K»~ '1'. f&M-- Mi Democracy in America by . THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES 6W-C at vf'/AZtfrtr, DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA: B V GEORGE W. BURNAP. ORIGIN AND CAUSES O F DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA. ORIGIN AND CAUSES o? DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA: A DISCOURSE B V GEORGE W. BURNAP t $$h DELIVERED IN BALTIMORE, BEFORE THE MARYLAND HISTORICAL SOCIETY, OX ITS EIGHTH ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION; DECEMBER 20, 1- JOH\ I). TOY, PRIMER. JK39 ORIGIN AND CAUSES OF DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA. MR. PRESIDENT AND GENTLEMEN: The subject which I have chosen for your entertainment this evening, is The Origin and Causes of Democracy in America. The United States have now taken rank among the most powerful nations of the globe. As such, we have begun to exert a wide influence in the affairs of nations, and to act no mean part in influenc- ing the future destiny of the human race. It is evident, that that influence will be exerted in favor of popular liberty, the natural rights of man, in short, the universal government of the people. Right or wrong, for good or for evil, this is the influence which we are destined to exert. We have a right to judge so from past experience. The impulse has already been felt throughout Europe, and throughout the world. Although in Europe it has suffered a temporary check, in the subjugation of Hungary, and the retrograde revolution in France, in the defeat of the Republican movement in Germany, and the suppression of the democratic demonstration in Italy, it may- be emphatically said, that the cause, even there, is not dead 2 LIB SETS 6 but slumbering, to be revived at some future day with new energy, a profounder wisdom, and a more complete success, The existence and wonderful prosperity of this nation, are fixed facts, and the lesson they read is not likely to be lost upon the world. Nations, like individuals, have their peculiar organic type, by which they are distinguished from each other. It is early manifested, and when once fixed, has the power of perpetu- ating itself through countless generations. Nationality seems to have a mysterious, creative, and transforming power. Like that vital energy, which determines the species of the trees of the forest, it has the power of assimilating all things to itself. The oak and the pine spring up, side by side, out of a com- mon soil, and draw nourishment from the same elements, yet one converts those elements into the peculiar wood and foli- age of the straight and lofty pine, the other into the low and gnarled oak. So nationality, operating upon the elements of a common humanity, assimilates it to its own type, transmits that type from age to age, and transforms to its own liken whatever foreign element is thrown into it. What can be more different from each other, than the two nations which the British Channel separates? The Alps and the Pyrenees divide nations no less diverse from each other. It is not soil, it is not climate, for what more different than the ancient Roman and the modern Italian? What more dissimilar than the magnanimous soldiers of Alexander, and the cowering slaves who have so long kissed the footstool of the Ottoman throne ? We have existed long enough to develop and to exhibit our national characteristics. The most prominent of these, as I have already said, is Democracy. I mean, of course, in no sectarian or parly sense. I mean a government constituted and administered by the people themselves. I mean a Democracy, in contradistinction to a Despotism, a Monai. an Aristocracy; and as equally distinguished from Anari Agrarianism, and Socialism. The formation of this great Republic in the western hemi- sphere, was a result wholly unforeseen and unpremeditated. It was projected by no individual mind, nor was it the pro- duct of the consentaneous action of any number of minds, workino- together for a common object. The members of our confederacy had not a common origin. They were formed by different circumstances, yet when they at last came together to form a body politic, they were found completely homoge- neous, they bore one type, and like the members of the human frame, they were found to coalesce into one consistent and symmetrical whole. What were the origin and causes of this homogeneousness, this common element of Democracy, which pervaded each and all, and made their union into one nation so easy, so natural, and so perfect. At the time of the discovery of America in 1492, nothing was more improbable than the formation of a vast Republic in North America, stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from either coast, sweeping the commerce of both oceans. There were then, in the nations of Europe, from which Amer- ica was to be colonized, absolutely no materials from which such a product could be expected to spring. The Demo- cratic element was no where developed ; the government of the people was an idea which did not even enter the human mind. The nations were just emerging from the darkness and barbarism of the Middle Ages. So far from governing, in any part of Europe, the people were scarcely emancipated from slavery. They had been for ages bought and sold with the land they cultivated. There was but one nation, and that was England, in which they enjoyed representation in the national legislature, and there they had a voice merely to authorize and legalize taxation. There had been, in that countrv, a long and bloody struggle for power, but it had been between the kings and the feudal aristocracy, in which the people, who did the fighting, and endured the destruction of the wars, had no other interest than a change of tyrants. No one thought of vindicating their liberties, or improving their condition. They were the mere pawns upon the chess- board of political and national ambition ; and they were used with no more feeling or sympathy than the ivory figures, 8 ■which are stained red or left white, that they may not be con- founded in the fight. Spain had just been consolidated into one nation, under the government of Ferdinand and Isabella ; and every ene had been strained to the utmost, in the struggle for the expul- sion of the Moors. In the new monarchy which was estab- lished, the only representation which the people had in the government, was in the deputations from the cities ; and in those deputations it was the wealth