Translated by Henry Reeve
In the eleven years
that separated the Declaration
of the Independence
of the United States
from the completion
of that act
in the ordination
of our written Constitution,
the great minds of America
were bent
upon the study
of the principles
of government
that were essential
to the preservation
of the liberties
which had been won
at great cost and with heroic
labors and sacrifices.
Their studies
were conducted in view
of the imperfections
that experience
had developed
in the government
of the Confederation,
and they were,
therefore,
practical and thorough.
When the Constitution
was thus
perfected
and established,
a new form
of government was created,
but it
was neither speculative nor
experimental
as
to the principles
on which it was based.
If they were true principles,
as they were,
the government
founded upon them
was destined
to a life
and an influence
that
would continue
while the liberties it
was intended
to preserve should be valued
by the human family.
Those liberties
had been wrung
from reluctant monarchs
in many contests,
in many countries,
and were grouped into creeds
and established in ordinances
sealed with blood,
in many great struggles
of the people.
They
were not new
to the people.
They were consecrated
theories,
but no government
had been previously established
for the great purpose
of their preservation
and enforcement.
That
which was experimental
in our plan
of government
was the question
whether democratic rule
could be
so organized and conducted
that
it would not degenerate
into license
and result in the tyranny
of absolutism,
without saving
to the people the power
so often found necessary
of repressing
or destroying their enemy,
when he
was found
in the person
of a single despot.
When,
in 1831,
Alexis de
Tocqueville came
to study Democracy in America,
the trial of nearly
a half-century of the working
of our system
had been made,
and it
had been proved,
by many crucial tests,
to be a government of
"liberty
regulated by law,"
with such
results in
the development of strength,
in population,
wealth,
and military
and commercial power,
as no age
had ever witnessed.
De Tocqueville
had a special inquiry
to prosecute,
in his visit to America,
in which
his generous and faithful soul
and the powers
of his great intellect
were engaged
in the patriotic effort
to secure
to the people of France
the blessings
that Democracy in America
had ordained and established
throughout nearly
the entire Western Hemisphere.
He had read the story
of the French Revolution,
much of which
had been recently written
in the blood
of men and women
of great
distinction
who were his progenitors;
and had witnessed
the agitations
and terrors
of the Restoration
and of the Second Republic,
fruitful
in crime and sacrifice,
and barren
of any good to mankind.
He had just witnessed
the spread
of republican government
through all
the vast continental possessions
of Spain in America,
and the loss
of her great colonies.
He had seen that
these revolutions
were accomplished almost
without the shedding
of blood,
and he was filled
with anxiety
to learn the causes
that had placed
republican government,
in France,
in such contrast
with Democracy in America.
De Tocqueville
was scarcely thirty years old
when he
began his studies
of Democracy in America.
It was a bold effort
for one who
had no special
training in government,
or in the study
of political economy,
but he
had the example of Lafayette
in establishing
the military foundation
of these liberties,
and of Washington,
Jefferson,
Madison,
and Hamilton,
all of whom were young men,
in building
upon the Independence
of the United States
that wisest and best plan
of general government
that was ever devised
for a free people.
He found
that the American people,
through their chosen
representatives
who were instructed
by their wisdom
and experience
and were supported
by their virtues
-- cultivated,
purified and ennobled
by self-reliance
and the love of God --
had matured,
in the excellent wisdom
of their counsels,
a new plan of government,
which embraced every security
for their liberties
and equal rights
and privileges
to all
in the pursuit of happiness.
He came
as
an
honest and impartial student
and his great commentary,
like those of Paul,
was written
for the benefit
of all nations and people and
in vindication
of truths
that will stand for
their deliverance
from monarchical rule,
while time shall last.
A French aristocrat
of the purest strain
of blood
and of the most honorable lineage,
whose family influence
was coveted by crowned heads;
who had no quarrel
with the rulers
of the nation,
and was secure against want
by his inherited estates;
was moved by the agitations
that compelled France
to attempt
to grasp suddenly
the liberties and happiness
we had gained
in our revolution and,
by his devout love
of France,
to search
out and
subject to
the test
of reason the basic principles
of free
government
that had been embodied
in our Constitution.
This
was the mission
of De Tocqueville,
and no mission
was ever more honorably
or justly conducted,
or concluded
with greater eclat,
or better results
for the welfare of mankind.
His researches
were logical and exhaustive.
They included every phase
of every question
that then seemed
to be apposite
to the great inquiry
he was making.
The judgment of all
who have studied
his commentaries
seems to have been unanimous,
that his talents and learning
were fully
equal to his task.
He began
with the physical geography
of this country,
and examined
the characteristics
of the people,
of all races and conditions,
their social
and religious sentiments,
their education and tastes;
their industries,
their commerce,
their local governments,
their passions and prejudices,
and their ethics
and literature;
leaving nothing
unnoticed
that might afford an argument
to prove
that our plan and form
of government
was
or was not adapted especially
to a peculiar people,
or that
it would be
impracticable
in any different country,
or among any different people.
The pride
and comfort
that the American people
enjoy
in the great commentaries
of De Tocqueville
are far removed
from the selfish adulation
that comes
from a great
and singular success.
It is the consciousness
of victory
over a false theory
of government
which has afflicted mankind
for many ages,
that
gives joy
to the true American,
as it
did to De Tocqueville
in his great triumph.
When De Tocqueville wrote,
we had lived
less than fifty years
under our Constitution.
In that time
no great national commotion
had occurred
that tested its strength,
or its power
of resistance to internal strife,
such as
had converted
his beloved France
into fields of slaughter
torn by tempests of wrath.
