Democracy In America

By Alexis De Tocqueville

Translator - Henry Reeve

Book One

Introduction

Special Introduction By Hon. John T. Morgan

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.

[See Alexis De Tocqueville]

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 FrenchRevolution, 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

Special Introduction By Hon. John J. Ingalls

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

Introductory Chapter

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

believeme 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.

Chapter I:
Exterior Form Of North America

Chapter Summary

North America divided into two vast regions, one inclining

towards the Pole, the other towards the Equator - Valley of the

Mississippi - Traces of the Revolutions of the Globe - Shore of

the Atlantic Ocean where the English Colonies were founded -

Difference in the appearance of North and of South America at the

time of their Discovery - Forests of North America - Prairies

-Wandering Tribes of Natives - Their outward appearance, manners,

and language - Traces of an unknown people.

Exterior Form Of North America

North America presents in its external form certain general

features which it is easy to discriminate at the first glance. A

sort of methodical order seems to have regulated the separation

of land and water, mountains and valleys. A simple, but grand,

arrangement is discoverable amidst the confusion of objects and

the prodigious variety of scenes. This continent is divided,

almost equally, into two vast regions, one of which is bounded on

the north by the Arctic Pole, and by the two great oceans on the

east and west. It stretches towards the south, forming a triangle

whose irregular sides meet at length below the great lakes of

Canada. The second region begins where the other terminates, and

includes all the remainder of the continent. The one slopes

gently towards the Pole, the other towards the Equator.

The territory comprehended in the first region descends

towards the north with so imperceptible a slope that it may

almost be said to form a level plain. Within the bounds of this

immense tract of country there are neither high mountains nor

deep valleys. Streams meander through it irregularly: great

rivers mix their currents, separate and meet again, disperse and

form vast marshes, losing all trace of their channels in the

labyrinth of waters they have themselves created; and thus, at

length, after innumerable windings, fall into the Polar Seas.

The great lakes which bound this first region are not walled in,

like most of those in the Old World, between hills and rocks.

Their banks are flat, and rise but a few feet above the level of

their waters; each of them thus forming a vast bowl filled to the

brim. The slightest change in the structure of the globe would

cause their waters to rush either towards the Pole or to the

tropical sea.

The second region is more varied on its surface, and better

suited for the habitation of man. Two long chains of mountains

divide it from one extreme to the other; the Alleghany ridge

takes the form of the shores of the Atlantic Ocean; the other is

parallel with the Pacific. The space which lies between these

two chains of mountains contains 1,341,649 square miles. *a Its

surface is therefore about six times as great as that of France.

This vast territory, however, forms a single valley, one side of

which descends gradually from the rounded summits of the

Alleghanies, while the other rises in an uninterrupted course

towards the tops of the Rocky Mountains. At the bottom of the

valley flows an immense river, into which the various streams

issuing from the mountains fall from all parts. In memory of

their native land, the French formerly called this river the St.

Louis. The Indians, in their pompous language, have named it the

Father of Waters, or the Mississippi.

[Footnote a: Darby's "View of the United States."]

The Mississippi takes its source above the limit of the two

great regions of which I have spoken, not far from the highest

point of the table-land where they unite. Near the same spot

rises another river, *b which empties itself into the Polar seas.

The course of the Mississippi is at first dubious: it winds

several times towards the north, from whence it rose; and at

length, after having been delayed in lakes and marshes, it flows

slowly onwards to the south. Sometimes quietly gliding along the

argillaceous bed which nature has assigned to it, sometimes

swollen by storms, the Mississippi waters 2,500 miles in its

course. *c At the distance of 1,364 miles from its mouth this

river attains an average depth of fifteen feet; and it is

navigated by vessels of 300 tons burden for a course of nearly

500 miles. Fifty-seven large navigable rivers contribute to

swell the waters of the Mississippi; amongst others, the

Missouri, which traverses a space of 2,500 miles; the Arkansas of

1,300 miles, the Red River 1,000 miles, four whose course is from

800 to 1,000 miles in length, viz., the Illinois, the St.

Peter's, the St. Francis, and the Moingona; besides a countless

multitude of rivulets which unite from all parts their tributary

streams.

[Footnote b: The Red River.]

[Footnote c: Warden's "Description of the United States."]

