrections of a neighboring State. I reprobate every thing that wears
the least appearance of opposition to lawful authority. It is evident
however, that the Legislature of Massachusetts were too inattentive to
the general spirit of the State. The murmurs of the people were heard
long before they broke out into rebellion, and were treated with too
much neglect. They were a proof at least that something was wrong. This
the Legislature acknowleged in their late acts, and the complaints of
the populace might once have been silenced by such conciliatory
measures.
But an opposition so violent must suddenly cease, or acquire system. In
the latter case, the demands of the insurgents will rise in proportion
to their strength; they will ask unreasonable concessions, and the sword
must decide their claims. The insurgents took wrong steps to obtain
redress; they should have rested their agrievances on petitions, and the
event of an election; but one rash step leads to a second, and to a
third. These fatal effects of popular discontent afford one useful
lesson, that rulers should not attempt to carry a measure against the
general voice of a people.[35] But a question will arise, how far may
the people be opposed, when their schemes are evidently pernicious? I
answer, this can never happen thro design; and errors, even of the
populace, may gradually be removed. If the people cannot be convinced,
by reason and argument, of the impolicy or injustice of a favorite
scheme, we have only to wait for the consequences to produce conviction.
All people are not capable of just reasoning on the great scale of
politics; but all can feel the inconveniencies of wrong measures, and
evils of this kind generally furnish their own remedy. All popular
Legislatures are liable to great mistakes. Many of the acts of the
American Legislatures, respecting money and commerce, will, to future
generations, appear incredible. After repeated experiments, people will
be better informed, and astonished that their fathers could make such
blunders in legislation.
[35] Some have suspected from these sentiments, that I favor
the insurrection in Massachusetts. If it is necessary to be
more explicit than I have been in the declaration, "_I
reprobate, &c._" I must add, that in governments like ours,
derived from the people, I believe there is no _possible
situation_ in which violent opposition to laws can be
justified; because it can never be necessary. _General evils_
will always be legally redressed, and _partial evils_ must be
borne, if the majority require it. A tender law, which
interferes with _past_ contracts, is perhaps the wickedest
act that a Legislature can be guilty of; and yet I think the
people in Rhode Island have done right, in not opposing
their's, in a violent manner.
If the people of this State[36] are not already convinced, they
certainly will be, that the addition of 150,000l. of paper, to the
current specie of the State, did not increase the permanent value of
circulating medium a single farthing. They were perhaps told that such a
sum of paper would shut up the specie, or enable the merchant to export
it; but their jealousy made them believe these the suggestions of
interest; and nothing but the experiment could satisfy their wishes.
Every man of reflection must regret that he is subject to the evils
consequent on popular mistakes in judgement; but this is the price of
our independence and our forms of government.
[36] Pensylvania.
Let us attend to the immediate and necessary consequences of the
American revolution.
So great an event as that of detaching millions of people from their
parent nation, could not have been effected without the operation of
powerful causes. Nothing but a series of real or imaginary evils could
have shaken the habits by which we were governed, and produced a
combined opposition against the power of Great Britain. I shall not
enumerate any of these evils; but observe that such evils, by twenty
years operation upon the fears or feelings of the Americans, had
alienated their affections or weakened those habits of respect, by which
they were predisposed to voluntary obedience. When a government has lost
respect, it has lost the main pillar of its authority. Not even a
military force can supply the want of respect among subjects. A change
of sentiment prepares the way for a change of government, and when that
change of sentiment had become general in America, nothing could have
prevented a revolution.
But it is more easy to excite fears than to remove them. The jealousy
raised in the minds of Americans against the British government, wrought
a revolution; but the spirit did not then subside; it changed its
object, and by the arts of designing men, and the real distresses
consequent on such a political storm, was directed against our own
governments. The restraints imposed by respect and habits of obedience
were broken thro, and the licentious passions of men set afloat.
