American Institutions And Their Influence

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UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE.

I have already observed that universal suffrage has been adopted
in all the states of the Union: it consequently occurs among
different populations which occupy very different positions in
the scale of society. I have had opportunities of observing its
effects in different localities, and among races of men who are
nearly strangers to each other by their language, their religion,
and their manner of life; in Louisiana as well as in New England,
in Georgia and in Canada. I have remarked that universal
suffrage is far from producing in America either all the good or
all the evil consequences which are assigned to it in Europe, and
that its effects differ very widely from those which are usually
attributed to it.

* * * * *

CHOICE OF THE PEOPLE, AND INSTINCTIVE PREFERENCES OF THE
AMERICAN DEMOCRACY.

In the United States the most talented Individuals are rarely
placed at the Head of Affairs.--Reasons of this
Peculiarity.--The Envy which prevails in the lower Orders of
France against the higher Classes, is not a French, but a
purely democratic Sentiment.--For what Reason the most
distinguished Men in America frequently seclude themselves from
public affairs.

Many people in Europe are apt to believe without saying it, or to
say without believing it, that one of the great advantages of
universal suffrage is, that it intrusts the direction of public
affairs to men who are worthy of the public confidence. They
admit that the people is unable to govern for itself, but they
aver that it is always sincerely disposed to promote the welfare
of the state, and that it instinctively designates those persons
who are animated by the same good wishes, and who are the most
fit to wield the supreme authority. I confess that the
observations I made in America by no means coincide with these
opinions. On my arrival in the United States I was surprised to
find so much distinguished talent among the subjects, and so
little among the heads of the government. It is a
well-authenticated fact, that at the present day the most
talented men in the United States are very rarely placed at the
head of affairs; and it must be acknowledged that such has been
the result, in proportion as democracy has outstepped all its
former limits. The race of American statesmen has evidently
dwindled most remarkably in the course of the last fifty years.

Several causes may be assigned to this phenomenon. It is
impossible, notwithstanding the most strenuous exertions, to
raise the intelligence of the people above a certain level.
Whatever may be the facilities of acquiring information, whatever
may be the profusion of easy methods and of cheap science, the
human mind can never be instructed and educated without devoting
a considerable space of time to those objects.

The greater or the lesser possibility of subsisting without labor
is therefore the necessary boundary of intellectual improvement.
This boundary is more remote in some countries, and more
restricted in others; but it must exist somewhere as long as the
people is constrained to work in order to procure the means of
physical subsistence, that is to say, as long as it retains its
popular character. It is therefore quite as difficult to imagine
a state in which all the citizens should be very well-informed,
as a state in which they should all be wealthy; these two
difficulties may be looked upon as correlative. It may very
readily be admitted that the mass of the citizens are sincerely
disposed to promote the welfare of their country; nay more, it
may even be allowed that the lower classes are less apt to be
swayed by considerations of personal interest than the higher
orders; but it is always more or less impossible for them to
discern the best means of attaining the end, which they desire
with sincerity. Long and patient observation, joined to a
multitude of different notions, is required to form a just
estimate of the character of a single individual; and can it be
supposed that the vulgar have the power of succeeding in an
inquiry which misleads the penetration of genius itself? The
people has neither the time nor the means which are essential to
the prosecution of an investigation of this kind; its conclusions
are hastily formed from a superficial inspection of the more
prominent features of a question. Hence it often assents to the
clamor of a mountebank, who knows the secret of stimulating its
tastes; while its truest friends frequently fail in their
exertions.

Moreover, the democracy is not only deficient in that soundness
of judgment which is necessary to select men really deserving of
its confidence, but it has neither the desire nor the inclination
to find them out. It cannot be denied that democratic
institutions have a very strong tendency to promote the feeling
of envy in the human heart; not so much because they afford to
every one the means of rising to the level of any of his
fellow-citizens, as because those means perpetually disappoint
the persons who employ them. Democratic institutions awaken and
foster a passion for equality which they can never entirely
satisfy. This complete equality eludes the grasp of the people
at the very moment when it thinks to hold it fast, and "flies,"
as Pascal says, "with eternal flight;" the people is excited in
the pursuit of an advantage, which is the more precious because
it is not sufficiently remote to be unknown, or sufficiently near
to be enjoyed. The lower orders are agitated by the chance of
success, they are irritated by its uncertainty; and they pass
from the enthusiasm of pursuit to the exhaustion of ill-success,
and lastly to the acrimony of disappointment. Whatever
transcends their own limits appears to be an obstacle to their
desires, and there is no kind of superiority, however legitimate
it may be, which is not irksome in their sight.

It has been supposed that the secret instinct, which leads the
lower orders to remove their superiors as much as possible from
the direction of public affairs, is peculiar to France. This,
however, is an error; the propensity to which I allude is not
inherent in any particular nation, but in democratic institutions
in general; and although it may have been heightened by peculiar
political circumstances, it owes its origin to a higher cause.