The valley which is watered by the Mississippi seems formed

to be the bed of this mighty river, which, like a god of

antiquity, dispenses both good and evil in its course. On the

shores of the stream nature displays an inexhaustible fertility;

in proportion as you recede from its banks, the powers of

vegetation languish, the soil becomes poor, and the plants that

survive have a sickly growth. Nowhere have the great convulsions

of the globe left more evident traces than in the valley of the

Mississippi; the whole aspect of the country shows the powerful

effects of water, both by its fertility and by its barrenness.

The waters of the primeval ocean accumulated enormous beds of

vegetable mould in the valley, which they levelled as they

retired. Upon the right shore of the river are seen immense

plains, as smooth as if the husbandman had passed over them with

his roller. As you approach the mountains the soil becomes more

and more unequal and sterile; the ground is, as it were, pierced

in a thousand places by primitive rocks, which appear like the

bones of a skeleton whose flesh is partly consumed. The surface

of the earth is covered with a granite sand and huge irregular

masses of stone, among which a few plants force their growth, and

give the appearance of a green field covered with the ruins of a

vast edifice. These stones and this sand discover, on

examination, a perfect analogy with those which compose the arid

and broken summits of the Rocky Mountains. The flood of waters

which washed the soil to the bottom of the valley afterwards

carried away portions of the rocks themselves; and these, dashed

and bruised against the neighboring cliffs, were left scattered

like wrecks at their feet. *d The valley of the Mississippi is,

upon the whole, the most magnificent dwelling-place prepared by

God for man's abode; and yet it may be said that at present it is

but a mighty desert.

[Footnote d: See Appendix, A.]

On the eastern side of the Alleghanies, between the base of

these mountains and the Atlantic Ocean, there lies a long ridge

of rocks and sand, which the sea appears to have left behind as

it retired. The mean breadth of this territory does not exceed

one hundred miles; but it is about nine hundred miles in length.

This part of the American continent has a soil which offers every

obstacle to the husbandman, and its vegetation is scanty and

unvaried.

Upon this inhospitable coast the first united efforts of

human industry were made. The tongue of arid land was the cradle

of those English colonies which were destined one day to become

the United States of America. The centre of power still remains

here; whilst in the backwoods the true elements of the great

people to whom the future control of the continent belongs are

gathering almost in secrecy together.

When the Europeans first landed on the shores of the West

Indies, and afterwards on the coast of South America, they

thought themselves transported into those fabulous regions of

which poets had sung. The sea sparkled with phosphoric light,

and the extraordinary transparency of its waters discovered to

the view of the navigator all that had hitherto been hidden in

the deep abyss. *e Here and there appeared little islands

perfumed with odoriferous plants, and resembling baskets of

flowers floating on the tranquil surface of the ocean. Every

object which met the sight, in this enchanting region, seemed

prepared to satisfy the wants or contribute to the pleasures of

man. Almost all the trees were loaded with nourishing fruits, and

those which were useless as food delighted the eye by the

brilliancy and variety of their colors. In groves of fragrant

lemon-trees, wild figs, flowering myrtles, acacias, and

oleanders, which were hung with festoons of various climbing

plants, covered with flowers, a multitude of birds unknown in

Europe displayed their bright plumage, glittering with purple and

azure, and mingled their warbling with the harmony of a world

teeming with life and motion. *f Underneath this brilliant

exterior death was concealed. But the air of these climates had

so enervating an influence that man, absorbed by present

enjoyment, was rendered regardless of the future.

[Footnote e: Malte Brun tells us (vol. v. p. 726) that the water

of the Caribbean Sea is so transparent that corals and fish are

discernible at a depth of sixty fathoms. The ship seemed to

float in air, the navigator became giddy as his eye penetrated

through the crystal flood, and beheld submarine gardens, or beds

of shells, or gilded fishes gliding among tufts and thickets of

seaweed.]

[Footnote f: See Appendix, B.]

North America appeared under a very different aspect; there

everything was grave, serious, and solemn: it seemed created to

be the domain of intelligence, as the South was that of sensual

delight. A turbulent and foggy ocean washed its shores. It was

girt round by a belt of granite rocks, or by wide tracts of sand.