Nothing can be so fatal to morals and the peace of society, as a violent
shock given to public opinion or fixed habits. Polemic disputes have
often destroyed the friendship of a church, and filled it, not only with
rancor, but with immorality. Public opinion therefore in religion and
government, the great supports of society, should never be suddenly
unhinged. The separation of America, however, from all dependence on
European government, could not have been effected without previously
attacking and changing opinion. It was an essential step, but the
effects of it will not easily be repaired. That independence of spirit
which preceded the commencement of hostilities, and which victory has
strengthened; that love of dominion, inherent in the mind of man, which
our forms of government are continually flattering; that licentiousness
of inquiry which a jealousy of rights first produced and still
preserves, cannot be controled and subdued, but by a long series of
prudent and vigorous measures.
Perhaps the present age will hardly see the restoration of perfect
tranquillity. But the spirit and principles, which wrought our
separation from Great Britain, will mostly die with the present
generation; the next generation will probably have new habits of
obedience to our new governments; and habits will govern them, with very
little support from law.
The force of habit in government is most strikingly illustrated by the
example of Connecticut. Most of the laws, customs and institutions,
which the people brought with them from England, or which they
introduced, on their first settlement, remain to this day, with such
small alterations only as would naturally be made in the progress of
society and population.
The government of Connecticut had formerly little more than a nominal
dependence on England; independence therefore required but a little
change of the old constitution. The habits of the people have not been
materially changed; their respect for the government has not been
suspended nor diminished. It would therefore be extremely difficult to
raise an insurrection in that State against their own government;[37]
for they have not been accustomed to dispute the propriety of their
established maxims and laws. Whatever alterations in their constitution,
a discerning Legislator might suggest, it would be highly impolitic to
attempt any changes, which should disturb public opinion or alarm
apprehension. When a law or custom becomes inconvenient, the people will
feel the evil and apply a remedy.
[37] This assertion may seem to be contradicted by the
opposition of Connecticut to the half pay act; but that
opposition did not even threaten violence or arms: It was
conducted in a peaceable manner; and I do not know that the
State has furnished an instance of a tumultuous interruption
of law.
Most of the other States had new constitutions of government to form;
they had a kind of interregnum; an interval, when respect for all
government was suspended; an interval fatal in the last degree, to
morals and social confidence. This interval between the abolition of the
old constitution and the formation of a new one, lasted longer in
Massachusetts than in the other States, and there the effects are most
visible. But perhaps it is impossible to frame a constitution of
government, in the closet, which will suit the people; for it is
frequent to find one, the most perfect in theory, the most objectionable
in practice. Hence we often hear popular complaints against the present
governments in America: And yet these may proceed rather from the
novelty of the obedience required, than from any real errors or defects
in the systems: It may be nothing but the want of habit which makes
people uneasy; the same articles which now produce clamors and
discontent, may, after twenty years practice, give perfect satisfaction.
Nay, the same civil regulation, which the present generation may raise a
mob to resist, the next generation may raise a mob to defend.
But perhaps a more immediate and powerful cause of a corruption of
social principles, is a fluctuation of money. Few people seem to attend
to the connexion between money and morals; but it may doubtless be
proved to the satisfaction of every reflecting mind, that a sudden
increase of specie in a country, and frequent and obvious changes of
value, are more fruitful sources of corruption of morals than any events
that take place in a community.
America began the late war without funds of money, and its circulating
specie was very inconsiderable. Commerce was regular, and _speculation_,
a term unknown to the body of the people.
The emission of paper was an obvious and necessary expedient; yet it was
bad policy to throw vast sums into circulation without taking some
measures to recall it. It was the fate of America to receive in bills of
credit, and in the course of three or four years, about twenty times the
nominal value of its current specie; the bills depreciated in the same
proportion, and the real value of the medium continued the same.
The first visible effect of an augmentation of the medium and the
consequent fluctuation of value, was, a host of jockies, who followed a
species of itinerant commerce; and subsisted upon the ignorance and
honesty of the country people; or in other words, upon the difference in
the value of the currency, in different places. Perhaps we may safely
estimate, that not less than 20,000 men in America, left honest
callings, and applied themselves to this knavish traffic. A sudden
augmentation of currency flattered people with the prospect of
accumulating property without labor.