of cities, not the popula- tion, that was represented. Cities were tolerated in the States General from no respect for popular rights, but because the wheels of government could not move without money, and the mercantile wealth of cities alone could furnish this. The people of Spain were then without education, without wealth, without power, without the knowledge even of their political rights. And, had the winds of heaven driven Columbus upon the coast of the United States, instead of the island of San Salvador, and North America been peopled from Spain instead of South, the territory we occupy would now have been what South America and Mexico are. So far from originating and enjoying a Republican government, inhabitants would, like them, have been incapable of imitat- g one, when they had the model before their eyes. The state of things was no better in France. There, at the period of which we speak, both king and nobles united to depress the people. Tiny did not dare to trust them with arms, and chose rather to depend on i mercenaries for military defence, than to suffer the people to ham the secret of their strength. There was no effectual enfranchisement of the people in France, previous to the revolution of 1 7 * J 2 , two hundred years after the discovery of America. Louis the Fourteenth, with the rack of the inquisitor, and the soldier's sword, in the destruction of the Huguenots, had quenched out in blood, the first sparks of popular liberh mce, before they kindled to a flame. But France, just as she then was, tried her hand at Co ing the new world. Her ships, fortunately . wandered -_r to the North as those of Spain had dune to the Suuth. They sailed up the St. Lawrence, and laid the foundations of Montreal and Quebec. And there her colonies remain to the present day, unchanged and unimproved; a petrified speci- men of what France was two centuries ago. So far are they from Republicanism, that few of them have intelligence enough to know the meaning of the word. Venice and the Netherlands, were the only countries in Europe, in which there was even the shadow of popular lib- erty, and they were too happy, and too busy, in the enjoy- ment of the fruits of their trade and industry, to covet the possession of a howling wilderness. And what was England herself, at that period, from which liberty finally went forth conquering and to conquer? Rather behind the rest of Europe than in advance of it. Her civili- zation had been arrested and delayed by a series of political calamities. Her energies had been exhausted in the ruinous endeavor to retain her continental possessions. Her best blood had flowed in the civil wars; her wealth had been wasted, and her soil almost depopulated, by the endless quarrel of a disputed succession. It was not until the claims of the rival houses of York and Lancaster were peacefully- united in the Seventh and Eighth Henry, that England took her place in the march of nations towards the goal of freedom and happiness. It was in the year 1497 that the continent of North Amer- ica was first looked upon by English eyes. Henry the Sev- enth was then upon the throne. Had these shores been col- onized then, even by Englishmen, what would have been the result? A little better, perhaps, than what took place in the Gulf of Mexico and on the banks of the St. Lawrence, but not much. The people of England then had no political existence. The only recognized symbol of their being, as well as the germ of their future power, appeared in the House of Commons. But so overwhelming was the landed interest, and so small was the mercantile and mechanical wealth of the country, that both king and nobility, so far from regarding it as a co-ordinate power, looked upon it as a convenient instru- ment of draining from the people their proportion of the pub- 10 lie burdens; and of so little account was it as late as the reign of Henry the Eighth, that when that body hesitated to pass a bill at his order, he sent for the Speaker, and drawing his finger round his neck, declared, "If my bill i*; not passed to-morrow, this must come off." Queen Elizabeth, his daughter, reigned with a prerogative scarcely less despotic ; and we may say, that during the dynasty of the house of Tudor, terminating in 1G02, tour years before the Virginia col- ony landed at Jamestown, the idea of a popular government, a government based on population and not on property or hereditary right, scarcely entered the mind of an Englishman, as within the bounds of possibility. And yet, from this very people, within a little more than a century and a half, sprang our glorious Republic, in perfect symmetry and beauty, like Minerva from the br<.in of Jove. How was this wonderful result brought about? To devel- op this process is the theme of the present addn From what I have already said, it will be readily inferred, that there was no design in the people of England, of found- ing a great Republic in this western world, nor did it enter into the minds of the Colonists themselves. Wilh the excep- tion of the Puritans, it was the height of their ambition to reproduce England and her institutions in America, just as she then was. They knew of nothing better; they could con- ceive of nothing more perfect. And after they arrived, they long continued to be Englishmen, though transplanted to a new world. Their idea of a perfect government was of a king, a nobility, and commons; but that the third estate was competent to subsist by itself, and discharge all the functions of government better by itself than in partnership wilh the others, never entered their conceptions, and was the slow revelation of experience. The first Colonial Charter to Virginia, which dates in 1606, contained not a particle of the popular element. It was granted to two companies, one composed "of noblen gentlemen, and merchants of London;' the other, "of knights, gentlemen, and merchants, in the West." They were to have no representation in Parliament, and not even 11 the power to make their own laws. They were to be gov- erned, not by themselves, but by a " resident Council, appointed by the king, and removable at his pleasure." Legislation, even in the minutest affairs, was reserved to be exercised by the sovereign. Scarcely, however, had a settlement been made on the banks of the James, when a revolution took place, symbolic of the future destiny of British colonization in the West. The government manufactured by royal hands in England, it was found, would