The foliage of its woods was dark and gloomy, for they were

composed of firs, larches, evergreen oaks, wild olive-trees, and

laurels. Beyond this outer belt lay the thick shades of the

central forest, where the largest trees which are produced in the

two hemispheres grow side by side. The plane, the catalpa, the

sugar- maple, and the Virginian poplar mingled their branches

with those of the oak, the beech, and the lime. In these, as in

the forests of the Old World, destruction was perpetually going

on. The ruins of vegetation were heaped upon each other; but

there was no laboring hand to remove them, and their decay was

not rapid enough to make room for the continual work of

reproduction. Climbing plants, grasses, and other herbs forced

their way through the mass of dying trees; they crept along their

bending trunks, found nourishment in their dusty cavities, and a

passage beneath the lifeless bark. Thus decay gave its

assistance to life, and their respective productions were mingled

together. The depths of these forests were gloomy and obscure,

undirected in their course by human industry, preserved in them a

constant moisture. It was rare to meet with flowers, wild

fruits, or birds beneath their shades. The fall of a tree

overthrown by age, the rushing torrent of a cataract, the lowing

of the buffalo, and the howling of the wind were the only sounds

which broke the silence of nature.

To the east of the great river, the woods almost

disappeared; in their stead were seen prairies of immense extent.

Whether Nature in her infinite variety had denied the germs of

trees to these fertile plains, or whether they had once been

covered with forests, subsequently destroyed by the hand of man,

is a question which neither tradition nor scientific research has

been able to resolve.

These immense deserts were not, however, devoid of human

inhabitants. Some wandering tribes had been for ages scattered

among the forest shades or the green pastures of the prairie.

From the mouth of the St. Lawrence to the delta of the

Mississippi, and from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, these

savages possessed certain points of resemblance which bore

witness of their common origin; but at the same time they

differed from all other known races of men: *g they were neither

white like the Europeans, nor yellow like most of the Asiatics,

nor black like the negroes. Their skin was reddish brown, their

hair long and shining, their lips thin, and their cheekbones very

prominent. The languages spoken by the North American tribes are

various as far as regarded their words, but they were subject to

the same grammatical rules. These rules differed in several

points from such as had been observed to govern the origin of

language. The idiom of the Americans seemed to be the product of

new combinations, and bespoke an effort of the understanding of

which the Indians of our days would be incapable. *h

[Footnote g: With the progress of discovery some resemblance has

been found to exist between the physical conformation, the

language, and the habits of the Indians of North America, and

those of the Tongous, Mantchous, Mongols, Tartars, and other

wandering tribes of Asia. The land occupied by these tribes is

not very distant from Behring's Strait, which allows of the

supposition, that at a remote period they gave inhabitants to the

desert continent of America. But this is a point which has not

yet been clearly elucidated by science. See Malte Brun, vol. v.;

the works of Humboldt; Fischer, "Conjecture sur l'Origine des

Americains"; Adair, "History of the American Indians."]

[Footnote h: See Appendix, C.]

The social state of these tribes differed also in many

respects from all that was seen in the Old World. They seemed to

have multiplied freely in the midst of their deserts without

coming in contact with other races more civilized than their own.

Accordingly, they exhibited none of those indistinct, incoherent

notions of right and wrong, none of that deep corruption of

manners, which is usually joined with ignorance and rudeness

among nations which, after advancing to civilization, have

relapsed into a state of barbarism. The Indian was indebted to

no one but himself; his virtues, his vices, and his prejudices

were his own work; he had grown up in the wild independence of

his nature.

If, in polished countries, the lowest of the people are rude

and uncivil, it is not merely because they are poor and ignorant,

but that, being so, they are in daily contact with rich and

enlightened men. The sight of their own hard lot and of their

weakness, which is daily contrasted with the happiness and power

of some of their fellow-creatures, excites in their hearts at the

same time the sentiments of anger and of fear: the consciousness

of their inferiority and of their dependence irritates while it

humiliates them. This state of mind displays itself in their

manners and language; they are at once insolent and servile. The

truth of this is easily proved by observation; the people are

more rude in aristocratic countries than elsewhere, in opulent

cities than in rural districts. In those places where the rich

and powerful are assembled together the weak and the indigent

feel themselves oppressed by their inferior condition. Unable to

perceive a single chance of regaining their equality, they give

up to despair, and allow themselves to fall below the dignity of

human nature.