The first effect of too much money is to check manual labor, the only
permanent source of wealth. Industry, which secures subsistence and
advances our interest by slow and regular gains, is the best
preservative of morals; for it keeps men employed, and affords them few
opportunities of taking unfair advantages. A regular commerce has nearly
the same effect as agriculture or the mechanic arts; for the principles
are generally fixed and understood.
Speculation has the contrary effect. As its calculations for profit
depend on no fixed principles, but solely on the different value of
articles in different parts of the country, or accidental and sudden
variations of value, it opens a field for the exercise of ingenuity in
taking advantage of these circumstances. The speculator may begin with
honest intentions; and may justify his business, by saying, that he
injures no man, when he givs the current value of an article in one
place, and sells it for its current value in another; altho in this case
he is a useless member of society, as he livs upon the labor of others,
without earning a farthing. But he does not stop here; he takes an
advantage of ignorance and necessity; he will, if possible, monopolize
an article to create a necessity. Repeated opportunities of this kind
gradually weaken the force of moral obligation; and nine persons of ten,
who enter into the business of speculation with a good character, will,
in a few years, lose their principles, and probably, their reputation.
Speculation is pernicious to morals, in proportion as its effects are
extensiv. Speculation in the English funds is practised on principles
destructiv of justice and morals; but it consists in the transfer of
large sums; the contingencies on which it depends are not frequent, and
the business is confined to a few sharpers in the metropolis. Such a
speculation affects not the body of the people. The medium circulating
in the kingdom, has a fixed permanent value, and affords no
opportunities for irregular gains.
Very different is speculation in America. Here its objects are in every
person's hands; changes of value are frequent; opportunities of gain,
numberless; and the evil pervades the community. The country swarms with
speculators, who are searching all places, from the stores of the
wealthy, to the recesses of indigence, for opportunities of making
lucrativ bargains. Not a tavern can we enter, but we meet crowds of
these people, who wear their character in their countenances.
But the speculators are not the only men whose character and principles
are exposed by such a state of the currency; the honest laborer and the
regular merchant are often tempted to forsake the established principles
of advance. Every temptation of this kind attacks the moral principles,
and exposes men to small deviations from the rectitude of commutativ
justice.
Such are the sources of corruption in commercial intercourse. A
relaxation of principle, in one instance, leads to every species of
vice, and operates till its causes cease to exist, or till all the
supports of social confidence are subverted. It is remarked by people
very illiterate and circumscribed in their observation, that there is
not now the same confidence between man and man, which existed before
the war. It is doubtless true; this distrust of individuals, a general
corruption of manners, idleness, and all its train of fatal
consequences, may be resolved into two causes: The sudden flood of money
during the late war, and a constant fluctuation of the value of the
currencies.
The effects of a sudden augmentation of the quantity of money in
circulation were so obvious, during the war, and the example is so
recent, that the subject requires no illustration, but a recollection of
facts. Yet there is an example recorded in the History of France, so
exactly in point, that I cannot omit it.
During the regency of the Duke of Orleans, one Law, who had fled from
punishment in Scotland, and taken refuge in France, obtained, by his
address, a great share of confidence in the councils of the regent. He
formed a plan of drawing all the specie from circulation, and issuing
bills upon the royal treasury. It is not necessary to name the
expedients he used to effect his purpose. It is sufficient to observe,
that by various methods, he drew most of the specie of the kingdom into
the public treasury, and issued bills to about one hundred times the
value of the specie, which had before circulated. The notes or
securities depreciated as they were thrown into circulation, like our
continental currency. The nature of a medium of trade, it seems, was not
well understood: Such a sudden depreciation was a surprising phenomenon
at that period; men of property, who were the holders of the paper, were
alarmed; the kingdom was in confusion. When the bills had sunk to a
fifth of their value, a royal edict was issued, ordaining that the
remaining specie in circulation should be sunk to a level with paper.