He had a strong conviction
that no government
could be ordained
that could resist these
internal forces,
when,
they
are directed
to its destruction
by bad men,
or unreasoning mobs,
and many
then believed,
as some
yet believe,
that
our government is unequal
to such pressure,
when the assault
is thoroughly desperate.
Had De Tocqueville
lived
to examine the history
of the United States
from 1860 to 1870,
his misgivings
as to this power
of self-preservation
would,
probably,
have been cleared off.
He would have seen that,
at the end
of the most destructive civil war
that ever occurred,
when animosities
of the bitterest sort
had banished all good feeling
from the hearts
of our people,
the States
of the American Union,
still in complete organization
and equipped
with all
their official entourage,
aligned themselves
in their places
and took up
the powers and duties of local government
in perfect order and
without embarrassment.
This
would have dispelled
his apprehensions,
if he
had any,
about the power
of the United States
to withstand
the severest shocks
of civil war.
Could
he have traced
the further course
of events until
they open the portals
of the twentieth century,
he would have cast away
his fears
of our ability
to restore peace,
order,
and prosperity,
in the face
of any difficulties,
and would have rejoiced
to find
in the Constitution
of the United States
the remedy
that is provided
for the healing
of the nation.
De Tocqueville
examined,
with the care
that is
worthy
the importance of the subject,
the nature
and value
of the system
of "local self-government,"
as we style this
most important feature
of our plan,
and (
as has often happened)
when
this or any subject
has become
a matter
of anxious concern,
his treatment of the questions
is found
to have been masterly
and his preconceptions
almost prophetic.
We are frequently indebted
to him
for able expositions
and true doctrines
relating to subjects
that have slumbered
in the minds
of the people
until they
were suddenly forced
on our attention
by unexpected events.
In his introductory chapter,
M. De Tocqueville says:
"Amongst the novel objects
that attracted my attention
during my stay in
the United States,
nothing
struck me more forcibly
than the general equality
of conditions."
He referred,
doubtless,
to social
and political conditions
among the people
of the white race,
who are described as
"We,
the people,"
in the opening sentence
of the Constitution.
The last three amendments
of the Constitution
have so changed this,
that
those
who were then negro
slaves are clothed
with the rights
of citizenship,
including the right
of suffrage.
This
was
a political party movement,
intended
to be radical
and revolutionary,
but it will,
ultimately,
react because
it has not the sanction
of public opinion.
If M.
De Tocqueville
could now search for a law
that would negative this
provision
in its effect
upon social equality,
he would fail to find it.
But he
would find it
in the unwritten law
of the natural aversion
of the races.
He would find it
in public opinion,
which is the vital force in
every law
in a free government.
This
is a subject
that our Constitution
failed
to regulate,
because
it was not contemplated
by its authors.
It is a question
that will settle itself,
without serious difficulty.
The equality in the suffrage,
thus guaranteed
to the negro race,
alone
-- for it
was not intended
to include
other colored races --
creates
a new phase of political
conditions that M.
De Tocqueville could not foresee.
Yet,
in his commendation
of the local town
and county governments,
he applauds
and sustains
that elementary feature
of our political
organization which,
in the end,
will render
harmless this wide departure
from the original plan
and purpose
of American Democracy.
"Local Self-Government,"
independent of general control,
except for general purposes,
is the root and origin
of all free republican government,
and is the antagonist
of all great political
combinations
that threaten the rights
of minorities.
It
is
the public opinion formed
in the independent expressions
of towns and
other small civil districts
that is the real conservatism
of free government.
It is equally the enemy of
that dangerous evil,
the corruption
of the ballot-box,
from which
it is now apprehended
that
one of our greatest troubles
is to arise.
The voter
is selected,
under our laws,
because
he has
certain physical qualifications
-- age and sex.
His disqualifications,
when any are imposed,
relate
to his education or property,
and to the fact
that he
has not been convicted
of crime.
Of all men he
should be most directly amenable
to public opinion.
The test
of moral character
and devotion
to the duties
of good citizenship
are ignored in the laws,
because
the courts
can seldom deal with such
questions in a uniform
and satisfactory way,
under rules
that apply alike to all.
Thus the voter,
selected by law
to represent himself
and
four other non-voting citizens,
is often
a person
who is unfit
for any public duty
or trust.
In a town government,
having a small area
of jurisdiction,
where the voice
of the majority of qualified
voters is conclusive,
the fitness of the person
who is to exercise
that high representative privilege
can be determined
by his neighbors
and acquaintances,
and,
in the great majority
of cases,
it will be decided honestly
and
for the good
of the country.
In such meetings,
there
is always a spirit of loyalty
to the State,
because that is loyalty
to the people,
and a reverence for God
that gives weight
to the duties
and responsibilities
of citizenship.
M. De Tocqueville
found
in these minor
local jurisdictions
the theoretical conservatism which,
in the aggregate,
is the safest reliance
of the State.
So we
have found them,
in practice,
the true protectors
of the purity
of the ballot,
without which all free
government
will degenerate
into absolutism.
In the future
of the Republic,
we must encounter
many difficult
and dangerous situations,
but the principles established
in the Constitution
and the check
upon hasty
or inconsiderate legislation,
and upon executive action,
and the supreme arbitrament
of the courts,
will be found sufficient
for the safety
of personal rights,
and for the safety
of the government,
and the prophetic outlook
of M.
De Tocqueville
will be fully realized
through the influence
of Democracy in America.
Each succeeding generation
of Americans
will find
in the
pure and impartial
reflections
of De Tocqueville
a new source
of pride
in our institutions
of government,
and sound reasons
for patriotic
effort to preserve them
and
to inculcate their teachings.