not work in America. The Council, the offspring of European privilege and aristocracy, was found too feeble, spiritless, and inefficient for its new and untried posi- tion, and was compelled to give place to plain John Smith, one of nature's noblemen, who took command of the Colony by an authority more authentic and indisputable than earthly monarch could ever bestow, the authority of a commanding intellect, and an indomitable will. The whole territory of Maryland was originally given away to a single nobleman. In providing for its government, Lord Baltimore took such views, and indulged such anticipations, as were natural to a nobleman of that age. The Charter, which was drawn up at Irs instance, and it is supposed accord- ing to his wishes, contemplates the transfer to America, whole and unchanged, of the feudal system, as it had existed in Europe ever since the overthrow of the Roman Empire. He secured to himself palatine, or royal jurisdiction, the highest privilege of the nobility in feudal times. The tenth section of his Charter confers on him the power of creating a titled aristocracy. In the language of the Charter, " We do give free and plenary power to the aforesaid, now baron of Baltimore, and to his heirs and assigns, to confer favors, rewards and honors upon such subjects, inhabiting within the province aforesaid, as shall be well deserving, and to adorn them with whatever titles and dignities they shall appoint, so that they be not such as are used in England." The lands in Europe had then been held for ages, not by the people in fee simple, but by immense landed proprietors, and by them leased out to tenants from time to time. The- 12 same tenure of land was contemplated here. With these vast domains of the European aristocracy, certain rights of terri- torial jurisdiction were connected. The baron had power to organize and hold a court of his own, not subject to the con- trol of the courts established by the nation at large. This independent jurisdiction was one of the greatest grievances of the feudal system. It was obnoxious to both king and people, but it was one which the feudal aristocracy retained with the greatest tenacity. This was to be conferred on the newly created American aristocracy. By the nineteenth sec- tion of the Charter, it is provided, " We also, by these pre- sents, do give and grant license to the same baron of Balti- more, and to his heirs, to erect any parcels of land within the province aforesaid into manors, and in every of these manors, to have and to hold a court baron, and all things which to a court baron do belong." It is needless to say, that these provisions remained a dead letter upon the parchment. Feudalism was found to be inca- pable of transportation across the Atlantic. It could not live for a day in the free atmosphere of America. The nobleman never came, himself, to give it effect. Emancipated from the prejudices, as well as the institutions of the old world, the emigrants to the new, resumed the original rights of man, and demanded the natural privileges of property and legislation. In North Carolina, nearly the same experiment was tried over agnin. A Charter was there granted to eight noblemen instead of one. They were to be the proprietors of the soil. The dignity was to be hereditary, and in default of heirs, the deficiency was to be made up by the choice of the survivors. The territory was to be divided into counties. Two orders of nobility were to be created ; one Earl and two Barons for each county. Legislation vested in the proprietors of the soil, and jurisdiction, or the distribution of justice, was handed over, likewise, to the hereditary nobility. To make the bur- den of legislation light, one of the greatest minds of that, or any other age, John Locke, was called in to exercise the function of lawgiver to the future oligarchy of Carolina. 13 These transactions date more than half a century after the Charier to Lord Baltimore. The insurrection of popular lib- erty, in England, had intervened, which was begun by the Puritans, and consummated by Cromwell and his Round Heads, and it is surprising that no greater progress was mani- fested in the appreciation of the rights and capabilities of the people. But Shaftsbury and Locke, the leading minds of that period, were neither of them enthusiasts in any thing, and they seem to have shared in the disappointment which was felt by the nation in the results of the so-called Common- wealth of England. The Charter of Pennsylvania bears the date of 1681. And it shows the same features of feudalism with the Charter of Maryland. The whole State was made the property of one man, and powers nearly regal were conferred on the plain Quaker, William Penn. In fact, the whole State was made over to Penn, in discharge of a debt, owed to his father, by Charles the Second. In exercise of his regal rights, Penn proceeded to frame a government, and promulgate a code of laws, of his own device. But the principles of civil, as well as religious, freedom, which had been arrived at and promul- gated by George Fox, here began to tell upon the world, and to be made practical in laying the foundations of a great Com- monwealth. Penn, though bred up among the aristocracy of England, never sympathised with his associates, and was more at home in the ultra democracy of a Quaker meeting, than in the court of his Sovereign. The consequence was, that the Pennsylvania Colony soon took on the type of the new world. The power passed from the hands of the pro- prietors, and they finally were compelled to content them- selves with a pecuniary compensation for the surrender of all feudal and royal prerogatives. The first colonization of New York was nearly as aristo- cratic as that of the other States. The Hanse Towns, which first cast their eyes towards the magnificent country which now composes the Empire State, though in advance of the rest of Europe in the principles of civil freedom, knew as yet abso- lutely nothing of the government of the people. Grotius 3 14 and Barnevelt, though the lights of their age, and finally the victims to their convictions as to the natural rights of man, never entertained the idea that a popular government was practicable. In the Netherlands, power had long since passed from the hands of the feudal aristocracy, but it had not come into the hands of the people. It had been grasped and intercepted by the merchants, and the destinies of that land of industry and commerce, were in the