This resembles, in some respects, the regulation of prices in America.
An edict, so rash and absurd, increased the evils it was meant to
remedy, and filled the kingdom with clamor.
In a short time, the paper was sunk as low as our continental currency,
before its death.
The confusion was general; the regent and Law were obliged to fly the
kingdom; and both died in obscurity, the one in Italy, and the other, if
I mistake not, in the Netherlands. In France there was a total change of
property; poor men made fortunes by speculation, and the rich were
beggared. The result of the whole was, that the paper was called in at a
discount, by means similar to the _forty for one_ act of the United
States.
But the principal view I have in stating this example is, to show the
effect of a sudden inundation of money upon industry and morals. No
sooner did the nation feel an increase of the quantity of money, but the
kingdom was overrun with speculators; men who left useful occupations,
for the prospect of rapid accumulations of wealth. Knavery, over
reaching, idleness, prodigality, and every kind of vice prevailed, and
filled the kingdom with distress, confusion, and poverty.
The South Sea bubble, in England, was a farce of a similar kind, but its
effects were less extensiv.
The continental currency was not the sole cause of the idleness and
speculation, which prevailed in this country, about the years 1780,
1781, and 1782. Vast quantities of specie were introduced by the French
army, by the Spanish trade, and by a clandestine intercourse with the
British garrisons. At the close of the war, there was more than double
the quantity of gold and silver in the country, which was necessary for
the purposes of a regular commerce.
This extraordinary circulation of specie had its usual, its certain
effect; it prompted multitudes to quit manual labor for trade. This
circumstance, in conjunction with the disbanding of the army, which left
great numbers of men without employment, and with a rage for foreign
goods, which was always strong, and was then increased by a long war,
filled our commercial towns with hosts of adventurers in business. The
consequent influx of goods and enormous credit necessary to obtain them,
are evils that deeply affect this country. I will not attempt a detail
of the state of commerce in the United States; but observe that the
necessary exportation of specie was the happiest event that could befal
the United States; the only event that could turn industry into its
proper channel, and reduce the commerce of the country to a proportion
with the agriculture.
Dissipation was another consequence of a flood of money. No country
perhaps on earth can exhibit such a spirit of dissipation among men, who
derive their support from business, as America. It is supposed by good
judges, that the expenses of subsistence, dress and equipage, were
nearly doubled in the commercial towns, the two first years of the
peace. I have no doubt the support of the common people was enhanced
twenty five per cent. This augmentation of expenses, with a dimunition
of productiv industry, are the consequences of too much money, and a
scarcity is our only remedy.
Short sighted people complain of the present scarcity; but it is the
only hope of our political salvation; and that Legislature which
ventures to remove popular complaints, by a coinage of great quantities
of specie, or by its substitute, paper, checks industry, keeps alive a
spirit of dissipation, and retards the increase of solid wealth. If this
has been necessary, it is a necessity sincerely to be lamented.
But there is one source of idleness and corruption, which is general in
America, and bids fair to be of long duration. I refer to the different
species of federal and State securities, which are every where diffused,
and of fluctuating value. These evidences of our debts open such
prospects for rapid accumulations of property to every class of people,
that men cannot withstand the temptation: Thousands are drawn from
useful occupations into a course of life, which cannot possibly benefit
society; which must render them useless, and probably will render them
bad men, and dangerous members of a community.
What remedy can be applied to so great an evil, it is not for me to
determin. But if I may offer my sentiments freely, I must acknowlege
that I think no measure can produce so much mischief, as the circulation
of a depreciated changeable currency. Let all our debts be placed on the
footing of bank stock, and made transferable only at the treasury; or
let the present evidences of it be called in, and new notes issued,
payable only to the creditor or original holder; or let the securities
be purchased at their current discount, let some method be adopted to
draw them from circulation; for they destroy public and private
confidence; they cut the sinews of industry; they operate like a slow
poison, dissolving the _stamina_ of government, moral principles.