They have mastered the power
of monarchical rule
in the American Hemisphere,
freeing religion
from all shackles,
and will spread,
by a quiet
but resistless influence,
through the islands
of the seas
to other lands,
where the appeals
of De Tocqueville
for human rights
and liberties
have already inspired
the souls
of the people.
Hon. John T. Morgan.
Nearly two-thirds
of a century
has elapsed
since the appearance of
"Democracy in America,"
by Alexis Charles Henri Clerel
de Tocqueville,
a French nobleman,
born at Paris,
July 29, 1805.
Bred to the law,
he exhibited
an early predilection
for philosophy
and political economy,
and at twenty-two
was appointed judge-auditor
at the tribunal
of Versailles.
In 1831,
commissioned ostensibly
to investigate
the penitentiary system
of the United States,
he visited this country,
with his friend,
Gustave de Beaumont,
travelling extensively
through those parts
of the Republic
then subdued
to settlement,
studying the methods of local,
State,
and national administration,
and observing the manners
and habits,
the daily life,
the business,
the industries and occupations
of the people.
"Democracy in America,"
the first
of four volumes upon
"American Institutions and their Influence,"
was published in 1835.
It was received at
once by the scholars
and thinkers
of Europe as a profound,
impartial,
and entertaining exposition
of the principles of popular,
representative self-government.
Napoleon,
"The mighty somnambulist
of a vanished
dream,"
had abolished feudalism
and absolutism,
made monarchs
and dynasties obsolete,
and substituted
for the divine right
of kings
the sovereignty
of the people.
Although
by birth and sympathies
an aristocrat,
M. de
Tocqueville
saw that the reign
of tradition and privilege
at last
was ended.
He perceived
that civilization,
after many bloody centuries,
had entered a new epoch.
He beheld,
and deplored,
the excesses
that had attended the genesis
of the democratic spirit
in France,
and while he
loved liberty,
he detested the crimes
that had been committed
in its name.
Belonging neither to the class
which regarded
the social revolution
as an innovation
to be resisted,
nor to that
which considered
political equality
the universal panacea
for the evils
of humanity,
he resolved
by personal observation
of the results
of democracy
in the New World to
ascertain
its natural consequences,
and to learn what the nations
of Europe
had to hope or fear
from its final supremacy.
That a youth of twenty-six
should entertain a design
so broad and bold
implies singular
intellectual intrepidity.
He had
neither model nor precedent.
The vastness and novelty
of the
undertaking increase
admiration
for the remarkable ability
with which the task
was performed.
Were
literary excellence the sole claim
of
"Democracy in America"
to distinction,
the splendor
of its composition alone
would entitle it
to high place
among the masterpieces
of the century.
The first chapter,
upon the exterior form
of North America,
as the theatre upon which
the great drama
is to be enacted,
for graphic
and picturesque description
of the physical characteristics
of the continent
is not surpassed
in literature:
nor is there any subdivision
of the work in which
the severest philosophy
is not invested
with the grace of poetry,
and the driest statistics
with the charm of romance.
Western emigration
seemed commonplace
and prosaic
till M. de Tocqueville said,
"This gradual
and continuous progress
of the European race
toward the Rocky Mountains
has the solemnity
of a providential event;
it is
like a deluge
of men rising unabatedly,
and daily
driven onward
by the hand of God!"
The mind
of M. de
Tocqueville had the candor
of the photographic camera.
It recorded impressions
with the impartiality
of nature.
The image
was sometimes distorted,
and the perspective
was not always true,
but he
was neither a panegyrist,
nor an advocate,
nor a critic.
He observed
American phenomena as
illustrations,
not as proof nor arguments;
and although it
is apparent
that
the tendency of his mind
was not wholly favorable
to the democratic principle,
yet those who
dissent from his conclusions
must commend
the ability and courage
with which they
are expressed.
Though not originally written
for Americans,
"Democracy in America"
must always remain a work
of engrossing
and
constantly increasing interest
to citizens
of the United States
as
the first philosophic
and comprehensive view
of our society,
institutions,
and destiny.
No one
can rise
even from the most cursory perusal
without clearer insight
and
more patriotic appreciation
of the blessings
of liberty protected by law,
nor without encouragement
for the stability
and perpetuity
of the Republic.
The causes
which appeared to M.
de Tocqueville
to menace both,
have gone.
The despotism
of public opinion,
the tyranny of majorities,
the absence
of intellectual freedom which
seemed to him
to degrade administration
and bring statesmanship,
learning,
and literature
to the level
of the lowest,
are no longer considered.
The violence of party spirit
has been mitigated,
and the judgment of the wise
is not subordinated
to the prejudices
of the ignorant.
Other dangers have come.
Equality of conditions
no longer
exists.
Prophets of evil
predict the downfall
of democracy,
but the student of M. de
Tocqueville
will find consolation
and encouragement
in the reflection
that
the same spirit
which has vanquished
the perils
of the past,
which he foresaw,
will be equally prepared
for the responsibilities
of the present
and the future.
The last
of the four volumes
of M. de
Tocqueville's work
upon American institutions
appeared in 1840.
In 1838
he was chosen member
of the Academy of Moral
and Political Sciences.
In 1839
he was elected
to the Chamber of Deputies.
He became a member
of the French Academy
in 1841.
In 1848
he was in the Assembly,
and from June 2nd
to October 31st
he was Minister
of Foreign Affairs.
The coup
d'etat of December 2, 1851
drove him
from the public service.
In 1856
he published
"The Old Regime and the Revolution."
He died at Cannes,
April 15, 1859,
at the age
of fifty-four.