In the United States, the people is not disposed to hate the
superior class of society; but it is not very favorably inclined
toward them, and it carefully excludes them from the exercise of
authority. It does not entertain any dread of distinguished
talents, but it is rarely captivated by them; and it awards its
approbation very sparingly to such as have risen without the
popular support.

While the natural propensities of democracy induce the people to
reject the most distinguished citizens as its rulers, these
individuals are no less apt to retire from a political career, in
which it is almost impossible to retain their independence, or to
advance without degrading themselves. This opinion has been very
candidly set forth by Chancellor Kent, who says, in speaking with
great eulogium of that part of the constitution which empowers
the executive to nominate the judges: "It is indeed probable that
the men who are best fitted to discharge the duties of this high
office would have too much reserve in their manners, and too much
austerity in their principles, for them to be returned by the
majority at an election where universal suffrage is adopted."
Such were the opinions which were printed without contradiction
in America in the year 1830.

I hold it to be sufficiently demonstrated, that universal
suffrage is by no means a guarantee of the wisdom of the popular
choice; and that whatever its advantages may be, this is not one
of them.

* * * * *

CAUSES WHICH MAY PARTLY CORRECT THESE TENDENCIES OF THE
DEMOCRACY.

Contrary Effects produced on Peoples as well as on individuals by
great Dangers.--Why so many distinguished Men stood at the Head
of Affairs in America fifty Years ago.--Influence which the
intelligence and the Manners of the People exercise upon its
choice.--Example of New England.--States of the
Southwest.--Influence of certain Laws upon the Choice of the
People.--Election by an elected Body.--Its Effects upon the
Composition of the Senate.

When a state is threatened by serious dangers, the people
frequently succeed in selecting the citizens who are the most
able to save it. It has been observed that man rarely retains
his customary level in presence of very critical circumstances;
he rises above, or he sinks below, his usual condition, and the
same thing occurs in nations at large. Extreme perils sometimes
quench the energy of a people instead of stimulating it; they
excite without directing its passions; and instead of clearing,
they confuse its powers of perception. The Jews deluged the
smoking ruins of their temples with the carnage of the remnant of
their host. But it is more common, both in the case of nations
and in that of individuals, to find extraordinary virtues arising
from the very imminence of the danger. Great characters are then
thrown into relief, as the edifices which are concealed by the
gloom of night, are illuminated by the glare of a conflagration.
At those dangerous times genius no longer abstains from
presenting itself in the arena; and the people, alarmed by the
perils of its situation, buries its envious passions in a short
oblivion. Great names may then be drawn from the urn of an
election.

I have already observed that the American statesmen of the
present day are very inferior to those who stood at the head of
affairs fifty years ago. This is as much a consequence of the
circumstances, as of the laws of the country. When America was
struggling in the high cause of independence to throw off the
yoke of another country, and when it was about to usher a new
nation into the world, the spirits of its inhabitants were roused
to the height which their great efforts required. In this
general excitement, the most distinguished men were ready to
forestall the wants of the community, and the people clung to
them for support, and placed them at its head. But events of
this magnitude are rare; and it is from an inspection of the
ordinary course of affairs that our judgment must be formed.

If passing occurrences sometimes act as checks upon the passions
of democracy, the intelligence and the manners of the community
exercise an influence which is not less powerful, and far more
permanent. This is extremely perceptible in the United States.

In New England the education and the liberties of the communities
were engendered by the moral and religious principles of their
founders. Where society has acquired a sufficient degree of
stability to enable it to hold certain maxims and to retain fixed
habits, the lower orders are accustomed to respect intellectual
superiority, and to submit to it without complaint, although they
set at naught all those privileges which wealth and birth have
introduced among mankind. The democracy in New England
consequently makes a more judicious choice than it does
elsewhere.

But as we descend toward the south, to those states in which the
constitution of society is more modern and less strong, where
instruction is less general, and where the principles of
morality, of religion, and of liberty, are less happily combined,
we perceive that the talents and the virtues of those who are in
authority become more and more rare.

Lastly, when we arrive at the new southwestern states, in which
the constitution of society dates but from yesterday, and
presents an agglomeration of adventurers and speculators, we are
amazed at the persons who are invested with public authority, and
we are led to ask by what force, independent of the legislation
and of the men who direct it, the state can be protected, and
society be made to flourish.

There are certain laws of a democratic nature which contribute,
nevertheless, to correct, in some measure, the dangerous
tendencies of democracy. On entering the house of
representatives at Washington, one is struck by the vulgar
demeanor of that great assembly. The eye frequently does not
discover a man of celebrity within its walls. Its members are
almost all obscure individuals, whose names present no
associations to the mind: they are mostly village-lawyers, men in
trade, or even persons belonging to the lower classes of society.
In a country in which education is very general, it is said that
the representatives of the people do not always know how to write
correctly.