hands of a moneyed, instead of landed, aristocracy. The Colonies which were first sent out from the Nether- lands, had for their object, not so much the establishment of a permanent settlement, as the immediate acquisition of wealth, which was to be gathered from the western wilder- ness, and enjoyed at home, amidst the luxury and repose of the Fatherland. The acquisition of territory was a secon- dary object. But though feudalism was become nearly obso- lete at home, provision was made for its revival here. A Charter was obtained from the States General for the rising Colonies of the New World. In it, there is no trace of popu- lar government. He, who within five years, should plant a Colony of fifty souls, became Lord of the Manor, or Patron, possessing, in absolute property, the lands he might colonize. Those lands <; might extend sixteen miles in length, or if on a river, they might extend eight miles on each side, and so far into the interior as might be convenient." Such was the solid foundation laid by the freest people in Europe for a landed aristocracy, on the soil now constituting a most impor- tant part of the United States. Such was the beginning of a people who are now charged with being a democracy run mad. But it ought to be added that the traces of this landed aristocracy were not immediately obliterated. They remain to the present day, to be a cause of political uneasiness and discontent. Thus it may be said, that every Colony South and West of the Hudson river, was aristocratic in its origin, and in the whole structure of its contemplated institutions. The fact was, that no other institutions were conceived of as possible. 15 No other idea was entertained, but of making America a repetition of Europe, as she then was; and had the intentions of the first projectors of the colonies taken effect, North America would have resembled England and the Netherlands as closely as Mexico and South America now resemble old Spain. There was one exception to all this ; the Puritans. The Colony of Plymouth was democratic from the beginning. The people who landed in 1620 in Massachusetts Bay, amid the cold and snows of December, had been exiles from Eng- land before they were emigrants to America. They left their country without her motherly blessing, and the latest recol- lections of their native home were associated with the bitterest and most relentless persecution. Monarchy, prelacy and aristocracy, were equally abominations in their sight. They came not therefore, forth like the other Colonies, under the patronage of titled wealth or noble families. They were the people themselves, going forth with strong hearts and toil worn hands, to fell the forest and create a world of their own. Their Democracy was organized on board the May- flower, before a Pilgrim had set foot upon the shore. The little Republic began to be, when forty-one signatures were affixed to the following document : " In the name of God, amen. We whose names are under- written, the loval subjects of our dread sovereign, King James, having undertaken, for the glory of God and the advancement of the Christian faith, and the honor of our king and country, a voyage to plant a Colony in the northern parts of Virginia, do by these presents, solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God, and one of another, covenant and combine ourselves together, into a civil body politic, for our better ordering and preservation and furtherance of the ends aforesaid, and by virtue hereof to create, constitute and frame such just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitutions and offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most conve- nient for the general good of the Colony. Unto which we promise all due submission and obedience." 16 Here, in this short document, is the essence, the substance, and almost the form, "of all subsequent distinctive American institutions and legislation. It is a recurrence to first princi- ples. It places the new society on the original ground of contract. It institutes a pure Democracy, the government of the people, for the people, and by the people. The Puritans had been trained for more than half a century in the school of Dejnocracy. During the struggle with King James, the Church and the Cavaliers, they had discovered and adopted the principle of congregational independence. They had maintained, lhat this was not only the original organization of the Church, but was in itself, the mode of administering Christianity most consistent with national justice, and the inalienable rights of man. This mode of government made every Church a little Republic by itself, and a seminary of Democracy. Here, too, men learned not only the theory, but the practice of self-government. They learned that a simple form of government was not only the best, but the cheapest; and that the immense sums which had been lavished on a splendid establishment, both in Church and State, was money worse than thrown away. James, with the true instinct of despotism, was not long in discover- ing the tendency of all these things, and he exclaimed, u No bishop, no king," and the Puritans, seeing the true issue, took up the challenge, and answered, "No bishop and no king." But in carrying out their principles in their native land, they encountered obstacles absolutely insurmountable. . There was the force of prescription, running against them wiih the accumulated strength of centuries; there was the feudal tenure of property ; there was an hereditary aristocracy, to which the masses were accustomed to bow down, wiih a subser- viency more mechanical and slavish, lhan that paid by the Spartan Helots to their masters. There was the Church establishment, which had grown up to such a massive strength as an outward institution, that it might live on as a body politic, long after the soul of religion had become utterly extinct. 