Hon. John J. Ingalls
Amongst the novel objects
that attracted my attention
during my stay in
the United States,
nothing
struck me more forcibly
than the general equality
of conditions.
I readily discovered
the prodigious influence which this
primary fact exercises
on the whole course
of society,
by giving
a certain direction
to public opinion,
and a certain tenor
to the laws;
by imparting
new maxims
to the governing powers,
and peculiar habits to the
governed.
I speedily perceived that
the influence of this fact
extends far
beyond the political character
and
the laws of the country,
and that it
has no less empire
over civil society
than
over the Government;
it creates opinions,
engenders sentiments,
suggests
the ordinary practices
of life,
and modifies whatever
it does not produce.
The more
I advanced
in the study
of American society,
the more
I perceived
that the equality
of conditions
is the fundamental fact
from which all
others seem to be derived,
and
the central point at which
all my observations
constantly terminated.
I then turned my thoughts
to our own hemisphere,
where I imagined that
I discerned something analogous
to the spectacle which
the New World
presented to me.
I observed that
the equality of conditions
is daily progressing
towards those
extreme limits which
it seems
to have reached
in the United States,
and that the democracy
which governs
the American communities
appears
to be rapidly rising
into power in Europe.
I hence conceived
the idea of the book
which is now
before the reader.
It is evident to all alike
that
a great democratic revolution
is going on amongst us;
but there are two opinions as
to its nature
and consequences.
To some it appears
to be a novel accident,
which as such
may still be checked;
to others
it seems irresistible,
because
it is the most uniform,
the most ancient,
and
the most permanent tendency
which is
to be found
in history.
Let us recollect the situation
of France seven hundred years ago,
when
the territory
was divided
amongst a small number
of families,
who were
the owners
of the soil and
the rulers of the inhabitants;
the right
of governing
descended
with the family inheritance
from generation to generation;
force
was
the only means by which man
could act on man,
and landed property
was the sole source
of power.
Soon,
however,
the political power
of the clergy was founded,
and began to exert itself:
the clergy
opened its ranks
to all classes,
to the poor and the rich,
the villein and the lord;
equality
penetrated
into the Government
through the Church,
and the being who as a serf
must have vegetated
in perpetual bondage
took
his place as a priest
in the midst of nobles,
and not
infrequently above
the heads
of kings.
The different relations of men
became more
complicated and
more numerous as society
gradually became
more stable and more civilized.
Thence the want of civil
laws was felt;
and the order of legal
functionaries
soon rose
from the obscurity
of the tribunals
and their dusty chambers,
to appear
at the court of the monarch,
by the side
of the feudal barons
in their ermine
and their mail.
Whilst the kings were
ruining themselves
by their great enterprises,
and
the nobles exhausting
their resources
by private wars,
the lower
orders
were enriching themselves
by commerce.
The influence of money
began
to be perceptible
in State affairs.
The transactions of business
opened a new road
to power,
and the financier rose
to a station
of political influence
in which he
was at once flattered
and despised.
Gradually the spread
of mental acquirements,
and the increasing taste
for literature and art,
opened chances
of success to talent;
science
became a means of government,
intelligence
led to social power,
and the man of letters
took a part
in the affairs
of the State.
The value attached
to the privileges of birth
decreased
in the exact proportion in which
new paths
were struck out
to advancement.
In the eleventh century nobility
was beyond all price;
in the thirteenth
it might be purchased;
it was conferred
for the first time in 1270;
and equality
was thus
introduced
into the Government
by the aristocracy itself.
In the course of these
seven hundred years it
sometimes happened
that in order to
resist the authority
of the Crown,
or to diminish the power
of their rivals,
the nobles
granted a certain share
of political rights
to the people.
Or, more frequently,
the king
permitted
the lower
orders
to enjoy a degree of power,
with the intention
of repressing
the aristocracy.
In France the kings
have always been
the most active
and the most constant
of levellers.
When they
were strong and ambitious
they spared no pains
to raise the people
to the level
of the nobles;
when they
were temperate or weak
they allowed
the people
to rise above themselves.
Some
assisted
the democracy
by their talents,
others by their vices.
Louis XI and Louis XIV
reduced every rank
beneath the throne
to the same subjection;
Louis XV
descended,
himself and all his Court,
into the dust.
As soon as land
was held on any
other than a feudal tenure,
and personal property
began in its turn
to confer
influence and power,
every improvement
which was introduced
in commerce or manufacture
was a fresh element
of the equality
of conditions.
Henceforward
every new discovery,
every new want which it
engendered,
and every new desire
which craved satisfaction,
was a step
towards the universal level.
The taste for luxury,
the love of war,
the sway of fashion,
and the most superficial
as well as
the deepest passions
of the human heart,
co-operated
to enrich the poor and
to impoverish the rich.
From the time
when
the exercise of the intellect
became
the source
of strength and of wealth,
it is impossible
not to consider every addition
to science,
every fresh truth,
and every new idea
as a germ of power
placed
within the reach
of the people.
Poetry,
eloquence,
and memory,
the grace of wit,
the glow of imagination,
the depth of thought,
and all
the gifts
which are bestowed
by Providence
with an equal hand,
turned
to the advantage
of the democracy;
and even
when they
were in the possession
of its adversaries
they still served its cause
by throwing into relief
the natural greatness of man;
its conquests
spread,
therefore,
with those
of civilization and knowledge,
and literature
became
an arsenal
where the poorest
and the weakest
could always find weapons
to their hand.
In perusing
the pages of our history,
we shall scarcely meet
with a single great event,
in the lapse
of seven hundred years,
which has not turned
to the advantage of equality.