No paper should circulate in a commercial country, which is not a
representativ of ready cash; it must at least command punctual interest,
and security of the principal when demanded. Without these requisits,
all notes will certainly depreciate. Most of our public securities want
all the requisits of a paper currency. But if they did not; if they
were equal in value to bank notes or specie, still the sums are much too
large for a circulating medium in America. The amount of the continental
and State certificates, with the emissions of paper by particular
States, cannot be less than seventy millions of dollars, which is seven
times the sum necessary for a circulation.
Were they equal in value to gold and silver, the whole medium would
depreciate, specie as well as paper. But as they want every requisit of
a paper currency, the whole depreciation falls upon the securities.
An alarming consequence of the State of our public debt remains to be
considered. Want of confidence in the public, added to the vast quantity
of paper, has sunk it to a third, sixth, or eighth part of its nominal
value. Most of the creditors of the public have parted with their
securities at a great discount, and are thus robbed of the monies which
they earned by the sweat of the brow. Men of property have purchased
them for a trifle, and in some States receive the interest in specie. In
Massachusetts, this is the case with respect to some part of the State
debt. When a man buys a note of twenty shillings value for five, and
receives the interest, six per cent. in specie, he in fact receives
twenty four per cent. on his money.
This is one source of the insurrection in Massachusetts. The people feel
the injustice of paying such an interest to men who earned but a small
part of it, and whose sole merit is, that they have more money than
their fellow citizens who suffer the loss by depreciation. Those men in
particular, who fought for our independence, or loaned their property to
save the country, view with indignant resentment, that law which obliges
them to pay twenty four per cent. interest on the securities, which they
have sold for a fourth, or an eighth part of their honest demands.
This cannot justify the violent steps taken by the people; because
petitions, and united firmness in a constitutional way, would have
procured redress. But I state the facts to shew the effects of
speculation, or rather, of the want of faith in public engagements.
Such are the consequences of a variable medium; neglect to industry;
application to irregular commerce; relaxation of principles in social
intercourse; distrust of individuals; loss of confidence in the public,
and of respect for laws; innumerable acts of injustice between man and
man, and between the State and the subject; popular uneasiness, murmurs
and insurrections. And such effects will exist till their cause shall be
removed. Not the creation of a Supreme Power over the United States, is
an object of more importance, than the annihilation of every species of
fluctuating currency.
That instability of law, to which republics are prone, is another source
of corruption. Multiplication and changes of law have a great effect in
weakening the force of government, by preventing or destroying habits.
Law acquires force by a steady operation, and government acquires
dignity and respect, in proportion to the uniformity of its proceedings.
Necessity perhaps has made our federal and provincial governments
frequently shift their measures, and the unforeseen or unavoidable
variations of public securities, with the impossibility of commanding
the resources of the continent, to fulfil engagements, all predict a
continuation of the evil. But the whole wisdom of Legislatures should be
exerted to devise a system of measures which may preclude the necessity
of changes that tend to bring government into contempt.
A mild or lax execution of law may also have a bad effect in lessening
the respect for its officers. In a monarchy, there is no reasoning with
the executive; the will of the prince inspires terror. In our
governments, the officers are often familiar, and will even delay
justice as long as possible to assist the prisoner.
In some of the eastern States, the frequency and mildness of laws, have
introduced very singular habits. The people of Connecticut respect the
laws as much as any people; they would not be guilty of disobedience;
they mean generally to pay their debts, but are not very anxious to be
punctual. They suppose a creditor can wait for his money longer than the
period when it is due, and think it hard if he will not.[38]
[38] These remarks are not applicable to the mercantile part
of the people, who, since the revolution, have been
distinguished by their punctuality.
This mild execution of law, and a consequential habit of dilatoriness,
which arise from the spirit of equality, are still prevalent amongst the
body of the people. These gave rise to the late incorporation of several
commercial towns, with large powers; an expedient which has answered the
purpose of giving to commerce the advantage of energy and dispatch in
the collection of debts. As most of the business is done in the cities,
this effect will gradually extend itself, and form different habits.