17 Still worse was it for them, when they removed to the con'inent. There they found themselves foreigners, in the midst of a dense population, more than ordinarily obstinate in their prejudices, and fixed in their habits. Their hopes of propagating and perpetuating their principles in Holland, were about as desperate as to undertake to color the ocean with a single drop. They would not only have failed to propagate their principles, but have lost their nationality, and become absorbed and lost in the surrounding population. Their emigration to this country, desperate as might seem the undertaking, was the only salvation of themselves and their principles. But Providence had reserved in North America a spot unoccupied, for the trial of the last great experiment of humanity. By crossing the ocean and landing on these des- olate shores, they freed themselves, at one bound, of all the embarrassments which forbade the development of their principles in the Old World. The germ of popular liberty had room to expand itself in its simplicity, purity and perfec- tion, until it has become a tree, overspreading a mighty conti- nent, and the exiles and the oppressed of all nations, seek a refuse under the shadow of it. But, as I have already said, New England was an excep- tion. It was colonized by the people; and (he people had sufficient resource in themselves, in their intelligence and moral control, to govern themselves. How was it that the same result followed every where else, under circumstances so different? How was it, that at the end of a century and a half, the more southern Colonies, beginning their existence under aristocratic auspices, and having a strong oligarchic bias at first, were found nearly abreast of Massachusetts in the career of democracy ; and all the members of this vast Confederacy were found to be moulded, like the members of a human body, after one type, and ready to coalesce into one grand homogeneous nation? The first cause, I shall mention, as having necessitated the universal establishment of Democracy in America, was the cheapness of land and the dearness of labor. A new country 18 is the poor man's paradise. In crossing the Atlantic, the relations of capital and labor were completely reversed. The poor man's labor is his all. His consequence rises or sinks in precise proportion to the demand which exists for the only thing which he has to bring to market. In old and thickly peopled countries, like England and Holland, where labor of course was cheap and land was dear, the chance for a laborer to become a freeholder, was next to hopeless. He could not even emigrate without selling himself for a term of years into bondage. And it was in this way, that quite a large proportion of the first emigrants came over. When they arrived here, they found a totally different state of things. Here was a vast continent of land, but it was worth nothing until it was cleared and cultivated. The physical energies of the laborer alone could do this. The land owner became the dependent man, and the laborer dictated his own terms. When as yet there was no capital but land, the land owner was compelled to pay his laborer in land, and thus the laborer became a freeholder, as well as himself. The laborer too, was a capitalist, in the ownership of his own bones and sinews ; and on the strength of his real conse- quence in the community, he demanded and obtained the right of suffrage; and when labor is represented, there is necessarily a Democracy. In Europe, the recognition of popular rights was delayed for many ages by the universal prevalence of the feudal system. At the breaking up of the Roman Empire, the soil of Europe was appropriated, in large tracts, by military chief- tains, who seized on every thing by right of conquest. Each landed proprietor built his castle in the midst of his domain, and reigned there with an absoluteness equalled only by Ori- ental despotism. There were no people, in our modern sense of the term. The population was divided into masters and slaves. The right of the one was to command, and the duty of the other was to obey. This system was hardly shaken when America began to be colonized. Neither party, the land holders nor tenants, conceived of any other state of things as possible. 19 A landed aristocracy, fortified by the usage of primogeni- ture, is one of the most lasting of all human institutions. Other property easily passes from hand to hand, and nothing is more shifting: than mercantile wealth. During the Middle Ages, there was nothing to oppose to the power of the landed aristocracy. Mercantile wealth, the first power that made any stand against it, was almost unknown. That is the crea- tion of civilization. In a state of barbarism, there are no manufactures ; there is no consumption of luxuries ; there is nothing to pay for luxuries ; there is no commerce ; no trade ; nothing to buy or sell. There are no cities ; for cities are merely the marts of exchange. A growing civilization created cities, and cities reacted on the progress of civiliza- tion. Cities and commerce transferred the sceptre from land to money, and the lordly castle became subordinated to the neighboring city. The last and final transition of power, is from property to persons, and city and castle become subor- dinated to the people, that great multitude whose power is irresistible, and their voice as the sound of many waters. In Europe, at the time of the settlement of North America, this process of the transfer of power was going on. But every where its progress was gradual, tedious and unsteady. The first impulse was given by the Crusades. To win back the Holy Land and sepulchre of Christ from the Infidel, was the passion of Christendom for more than two centuries. Every thing w T as disturbed by this universal enthusiasm, and society was moved from its ancient foundations. Vast quan- tities of property changed owners. The nobles of Europe, in order to engage in those distant and expensive enterprizes, were obliged to have money. They had no ready money, and they were compelled to alienate their lands to procure it.. The cities through which the Crusaders travelled, were enriched by their expenditures, or the fleets which bore them across the sea, brought large gains to their owners ; and the wealth thus accumulated, laid the foundation of modern com- merce, that most powerful agent in all the revolutions of the last five centuries. It was one of the steps towards the 20 emancipation of the people, and their preparation to discharge the duties, as well as enjoy the privileges, of citizenship. But, when the emigration to North America took place, all these intermediate steps were overleaped. The people came themselves, and unembarrassed by feudal rights and aristo- cratic usages, took the power into their own hands. This leads me to speak of the next cause of the Democracy of the North American Colonies, which I shall mention — their isolation. Three thousand miles of ocean intervened between '.hem and the old world. This circumstance was not without the most decisive