The Crusades
and the wars of the English
decimated
the nobles and divided
their possessions;
the erection of communities
introduced an element
of democratic liberty
into the bosom
of feudal monarchy;
the invention of fire-arms
equalized
the villein and the noble
on the field of battle;
printing
opened the same resources
to the minds
of all classes;
the post
was organized so as
to bring the same information
to the door
of the poor man's cottage
and to the gate
of the palace;
and Protestantism
proclaimed that all men
are alike able
to find the road to heaven.
The discovery of America
offered a thousand new paths
to fortune,
and placed riches
and power
within the reach
of the adventurous
and the obscure.
If we
examine
what has happened
in France at intervals
of fifty years,
beginning
with the eleventh century,
we shall invariably perceive
that
a twofold
revolution has taken place
in the state of society.
The noble
has gone down
on the social ladder,
and the roturier has gone up;
the one
descends as the other rises.
Every half century
brings them nearer
to each other,
and they
will very shortly meet.
Nor is
this phenomenon at all peculiar
to France.
Whithersoever we
turn our eyes
we shall witness
the same continual revolution
throughout the whole
of Christendom.
The various occurrences
of national existence
have everywhere turned
to the advantage of democracy;
all men
have aided it
by their exertions:
those
who have intentionally labored
in its cause,
and those
who have served it unwittingly;
those
who have fought
for it and those
who have declared themselves
its opponents,
have all been
driven along
in the same track,
have all labored to one end,
some ignorantly
and some unwillingly;
all have been blind instruments
in the hands
of God.
The gradual development
of the equality of conditions
is
therefore
a providential fact,
and it possesses all
the characteristics
of a divine decree:
it is universal,
it is durable,
it constantly eludes
all human interference,
and all events
as well as all men
contribute to its progress.
Would it,
then,
be wise
to imagine
that
a social impulse which dates
from
so far back
can be checked by the efforts
of a generation?
Is it credible
that the democracy
which has annihilated
the feudal system
and vanquished kings
will respect
the citizen
and the capitalist?
Will
it stop now
that it
has grown so strong
and its adversaries so weak?
None
can say which way
we are going,
for all terms of comparison
are wanting:
the equality of conditions
is more complete
in the Christian countries
of the present day than it
has been at any time or
in any part of the world;
so that the extent of
what already exists
prevents us from foreseeing what
may be yet
to come.
The whole book
which is here
offered to the public
has been written
under the impression
of a kind
of religious dread
produced
in the author's mind
by the contemplation
of so irresistible
a revolution,
which has advanced
for centuries
in spite of
such amazing obstacles,
and which
is still proceeding
in the midst
of the ruins it
has made.
It is not necessary
that God himself
should speak in order to
disclose to us
the unquestionable signs
of His will;
we can discern them
in the habitual course
of nature,
and in the invariable tendency
of events:
I know,
without a special revelation,
that the planets
move
in the orbits traced
by the Creator's finger.
If the men of our time
were led
by attentive observation and
by sincere reflection
to acknowledge that
the gradual
and progressive development
of social
equality
is at once the past
and future
of their history,
this solitary truth
would confer
the sacred character
of a Divine decree
upon the change.
To attempt to check democracy
would be
in that case
to resist the will of God;
and the nations
would then be constrained
to make the best
of the social lot awarded
to them by Providence.
The Christian nations
of our age
seem to me
to present
a most alarming spectacle;
the impulse
which is bearing them along
is so strong
that
it cannot be stopped,
but it
is not yet so rapid
that
it cannot be guided:
their fate
is in their hands;
yet a little while
and it
may be so no longer.
The first duty which
is at this time imposed
upon those
who direct our affairs
is
to educate the democracy;
to warm its faith,
if that
be possible;
to purify its morals;
to direct its energies;
to substitute a knowledge
of business
for its inexperience,
and an acquaintance
with its true interests
for its blind propensities;
to adapt its government
to time and place,
and to modify it
in compliance
with the occurrences and
the actors of the age.
A new science of politics
is indispensable
to a new world.
This,
however,
is what we
think of least;
launched
in the middle
of a rapid stream,
we obstinately fix
our eyes on the ruins
which may still be described
upon the shore
we have left,
whilst
the current sweeps us along,
and drives us backwards
towards the gulf.
In no country in Europe
has
the great social revolution which
I have been describing
made such rapid progress
as
in France;
but it
has always been
borne on by chance.
The heads
of the State
have never had any forethought
for its exigencies,
and its victories
have been obtained
without their consent
or without their knowledge.
The most powerful,
the most intelligent,
and the most moral classes
of the nation
have never attempted
to connect themselves with it
in order to guide it.
The people
has consequently been
abandoned
to its wild propensities,
and it
has grown up
like those outcasts
who receive their education
in the public streets,
and who
are unacquainted
with aught
but the vices and wretchedness
of society.
The existence of a democracy
was seemingly unknown,
when on a sudden it
took possession
of the supreme power.
Everything
was then submitted
to its caprices;
it
was worshipped
as the idol of strength;
until,
when it
was enfeebled
by its own excesses,
the legislator
conceived the rash project
of annihilating its power,
instead of instructing it
and correcting its vices;
no attempt was made
to fit it to govern,
but all
were bent
on excluding it
from the government.
The consequence of this
has been
that the democratic revolution
has been effected only
in the material parts
of society,
without
that concomitant change
in laws,
ideas,
customs,
and manners
which was necessary
to render
such a revolution beneficial.
We have gotten a democracy,
but
without the conditions which
lessen
its vices
and render
its natural advantages
more prominent;
and although
we already perceive the evils
it brings,
we are ignorant
of the benefits
it may confer.