At a few yards distance from this spot is the door of the senate,
which contains within a small space a large proportion of the
celebrated men of America. Scarcely an individual is to be
perceived in it who does not recall the idea of an active and
illustrious career: the senate is composed of eloquent advocates,
distinguished generals, wise magistrates, and statesmen of note,
whose language would at all times do honor to the most remarkable
parliamentary debates of Europe.

What then is the cause of this strange contrast, and why are the
most able citizens to be found in one assembly rather than in the
other? Why is the former body remarkable for its vulgarity and
its poverty of talent, while the latter seems to enjoy a monopoly
of intelligence and of sound judgment? Both of these assemblies
emanate from the people; both of them are chosen by universal
suffrage; and no voice has hitherto been heard to assert, in
America, that the senate is hostile to the interests of the
people. From what cause, then, does so startling a difference
arise? The only reason which appears to me adequately to account
for it is, that the house of representatives is elected by the
populace directly, and that of the senate is elected by elected
bodies. The whole body of the citizens names the legislature of
each state, and the federal constitution converts these
legislatures into so many electoral bodies, which return the
members of the senate. The senators are elected by an indirect
application of universal suffrage; for the legislatures which
name them are not aristocratic or privileged bodies which
exercise the electoral franchise in their own right; but they are
chosen by the totality of the citizens; they are generally
elected every year, and new members may constantly be chosen, who
will employ their electoral rights in conformity with the wishes
of the public. But this transmission of the popular authority
through an assembly of chosen men, operates an important change
in it, by refining its discretion and improving the forms which
it adopts. Men who are chosen in this manner, accurately
represent the majority of the nation which governs them; but they
represent the elevated thoughts which are current in the
community, the generous propensities which prompt its nobler
actions, rather than the petty passions which disturb, or the
vices which disgrace it.

The time may be already anticipated at which the American
republics will be obliged to introduce the plan of election by an
elected body more frequently into their system of representation,
or they will incur no small risk of perishing miserably among the
shoals of democracy.

And here I have no scruple in confessing that I look upon this
peculiar system of election as the only means of bringing the
exercise of political power to the level of all classes of the
people. Those thinkers who regard this institution as the
exclusive weapon of a party, and those who fear, on the other
hand, to make use of it, seem to me to fall into as great an
error in the one case as in the other.

* * * * *

INFLUENCE WHICH THE AMERICAN DEMOCRACY HAS EXERCISED
ON THE LAWS RELATING TO ELECTIONS.

When Elections are rare, they expose the State to a violent
Crisis. When they are frequent, they keep up a degree of
feverish Excitement.--The Americans have preferred the second
of these two Evils.--Mutability of the Laws.--Opinions of
Hamilton and Jefferson on this Subject.

When elections recur at long intervals, the state is exposed to
violent agitation every time they take place. Parties exert
themselves to the utmost in order to gain a prize which is so
rarely within their reach; and as the evil is almost irremediable
for the candidates who fail, the consequence of their
disappointed ambition may prove most disastrous: if, on the other
hand, the legal struggle can be repeated within a short space of
time, the defeated parties take patience.

When elections occur frequently, this recurrence keeps society in
a perpetual state of feverish excitement, and imparts a continual
instability to public affairs.

Thus, on the one hand, the state is exposed to the perils of a
revolution, on the other, to perpetual mutability; the former
system threatens the very existence of the government, the latter
is an obstacle to all steady and consistent policy. The
Americans have preferred the second of these evils to the first;
but they were led to this conclusion by their instinct much more
than by their reason; for a taste for variety is one of the
characteristic passions of democracy. An extraordinary
mutability has, by this means, been introduced into their
legislation.

Many of the Americans consider the instability of their laws as a
necessary consequence of a system whose general results are
beneficial. But no one in the United States affects to deny the
fact of this instability, or to contend that it is not a great
evil.

Hamilton, after having demonstrated the utility of a power which
might prevent, or which might at least impede, the promulgation
of bad laws, adds: "It may perhaps be said that the power of
preventing bad laws includes that of preventing good ones, and
may be used to the one purpose as well as to the other. But this
objection will have but little weight with those who can properly
estimate the mischiefs of that inconstancy and mutability in the
laws which form the greatest blemish in the character and genius
of our government."--(Federalist, No. 73.)

And again, in No. 62 of the same work, he observes: "The facility
and excess of law-making seem to be the diseases to which our
governments are most liable.******* The mischievous effects of
the mutability in the public councils arising from a rapid
succession of new members, would fill a volume; every new
election in the states is found to change one half of the
representatives. From this change of men must proceed a change
of opinions and of measures which forfeits the respect and
confidence of nations, poisons the blessings of liberty itself,
and diminishes the attachment and reverence of the people toward
a political system which betrays so many marks of infirmity."