and important effects. The people had their own way, because they could not be con- trolled by their old masters at the distance of three thousand miles. Nubility never emigrated. There was nothing to tempt it to quit its ancient home. It was a plant of such a peculiar structure, that it would not bear translation to another soil. Here it would have withered and died, amidst the rugged forests and stern climate of America. A nobleman is the creation of a local conventionalism. He nourishes only in an artificial atmosphere. He must be seen by gas light. He is at home only in courts and palaces. The pomp of courts, and the splendor of palaces, are the contrivances, not more of human pride than of far-sighted policy. They are intended to impose on the i in agin ition of the multitude; to lead them to associate with the condition of their superiors the ideas of providential and unattainable superiority, to which it is their destiny and their duty to submit. Take them away from the stage on which they choose to exhibit themselves ; strip them of their dramatic costume ; take away the overhanging chandelier and the glare of the fool lights, and let them mingle in the common crowd, and they become as other men, and the crowd begin to won- der how they could ever have looked up to them with so much reverence. They gained likewise advantages from assochting together. An English nobleman had a hereditary right to a seat in the House of Lords. He mad" a part of the national legislature. This privilege was independent of the popular will. It was 21 real power, a possession so flattering to the pride of man. There was no reason therefore, why such a man should wish to leave his country. What could he find here congenial to his taste, or flattering to his pride, or tolerable to his habits of luxury and self-indulgence? A rude village on the shore of the ocean, or on the banks of a stream, of a few log cabins, scattered here and there in the wilderness, was all the New World had to offer for many generations. Not many would emigrate to such a country, who had any thing to leave behind. Much less was it to be expected, that those would come here, who had drawn the highest prizes in life at home. They could not seek a new organization of the social condition, in which they had nothing to gain and every thing to lose. Here and there, there might be an adventurer of condition, who came to this country to improve his broken fortunes ; but then it was, as in all new countries, with a hope of returning to enjoy his gains in a country and a state of society, where refined enjoyment was possible. And after all, beyond a limited circle, America was, at that time, very little known and very little regarded by the people of England. And it is very much so to the present hour. The best informed people, strange as it may seem, know little more of the Geography of this country than they do of the interior of Africa; and thousands and thousands who move in respectable society, are ignorant whether we are white or copper colored, speak the English language or Choctaw. America, then, grew up in neglect and by stealth. Unat- tractive to the higher classes, she drew to herself the people. Here came the people, the hard-handed and stout-hearted, and carved out a New World for themselves. They adapted their institutions to their w T ants, and before the Old World was aware, there had sprung up on this broad continent a gigantic Republic, ready to take her position among the nations of the earth. The third cause of Democracy in America was the progress and establishment of civil liberty in England, contemporane- 4 22 ously with the colonization of this country and formation of its institutions. The seventeenth century, from the year 1603, when the House of Stuart ascended the throne of England, three years before the settlement of Virginia, till the revolution in 16S8, six years after the arrival of Penn in Pennsylvania, was the period when the people of England were emancipated from political vassalage, and obtained their just weight in the British Constitution. The main organ of this stupendous revolution, was the English House of Commons. It was there that popular liberty, after struggling in the world for ages almost in vain, made her first successful stand, obtained a hearing for her cause, and found a voice to address herself to the nations. After the suppression of the Roman Republic by Julius Caesar, forty-three years before the Christian era, there had been nothing in Europe for more than fifteen hundred years, which could be denominated a government of the people. He, himself, in his Gallic Wars, gives a description of the condition of the people of Gaul and Britain at that period. "Over all Gaul," says he, "there are only two orders of men in any degree of honor and esteem, for the common people are little better than slaves, attempt nothing of themseh and have no share in public deliberations. As they are generally oppressed with debt, heavy tributes, or the exac- tions of their superiors, they make themselves vassals to the great, who exercise over them the same species of jurisdic- tion as masters do over slaves. The two orders of men with whom, as we have said, all authority and distinction are lodged, are the druids and nobles." When these northern nations overran the Roman Empire, and were converted to Christianity, the only political change that took place, seems to have been the substitution of the Christian ecclesiastics in the place of the Pagan druids. The people remained just where they were before. Hence it is that the Bishops sit in the British House of Lords to the present hour. 23 The first dawn of modern freedom was in the establish- ment, as a permanent body, of the House of Commons in England. Besides the king, the nobility and clergy, as arts, commerce and industry revived, there was seen gradually to spring up, a third estate, the people. They acquired wealth, and consequently power. At any rate, it was necessary that they should bear a part of the public burdens. They were first summoned to take a part in legislation, merely to legiti- mate their own taxation, and so it continued for some generations. But it was found, that the same hands which could grant, could withhold supplies, and both the monarch and the aris- tocracy discovered that the new power which they had called into existence, had already grown to an importance which could neither be dispensed with, nor controlled. With the acquisition