The great misfortune of the multiplicity of laws and frequency of
litigation, is, that they weaken a respect for the executiv authority,
destroy the principle of honor, and transfer the disgrace, which ought
to follow delinquency in payment, from a man's reputation, to the
administration of justice. The lawyers and courts are impeached, when
the whole blame ought to fall upon the debtor for his impunctuality.
Honor, a substitute for honesty, has more influence upon men than law;
for in the one case, a man's character is at stake, and in the other,
his property. When a man's character suffers not, by a failure of
engagements, and by a public prosecution, the collection of debts must
be slow. But when a man's reputation is suspended on the punctual
discharge of his contracts, he will spare no pains to do it; and this is
or ought to be the case in all commercial countries.
Extensiv credit, in a popular government, is always pernicious, and may
be fatal. When the people are deeply or generally involved, they have
power and strong temptations to introduce an abolition of debts; an
agrarian law, or that modern refinement on the Roman plan, which is a
substitute for both, a paper currency, issued on depreciating
principles. Rhode Island is a melancholy proof of this truth, and New
Hampshire narrowly escaped the deplorable evils. In governments like
ours, it is policy to make it the interest of people to be honest. In
short, the whole art of governing consists in binding each individual by
his particular interest, to promote the aggregate interest of the
community.
Massachusetts affords a striking example of the danger incurred by too
many private debts. During the war the operation of justice was
necessarily suspended, and debts were constantly multiplying and
accumulating. When law came to be rigorously enforced, the people were
distressed beyond measure, particularly in the western counties, where
people are poorer than in the parts of the State better settled, and
nearer to market. These private debts crowded hard, and operated with
the demands of the federal creditors, to push the people into violent
measures.
The planters in Virginia owe immense sums of money to the British
merchants. What is the consequence? a law, suspending the collection of
British debts. The loss of their slaves is the ostensible excuse for
this law; but a more solid reason must be, the utter impossibility of
immediately discharging the debts. In our governments the men who owe
the money, make the laws; and a general embarrassment of circumstances
is too strong a temptation to evade or suspend the performance of
justice. For this reason, the wisdom of the Legislature might cooperate
with the interest of the merchant, to check a general credit. In some
cases it might be safe and wise to withdraw the protection of law from
debts of certain descriptions. It is an excellent law in one State,
which ordains, that no tavern debt, of more than two days standing,
shall be recoverable by law. It prevents tavern haunting and its
consequences, idleness, drunkenness and quarrels. Perhaps laws of this
kind have the best effect in introducing punctual payments. Their first
effect is to prevent credit; but they gradually change a man's regard
for his property, to a more activ and efficient principle, an attention
to his character.
In the present anarchy in Massachusetts, monied men get credit with the
merchant, and are punctual to fulfil engagements, as they are sensible
that the merchant relies solely on their honor. The certain ultimate
tendency of withdrawing the protection of law from particular kinds of
debts, is to discourage tricks and evasions, and introduce habits of
punctuality in commerce.
The present state of our public credit hath the same effect. Repeated
violations of public faith, the circulation of a variable medium of
trade, the contempt of law, the perpetual fear of new legislativ schemes
for discharging our debts, and of tender laws, have made men very
cautious in giving credit, and when they do give it, they depend more on
the honor of a man than on any security derived from law. This one happy
effect of want of confidence in the public, is some small consolation
for an infinite variety of political evils and distresses.
Laws to prevent credit would be beneficial to poor people. With respect
to the contraction of debts, people at large, in some measure, resemble
children; they are not judges even of their own interest. They
anticipate their incomes, and very often, by miscalculation, much more
than their incomes. But this is not the worst effect; an easy credit
throws them off their guard in their expenses. In general we observe
that a slow, laborious acquisition of property, creates a caution in
expenditures, and gradually forms the miser. On the other hand, a sudden
acquisition of money, either by gambling, lotteries, privateering, or
marriage, has a tendency to open the heart, or throw the man off his
guard, and thus makes him prodigal in his expenses. Perhaps this is ever
the case, except when a penurious habit has been previously formed.