While the power of the Crown,
supported by the aristocracy,
peaceably
governed the nations
of Europe,
society
possessed,
in the midst
of its wretchedness,
several
different advantages
which
can now scarcely be appreciated
or conceived.
The power
of a part
of his subjects
was an insurmountable barrier
to the tyranny
of the prince;
and the monarch,
who felt the
almost divine character which
he enjoyed
in the eyes
of the multitude,
derived
a motive for the
just use
of his power
from the respect which
he inspired.
High
as they
were placed above the people,
the nobles
could not
but take
that calm
and benevolent interest
in its fate which
the shepherd
feels towards his flock;
and without acknowledging
the poor as their equals,
they watched over the destiny
of those
whose welfare
Providence
had entrusted to their care.
The people
never having conceived
the idea
of a
social condition different
from its own,
and entertaining no expectation
of ever ranking
with its chiefs,
received benefits from them
without discussing
their rights.
It grew
attached to them
when they
were clement and just,
and it
submitted
without resistance or servility
to their exactions,
as
to the inevitable visitations
of the arm of God.
Custom,
and the manners
of the time,
had moreover created a species
of law
in the midst of violence,
and established
certain limits to oppression.
As the noble never suspected
that anyone
would attempt
to deprive him
of the privileges which
he believed to be legitimate,
and as the serf
looked
upon his own inferiority
as a consequence
of the immutable order
of nature,
it is easy to imagine
that
a mutual exchange
of good-will
took place
between two classes so differently
gifted
by fate.
Inequality
and wretchedness were then
to be found in society;
but the souls
of neither rank of men
were degraded.
Men are not corrupted
by the exercise
of power
or debased
by the habit of obedience,
but by the exercise
of a power which
they believe
to be illegal and
by obedience
to a rule which
they consider
to be usurped and oppressive.
On one side
was wealth,
strength,
and leisure,
accompanied
by the refinements of luxury,
the elegance of taste,
the pleasures of wit,
and the religion of art.
On the other
was labor
and a rude ignorance;
but in the midst of this
coarse and ignorant multitude
it was not uncommon
to meet with energetic passions,
generous sentiments,
profound
religious convictions,
and independent virtues.
The body
of a State
thus organized
might boast of its stability,
its power,
and, above all,
of its glory.
But the scene is now changed,
and gradually
the two ranks mingle;
the divisions
which once severed mankind
are lowered,
property
is divided,
power
is held in common,
the light
of intelligence spreads,
and the capacities
of all
classes
are equally cultivated;
the State
becomes democratic,
and the empire
of democracy is slowly
and peaceably introduced
into the institutions
and the manners
of the nation.
I can conceive
a society
in which all men
would profess
an equal attachment
and respect
for the laws
of which
they are the common authors;
in which the authority
of the State
would be respected
as necessary,
though not as divine;
and the loyalty
of the subject to
its chief magistrate
would not be a passion,
but a quiet and
rational persuasion.
Every individual
being
in the possession
of rights which
he is sure
to retain,
a kind
of manly reliance
and reciprocal courtesy
would arise
between all classes,
alike removed
from pride and meanness.
The people,
well acquainted
with its true interests,
would allow
that in order to profit
by the advantages of society
it is necessary
to satisfy its demands.
In this state
of things
the voluntary
association of the citizens
might supply
the individual exertions
of the nobles,
and the community
would be alike protected
from anarchy
and from oppression.
I admit that,
in a democratic
State thus constituted,
society
will not be stationary;
but the impulses
of the social body
may be regulated and directed
forwards;
if there be less splendor
than
in the halls
of an aristocracy,
the contrast of misery
will be less frequent also;
the pleasures of enjoyment
may be less excessive,
but those of comfort
will be more general;
the sciences
may be less perfectly cultivated,
but ignorance
will be less common;
the impetuosity
of the feelings
will be repressed,
and the habits of the nation
softened;
there
will be more vices
and fewer crimes.
In the absence
of enthusiasm
and of an ardent faith,
great sacrifices
may be obtained
from the members
of a commonwealth
by an appeal
to their understandings
and their experience;
each individual
will feel the same necessity
for uniting
with his fellow-citizens
to protect his own weakness;
and as he
knows that if they
are to assist
he must co-operate,
he will readily perceive
that his personal interest
is identified
with the interest
of the community.
The nation,
taken as a whole,
will be less brilliant,
less glorious,
and perhaps less strong;
but the majority
of the citizens
will enjoy a greater degree
of prosperity,
and the people
will remain quiet,
not because
it despairs of amelioration,
but because it
is conscious
of the advantages
of its condition.
If all
the consequences
of this state of things
were not good or useful,
society
would at least
have appropriated all such as
were useful and good;
and having once and for
ever renounced
the social advantages
of aristocracy,
mankind
would enter
into possession
of all the benefits
which democracy
can afford.
But here
it may be asked
what we
have adopted
in the place
of those institutions,
those ideas,
and those customs
of our forefathers which we
have abandoned.
The spell
of royalty is broken,
but it
has not been succeeded
by the majesty
of the laws;
the people
has learned
to despise all authority,
but fear
now extorts a larger tribute
of obedience than
that which
was formerly paid
by reverence and by love.
I perceive that we
have destroyed
those independent beings which
were able
to cope
with tyranny single-handed;
but it is the Government
that has inherited
the privileges
of which families,
corporations,
and individuals
have been deprived;
the weakness
of the whole community
has therefore
succeeded that influence
of a small body
of citizens,
which,
if it
was sometimes oppressive,
was often conservative.