of wealth, came as a natural consequence, educa- tion, intellectual development, literary culture. On these followed, as an inevitable result, social influence. After a long struggle, the House of Commons obtained the liberty of free discussion, and then the principles of civil liberty grew apace. Words were spoken on the floor of the House of Commons, by Hampden and Prynne and their patriotic associates, w r hich vibrated through the nation. Great principles of right, of law and humanity, which had had no articulate expression for more than fifteen hundred years, received a clear exposition and an able defence. In the meantime, literature was not idle. Milton, the sublimest genius that ever wore the vestments of mortality, took up the cause of mental freedom and civil liberty, with a force and an eloquence never surpassed. No right of man, no principle nor form of popular government, was left undiscussed. The spread and growth of these principles were resisted by king and nobility, with the most obstinate perseverance. Inch by inch, the ground was contested. At every successive Par- liament, the Commons rose in their demands, and required new guaranties for the rights of the people. The king became desperate, and for thirteen years attempted to govern without a Parliament. Failing in this, and yielding at last to the 24 necessities of his condition, he again summoned the repre- sentatives of the people only to discover that the balance of power had passed over to the people, and the sceptre of abso- lute dominion had fallen forever from his hands. But so great a question as this, the balance of the British Constitu- tion, could not be settled without the trial by battle. The sword was drawn, and Monarchy and Democracy fought hand to hand through many a bloody year. This struggle was no common contest. It was not like the war of the roses, a matter of personality and partizanship — whether this or that branch of royalty should sit upon the throne; but whether Monarchy or Democracy should have the ascendency in the British Constitution ; whether the king should govern, according to the will of the people, expressed by law, or after his own arbitrary will and pleasure. Victory at length declared for the people, and monarchy and aristocracy were driven into banishment. And had Cromwell been thirty years old instead of fifty, they might never have returned, and England been at this time a repre- sentative Republic. But the old obstacles were still in the way. The heredi- tary reverence for monarchy and aristocracy was still strong in the minds of the people, and the violent measures which Democracy was compelled to take, in order to establish and maintain its ascendency, became almost as odious to the nation as the ancient regime of legitimacy itself. The tree was too old to be bent into a new shape, and as soon as the pressure was taken off, it recoiled with violence into its ancient position. All this took place in the presence of the civilized world ; its bearings were considered and its merits discussed. The interest felt in it was intense. No where was it so deep as in the American Colonies, whose fathers and brothers were engaged in the great war of principles and opinions. And it is not difficult to conjecture on which side their sympathies would be most likely to be enlisted. The people, for it was the people who had emigrated, would sympathize with the people's cause. The people at 25 home were struggling for that which their American brethren possessed without a struggle, by virtue of their position, the right to govern themselves. This grand lesson, at least, was taught them, that king and aristocracy were at all events a superfluity; that England flourished quite as well as a Commonwealth as it had done as akinsfdom. And though Englishmen restored their monarch and House of Lords for old acquaintance sake, to a young community it seemed quite unnecessary to import or manu- facture so expensive a luxury. At any rate, the charm of Divine right was forever broken. It was shown by experiment, that a king is the executive of a nation's will, their chief magistrate, and nothing more. His authority comes up from the people, but does not come down from his ancestors by hereditary right. An elective magistracy then, if clothed with the power of the people, might be just as efficient, far more convenient, and far less dangerous, than royalty. They had seen the royal power too, gradually waning, and the will of the people becoming supreme, even under the forms of monarchy. A new power rose up, unknown in former ages, the power of public opin- ion, the mind of the nation came forth and declared itself supreme. Such were the changes which took place in the political condition of England, during the seventeenth century ; the period during which that portion of North America which now constitutes the United States, was colonized, and took on its political type and complexion. It is easy to see what influences from the mother country were predominant, and what were most congenial to a young and growing country, standing apart from the monarchical and aristocratic institu- tions of the Old World. The last cause to which I shall advert of the rise of demo- cratic institutions in America, was the general diffusion of knowledge and education, and the great improvement of the condition of the laboring classes. The materials for a Repub- lic are educated mind and personal independence. The price of labor determines whether these shall pervade all classes. 