An easy and extensiv credit has a similar effect. When people can
possess themselves of property without previous labor, they consume it
with improvident liberality. A prudent man will not; but a large
proportion of mankind have not prudence and fortitude enough to resist
the demands of pride and appetite. Thus they often riot on other men's
property, which they would not labor to procure. They form habits of
indolence and extravagance, which ruin their families, and impoverish
their creditors.
Another effect of extensiv credit, is a multitude of lawyers. Every
thing which tends to create disputes, to multiply debts, weaken a regard
to commercial engagements, and place the collection of debts on law,
rather than on honour, increases the encouragement of lawyers. The
profession of law is honorable, and the professors, I scruple not to
aver, as liberal, honest and respectable, as any class of men in the
State. But their business must be considered as a public evil, except in
the drafting of legal instruments, and in some real important disputes.
Such is the habit of trusting to law, for the recovery of debts, that,
in some of the eastern States, one half or two thirds of the lawyers are
mere collectors. They bring forward suits for small debts, that are not
disputed; they recover judgement upon default, they take out executions,
and live upon their fees.
The evil is not so great in the middle States; but it is great in all
the States. Never was there such a rage for the study of law. From one
end of the continent to the other, the students of this science are
multiplying without number. An infallible proof that the business is
lucrativ.
The insurgents in Massachusetts enumerate lawyers among their
grievances. They wish the Legislature to limit their number and their
demands. Short sighted mortals! They seem not to consider that lawyers
grow out of their own follies, and that the only radical remedy for the
evil is, to contract no more debts than they can pay, with strict
punctuality.
The number of professional men in a State should be as few as possible;
for they do not increase the property of the State, but liv on the
property acquired by others.
There is little danger that the number of clergymen will be too great.
In a few instances, religious parties may have multiplied their teachers
to too great a number, and perhaps in some parts of the country, a few
more ministers of the gospel would be very useful.
Physicians will multiply in proportion to the luxuries and idleness of
men. They cannot be limited by law, for people will be as intemperate
and as lazy as they please.
But an artful Legislature will take away some of the causes of
litigation, and thus curtail the number of lawyers. We may always
determin the degree of corruption, in commercial habits, by the number
of civil suits in the courts of law. The multiplication of lawyers is a
proof of private embarrassments in any State; it is a convincing proof
that in America these embarrassments are numberless. The evil is of such
magnitude in _some_ States, as to suspend the operation of law, and in
_all_ it produces distrust among men, renders property unsafe, and
perplexes our mutual intercourse. In this situation, with popular
governments, and an unbounded rage for magnificent living, perhaps the
only effectual remedy for a multitude of public evils, is the
restraining of credit. It might even be useful to destroy all credit on
the security of law, except debts of certain descriptions, where
mortgages might be given. This would not check business, but it would
oblige people to exercise a principle of honor, and to have recourse to
industry, and ready payment for articles which their necessities or
their fancies require. We should then be better able to determin,
whether bucks and bloods, in high life, "who roll the thundering chariot
o'er the ground," are sporting with their own property, or that of
honest creditors.
I cannot close these remarks without observing how much this country
owes to particular classes of people for the practice of the commercial
virtues. To the Friends, the Germans and the Dutch, this country is
indebted for that industry and provident economy, which enables them to
subsist without anxiety, and to be honest and punctual, without
embarrassment.
Happy would it be for this country, if these virtues were more generally
practised. Paper money and foreign credit are mere temporary expedients
to keep up the _appearance of wealth_ and splendor; but they are
miserable substitutes for solid property. The only way to become rich at
home and respectable abroad, is to become industrious, and to throw off
our slavish dependence on foreign manners, which obliges us to sacrifice
our opinions, our taste, and our interest, to the policy and
aggrandizement of other nations.
No. VIII.