This unfortunate effect of the disparity of conditions is

not observable in savage life: the Indians, although they are

ignorant and poor, are equal and free. At the period when

Europeans first came among them the natives of North America were

ignorant of the value of riches, and indifferent to the

enjoyments which civilized man procures to himself by their

means. Nevertheless there was nothing coarse in their demeanor;

they practised an habitual reserve and a kind of aristocratic

politeness. Mild and hospitable when at peace, though merciless

in war beyond any known degree of human ferocity, the Indian

would expose himself to die of hunger in order to succor the

stranger who asked admittance by night at the door of his hut;

yet he could tear in pieces with his hands the still quivering

limbs of his prisoner. The famous republics of antiquity never

gave examples of more unshaken courage, more haughty spirits, or

more intractable love of independence than were hidden in former

times among the wild forests of the New World. *i The Europeans

produced no great impression when they landed upon the shores of

North America; their presence engendered neither envy nor fear.

What influence could they possess over such men as we have

described? The Indian could live without wants, suffer without

complaint, and pour out his death-song at the stake. *j Like all

the other members of the great human family, these savages

believed in the existence of a better world, and adored under

different names, God, the creator of the universe. Their notions

on the great intellectual truths were in general simple and

philosophical. *k

[Footnote i: We learn from President Jefferson's "Notes upon

Virginia," p. 148, that among the Iroquois, when attacked by a

superior force, aged men refused to fly or to survive the

destruction of their country; and they braved death like the

ancient Romans when their capital was sacked by the Gauls.

Further on, p. 150, he tells us that there is no example of an

Indian who, having fallen into the hands of his enemies, begged

for his life; on the contrary, the captive sought to obtain death

at the hands of his conquerors by the use of insult and

provocation.]

[Footnote j: See "Histoire de la Louisiane," by Lepage Dupratz;

Charlevoix, "Histoire de la Nouvelle France"; "Lettres du Rev. G.

Hecwelder;" "Transactions of the American Philosophical Society,"

v. I; Jefferson's "Notes on Virginia," pp. 135-190. What is said

by Jefferson is of especial weight, on account of the personal

merit of the writer, of his peculiar position, and of the matter-

of-fact age in which he lived.]

[Footnote k: See Appendix, D.]

Although we have here traced the character of a primitive

people, yet it cannot be doubted that another people, more

civilized and more advanced in all respects, had preceded it in

the same regions.

An obscure tradition which prevailed among the Indians to

the north of the Atlantic informs us that these very tribes

formerly dwelt on the west side of the Mississippi. Along the

banks of the Ohio, and throughout the central valley, there are

frequently found, at this day, tumuli raised by the hands of men.

On exploring these heaps of earth to their centre, it is usual to

meet with human bones, strange instruments, arms and utensils of

all kinds, made of metal, or destined for purposes unknown to the

present race. The Indians of our time are unable to give any

information relative to the history of this unknown people.

Neither did those who lived three hundred years ago, when America

was first discovered, leave any accounts from which even an

hypothesis could be formed. Tradition - that perishable, yet

ever renewed monument of the pristine world - throws no light

upon the subject. It is an undoubted fact, however, that in this

part of the globe thousands of our fellow-beings had lived. When

they came hither, what was their origin, their destiny, their

history, and how they perished, no one can tell. How strange does

it appear that nations have existed, and afterwards so completely

disappeared from the earth that the remembrance of their very

names is effaced; their languages are lost; their glory is

vanished like a sound without an echo; though perhaps there is

not one which has not left behind it some tomb in memory of its

passage! The most durable monument of human labor is that which

recalls the wretchedness and nothingness of man.

Although the vast country which we have been describing was

inhabited by many indigenous tribes, it may justly be said at the

time of its discovery by Europeans to have formed one great

desert. The Indians occupied without possessing it. It is by

agricultural labor that man appropriates the soil, and the early

inhabitants of North America lived by the produce of the chase.

Their implacable prejudices, their uncontrolled passions, their

vices, and still more perhaps their savage virtues, consigned

them to inevitable destruction. The ruin of these nations began

from the day when Europeans landed on their shores; it has

proceeded ever since, and we are now witnessing the completion of

it. They seem to have been placed by Providence amidst the

riches of the New World to enjoy them for a season, and then

surrender them. Those coasts, so admirably adapted for commerce

and industry; those wide and deep rivers; that inexhaustible

valley of the Mississippi; the whole continent, in short, seemed

prepared to be the abode of a great nation, yet unborn.

In that land the great experiment was to be made, by

civilized man, of the attempt to construct society upon a new

basis; and it was there, for the first time, that theories

hitherto unknown, or deemed impracticable, were to exhibit a

spectacle for which the world had not been prepared by the

history of the past.