The division of property
has lessened
the distance
which separated the rich
from the poor;
but it would seem
that the nearer
they draw to each other,
the greater
is their mutual hatred,
and the more vehement
the envy and the dread
with which they
resist each other's claims
to power;
the notion of Right
is alike insensible
to both classes,
and Force affords to both
the only argument
for the present,
and the
only guarantee
for the future.
The poor man
retains the prejudices
of his forefathers
without their faith,
and their ignorance
without their virtues;
he has adopted
the doctrine of self-interest
as the rule of his actions,
without understanding
the science which controls it,
and his egotism
is no less
blind than his devotedness
was formerly.
If society
is tranquil,
it is not
because it
relies
upon its strength
and its well-being,
but because
it knows its weakness
and its infirmities;
a single effort
may cost it its life;
everybody
feels the evil,
but no one
has courage or energy enough
to seek the cure;
the desires,
the regret,
the sorrows,
and
the joys of the time produce nothing
that is visible or permanent,
like the passions
of old men which
terminate in impotence.
We have,
then,
abandoned
whatever advantages
the old state
of things afforded,
without receiving
any compensation
from our present condition;
we have destroyed
an aristocracy,
and we seem
inclined
to survey its ruins
with complacency,
and to fix our abode
in the midst of them.
The phenomena which
the intellectual world presents
are not less deplorable.
The democracy of France,
checked in its course
or abandoned
to its lawless passions,
has overthrown
whatever crossed its path,
and has shaken
all
that it has not destroyed.
Its empire on society
has not been gradually introduced
or peaceably established,
but it
has constantly advanced
in the midst
of disorder and
the agitation of a conflict.
In the heat
of the struggle each partisan
is hurried
beyond the limits
of his opinions
by the opinions
and
the excesses of his opponents,
until he
loses sight of the end
of his exertions,
and holds
a language
which disguises
his real sentiments
or secret instincts.
Hence
arises
the strange confusion
which we are witnessing.
I cannot recall
to my mind a passage
in history more worthy
of sorrow and of pity
than the scenes
which are happening
under our eyes;
it is
as if the natural bond which
unites the opinions of man
to his tastes and
his actions to his principles
was now broken;
the sympathy
which has always been
acknowledged
between the feelings and
the ideas of mankind
appears
to be dissolved,
and all
the laws of moral
analogy
to be dissolved,
and all
the laws of moral
analogy
to be abolished.
Zealous Christians
may be found amongst us
whose minds
are nurtured
in the love and knowledge
of a future life,
and who
readily espouse
the cause
of human liberty
as the source
of all moral greatness.
Christianity,
which has declared
that all men
are equal in the sight
of God,
will not refuse
to acknowledge that
all citizens
are equal in the eye
of the law.
But,
by a singular concourse
of events,
religion
is entangled
in those
institutions which democracy
assails,
and it
is not unfrequently brought
to reject the equality
it loves,
and to curse
that cause
of liberty as a foe which
it might hallow
by its alliance.
By the side of these
religious men
I discern
others
whose looks
are turned
to the earth more than
to Heaven;
they are the partisans
of liberty,
not only as the source
of the noblest virtues,
but more especially
as the root
of all solid advantages;
and they sincerely desire
to extend its sway,
and to impart its blessings
to mankind.
It is natural
that
they should hasten
to invoke the assistance
of religion,
for they
must know that liberty
cannot be established
without morality,
nor morality without faith;
but they
have seen religion
in the ranks
of their adversaries,
and they
inquire
no further;
some of them attack it openly,
and the remainder
are afraid
to defend it.
In former ages slavery
has been advocated
by the venal and slavish-minded,
whilst the independent
and the warm-hearted
were struggling without hope
to save the liberties
of mankind.
But men of high
and generous characters
are now to be met with,
whose opinions
are at variance
with their inclinations,
and who
praise that servility
which they
have themselves never known.
Others,
on the contrary,
speak in the name
of liberty,
as if they
were able
to feel its sanctity
and its majesty,
and loudly claim for humanity
those rights which they
have always disowned.
There
are virtuous
and peaceful individuals
whose pure morality,
quiet habits,
affluence,
and talents
fit them
to be
the leaders
of the surrounding population;
their love of their country
is sincere,
and they are prepared
to make
the greatest sacrifices
to its welfare,
but they
confound the abuses
of civilization
with its benefits,
and the idea of evil
is inseparable
in their minds from
that of novelty.
Not far from this class
is another party,
whose object
is to materialize mankind,
to hit upon what
is expedient without heeding what
is just,
to acquire knowledge
without faith,
and prosperity
apart from virtue;
assuming the title
of the champions
of modern civilization,
and placing themselves
in a station which
they usurp with insolence,
and from which
they are driven
by their own unworthiness.
Where are we then?
The religionists
are the enemies of liberty,
and the friends
of liberty attack religion;
the high-minded
and the noble advocate
subjection,
and the meanest and most servile
minds
preach independence;
honest
and enlightened citizens
are opposed to all progress,
whilst men
without patriotism
and without principles
are the apostles
of civilization
and of intelligence.
Has such
been
the fate of the centuries
which
have preceded our own?
and has man
always inhabited
a world like the present,
where nothing
is linked together,
where virtue
is without genius,
and genius without honor;
where
the love of order
is confounded
with a taste for oppression,
and the holy rites
of freedom
with a contempt of law;
where the light
thrown by conscience on human
actions is dim,
and where nothing
seems
to be any longer forbidden
or allowed,
honorable or shameful,
false or true?