Jefferson himself, the greatest democrat whom the democracy of
America has as yet produced, pointed out the same evils.

"The instability of our laws," he said in a letter to Madison,
"is really a very serious inconvenience. I think we ought to
have obviated it by deciding that a whole year should always be
allowed to elapse between the bringing in of a bill and the final
passing of it. It should afterward be discussed and put to the
vote without the possibility of making any alteration in it; and
if the circumstances of the case required a more speedy decision,
the question should not be decided by a simple majority, but by a
majority of at least two thirds of both houses."

* * * * *

PUBLIC OFFICERS UNDER THE CONTROL OF THE DEMOCRACY
OF AMERICA.

Simple Exterior of the American public Officers.--No official
Costume.--All public Officers are remunerated.--Political
Consequences of this System.--No public Career exists in
America.--Result of this.

Public officers in the United States are commingled with the
crowd of citizens; they have neither palaces, nor guards, nor
ceremonial costumes. This simple exterior of the persons in
authority is connected, not only with the peculiarities of the
American character, but with the fundamental principles of that
society. In the estimation of the democracy, a government is not
a benefit, but a necessary evil. A certain degree of power must
be granted to public officers, for they would be of no use
without it. But the ostensible semblance of authority is by no
means indispensable to the conduct of affairs; and it is
needlessly offensive to the susceptibility of the public. The
public officers themselves are well aware that they only enjoy
the superiority over their fellow citizens, which they derive
from their authority, upon condition of putting themselves on a
level with the whole community by their manners. A public
officer in the United States is uniformly civil, accessible to
all the world, attentive to all requests, and obliging in all his
replies. I was pleased by these characteristics of a democratic
government; and I was struck by the manly independence of the
citizens, who respect the office more than the officer, and who
are less attached to the emblems of authority than to the man who
bears them.

I am inclined to believe that the influence which costumes really
exercise, in an age like that in which we live, has been a good
deal exaggerated. I never perceived that a public officer in
America was the less respected while he was in the discharge of
his duties because his own merit was set off by no adventitious
signs. On the other hand, it is very doubtful whether a peculiar
dress contributes to the respect which public characters ought to
have for their own position, at least when they are not otherwise
inclined to respect it. When a magistrate (and in France such
instances are not rare), indulges his trivial wit at the expense
of a prisoner, or derides a predicament in which a culprit is
placed, it would be well to deprive him of his robes of office,
to see whether he would recall some portion of the natural
dignity of mankind when he is reduced to the apparel of a private
citizen.

A democracy may, however, allow a certain show of magisterial
pomp, and clothe its officers in silks and gold, without
seriously compromising its principles. Privileges of this kind
are transitory; they belong to the place, and are distinct from
the individual: but if public officers are not uniformly
remunerated by the state, the public charges must be intrusted to
men of opulence and independence, who constitute the basis of an
aristocracy; and if the people still retains its right of
election, that election can only be made from a certain class of
citizens.

When a democratic republic renders offices which had formerly
been remunerated, gratuitous, it may safely be believed that that
state is advancing to monarchical institutions; and when a
monarchy begins to remunerate such officers as had hitherto been
unpaid, it is a sure sign that it is approaching toward a
despotic or a republican form of government. The substitution of
paid for unpaid functionaries is of itself, in my opinion,
sufficient to constitute a serious revolution.

I look upon the entire absence of gratuitous functionaries in
America as one of the most prominent signs of the absolute
dominion which democracy exercises in that country. All public
services, of whatsoever nature they may be, are paid; so that
every one has not merely a right, but also the means of
performing them. Although, in democratic states, all the
citizens are qualified to occupy stations in the government, all
are not tempted to try for them. The number and the capacities
of the candidates are more apt to restrict the choice of electors
than the conditions of the candidateship.

In nations in which the principle of election extends to every
place in the state, no political career can, properly speaking,
be said to exist. Men are promoted as if by chance to the rank
which they enjoy, and they are by no means sure of retaining it.
The consequence is that in tranquil times public functions offer
but few lures to ambition. In the United States the persons who
engage in the perplexities of political life are individuals of
very moderate pretensions The pursuit of wealth generally diverts
men of great talents and of great passions from the pursuit of
power; and it very frequently happens that a man does not
undertake to direct the fortune of the state until he has
discovered his incompetence to conduct his own affairs. The vast
number of very ordinary men who occupy public stations is quite
as attributable to these causes as to the bad choice of the
democracy. In the United States, I am not sure that the people
would return the men of superior abilities who might solicit its
support, but it is certain that men of this description do not
come forward.

* * * * *

ARBITRARY POWER OF MAGISTRATES
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