I cannot,
however,
believe that the Creator
made man
to leave him
in an endless struggle
with the
intellectual miseries which
surround us:
God destines
a calmer
and a more certain future
to the communities
of Europe;
I am unacquainted
with His designs,
but I shall not cease
to believe in them
because I cannot fathom them,
and I had rather
mistrust my own capacity
than His justice.
There
is a country in the world
where
the great revolution which
I am speaking
of seems nearly
to have reached
its natural limits;
it has been effected
with ease and simplicity,
say rather that this country
has attained
the consequences
of the democratic revolution
which we are undergoing
without having experienced
the revolution itself.
The emigrants
who fixed themselves
on the shores
of America in the beginning
of the seventeenth century
severed
the democratic principle
from all
the principles
which repressed it
in the old communities
of Europe,
and transplanted it unalloyed
to the New World.
It has there been
allowed to spread
in perfect freedom,
and to
put forth its consequences
in the laws
by influencing
the manners of the country.
It appears
to me beyond a doubt
that sooner or later
we shall arrive,
like the Americans,
at an almost complete equality
of conditions.
But I
do not conclude from this
that
we
shall ever be necessarily led
to draw
the same political
consequences which
the Americans
have derived
from a similar social organization.
I am
far from supposing that they
have chosen
the only form
of government which
a democracy may adopt;
but the identity
of the efficient cause
of laws and manners
in the two countries
is sufficient
to account
for the immense interest
we have in becoming acquainted
with its effects in each
of them.
It is not,
then,
merely to satisfy
a legitimate curiosity that
I have examined America;
my wish
has been to find instruction
by which we
may ourselves profit.
Whoever should imagine that
I have intended
to write a panegyric
will perceive that such
was not my design;
nor has it been my object
to advocate any form
of government in particular,
for I am of opinion
that absolute excellence
is rarely
to be found
in any legislation;
I have not even affected
to discuss
whether the social revolution,
which
I believe
to be irresistible,
is advantageous or prejudicial
to mankind;
I have acknowledged
this revolution
as a fact already accomplished
or
on the eve
of its accomplishment;
and I
have selected the nation,
from amongst those which
have undergone it,
in which
its development
has been
the most peaceful
and the most complete,
in order to
discern
its natural consequences,
and, if it
be possible,
to distinguish
the means
by which it
may be rendered profitable.
I confess that
in America I saw
more than America;
I sought the image
of democracy itself,
with its inclinations,
its character,
its prejudices,
and its passions,
in order to
learn what we
have to fear or
to hope from its progress.
In the first part
of this work
I have attempted
to show
the tendency
given
to the laws
by the democracy of America,
which is abandoned almost
without restraint
to its instinctive propensities,
and to exhibit
the course
it prescribes
to the Government and
the influence
it exercises on affairs.
I have sought
to discover
the evils
and the advantages which
it produces.
I have examined
the precautions
used by the Americans
to direct it,
as well as those which they
have not adopted,
and I have undertaken
to point out
the causes which
enable it
to govern society.
I do not know
whether I
have succeeded in making
known what I saw in America,
but I am certain that such
has been my sincere desire,
and that
I have never,
knowingly,
moulded facts to ideas,
instead of ideas to facts.
Whenever a point
could be established
by the aid of written
documents,
I have had recourse
to the original text,
and to the most authentic
and approved works.
I have cited my authorities
in the notes,
and anyone
may refer to them.
Whenever an opinion,
a political custom,
or a remark
on the manners
of the country
was concerned,
I endeavored
to consult
the most enlightened men
I met with.
If the point
in question
was important or doubtful,
I was not satisfied
with one testimony,
but I formed my opinion
on the evidence
of several witnesses.
Here
the reader
must necessarily believe me
upon my word.
I
could frequently have quoted
names
which are either
known to him,
or which
deserve to be so,
in proof of what I
advance;
but I
have carefully abstained
from this practice.
A stranger
frequently hears
important truths
at the fire-side
of his host,
which
the latter
would perhaps conceal
from the ear of friendship;
he consoles himself
with his guest
for the silence
to which he is restricted,
and the shortness
of the traveller's stay
takes away all fear
of his indiscretion.
I carefully noted
every conversation
of this nature as soon
as it occurred,
but these
notes will never leave
my writing-case;
I had rather
injure the success
of my statements
than
add my name
to the list
of those strangers
who repay
the generous hospitality
they have received
by subsequent chagrin
and annoyance.
I am aware that,
notwithstanding my care,
nothing
will be easier
than to criticise this book,
if anyone
ever chooses to criticise it.
Those readers
who may examine
it closely will discover
the fundamental idea which
connects the several parts
together.
But the diversity
of the subjects
I have had
to treat is exceedingly great,
and it
will not be difficult
to oppose
an isolated fact
to the body
of facts which
I quote,
or an isolated idea
to the body of ideas
I put forth.
I hope
to be read in the spirit
which has guided my labors,
and that my book
may be judged
by the general impression
it leaves,
as I have formed
my own judgment
not on any single reason,
but upon the mass
of evidence.
It must not be forgotten that
the author
who wishes
to be understood is obliged
to push all his ideas
to their
utmost theoretical consequences,
and often to the verge of
what is
false or impracticable;
for if
it be necessary
sometimes to quit
the rules
of logic in active life,
such
is not
the case in discourse,
and a man
finds that almost
as many difficulties spring
from inconsistency
of language
as
usually arise
from inconsistency
of conduct.
I conclude
by pointing out myself
what many
readers will consider
the principal defect
of the work.
This book
is written
to favor no particular views,
and in composing it
I have entertained no designs
of serving
or attacking any party;
I have undertaken not
to see differently,
but to look further
than parties,
and whilst they
are busied
for the morrow
I have turned my thoughts
to the Future.