26 A high price of labor gives the poor man the means of edu- cating his children and himself, and gives him a sense of personal independence. But low wages condemn the masses to ignorance, dependence and degradation. A starving population will always be deaf to the voice of reason, and its stern necessities will drive it beyond all other control than that of an iron despotism. It throws off monarchy, only to fall back again under the more stringent constraint of the bayonet. The suffrages of an ignorant multitude are worth nothing, and the direction of the course of public affairs might as well be decided by the cast of a die. If the question were asked, why the government of the people did not come sooner in modern times, it must be answered in all honesty, that the people were not sooner prepared to govern. An Italian ecclesiastic has lately told the American people, that in that part of Italy where he was first called to minister, only one person out of five thousand could read. How is such a people as that prepared to be governed by universal suffrage? The people of France lately elected an absolute Emperor for life, and voluntarily surrendered the fruits of the struggles, the bloodshed and the sufferings of the last sixty years. Political power will always follow intelligence, for knowledge is power. From the sixth to the sixteenth century, the Church shared largely in the government of the world. And it is customary, in modern times, to censure her as an usurper, and to attribute the part she acted in civil affairs, to worldly ambition. Much of this censure is unjust. The Church governed the world, because she was the only educated body of men then extant. It is in vain that you put political power into hands too ignorant to wield it. Mexico, in emulation of our happy experiment of Republican institutions, attempted the same. But it was only to demonstrate that she was wholly unprepared for the experiment. The right of suffrage was established with comparative ease. A President was chosen by the voice of the people, but there was not sufficient intelligence to perceive the necessity of performing the duty corresponding to the right of suffrage — that of submitting to the will of the 27 majority, when expressed through the ballot box. The defeated candidate raised a civil war, and overturned the Constitution before it could be carried into effect. Our expe- riment would have ended in the same way, had not education been universally diffused. In this country, from the very first, the people of the different Colonies were sufficiently intelligent to make and administer their own laws. A large proportion of them were capable of the duties of magistracy, and their constituency knew when their public functionaries served them with wisdom and fidelity. The art of printing had been in full exercise more than a century before the first Colony was planted. Not only was the power to read very generally diffused, but books were multiplied, and they went with the primitive settlers into the remotest forests, and the literary luminaries which rose one after another upon the Old World, sent their rays across the Atlantic, and trained up a new born people to intelligence, freedom and virtue. The different Colonies* had not been long established, before a certain national feeling began to spring up on this side the Atlantic, and young America began to have a litera- ture of her own. Her Provincial Legislative Assemblies, allowing the largest liberty of speech, became the seminaries of democratic principles. Liberal education began to enlarge the minds of the rising generation, and no where, since the suppression of the ancient Republics, had the classics of Greece and Rome met a warmer welcome, or awakened a more congenial feeling, than in the young men of the New- World. No where had men been placed in a situation so analogous to that of the great patriots and scholars of anti- quity. As early as 1704, the newspaper press began its operations in the Metropolis of New England, by sending forth the "Boston News Letter;" and then and there was laid one of the corner stones of our nationality. Then and there the great American soul, already incarnate, began to breathe forth its inspiration, and carry vitality to the remotest members. Then and there American mind began to react upon itself, and fuse into one mass the various materials of 28 which the Colonies were composed. The progeny of this patriarch of newspapers, who shall number; and what finite intellect shall calculate the influence they have exerted on the institutions and the destiny of the country! It was they which helped to form and discipline and nationalize those great men who prompted, directed and carried through, the struggle of the Revolution, which gave us a being and a name among the nations of the earth. That great struggle, with its blood and tears and toils and treasure, cemented and consolidated our nationality forever. The boldness of the undertaking, the doubtfulness of the issue, and the immediate sacrifices which it demanded, consecrated to the service of their country the true, the pure, the patriotic and the brave, while it appalled and kept aloof, the timid, the time-serving and the false. The very length and severity of the contest only made the object for which they fought so long and so desperately, the more dear to all hearts. The labor and patience, the heroism and sacrifices, of that martyr age, set apart the most conspicuous actors in the scene, to an elevation in the estimation of mankind far above the level of ordinary humanity. It made them, as it were, the Apostles of modern Liberty, and sanctified their pre- cious words as a sort of sacred testament to all posterity. Every American feels himself enriched by the share he inherits of their glorious memories, and to forfeit that inheri- tance by treason or secession, he would feel as the blackest disgrace, the sorest bereavement and the most dreadful calamity. Their noble deeds, their glorious words, their wise admo- nitions, their far-sighted wisdom, have set the tone of Ameri- can patriotism, and they remain to guard, as it were with a sword of flame, the institutions they founded. The young are taught to repeat them with their earliest breath, the middle aged catch anew their inspiration, and the old weep tears of joy, that their eyes are permitted to see, and their ears to hear, the glory which has burst in noon-tide radiance 29 upon their country, but which the early confessors and mar- tyrs were permitted to see but dimly and afar off. Under the guidance of Providence, our patriot sires may be said to have fixed the type of our nationality forever. The impediments which once existed to the permanency of a vast Republic, are now happily done away. The national roads of the Roman Empire continued for ages to bind its distant members together, when there was no other real tie than a central government, despotic in form and rapacious in administration. Here, separate States and local municipali- ties, are a guaranty against a dangerous consolidation, and the rapidity of communication which modern science has achieved, has almost annihilated distance, and made our vast Republic vital in every part. We have been tried to the very verge of disunion and disorganization, only to see patriotism rise triumphant over every interest and every passion; and the sad eclipse which has come over the brightest names 'as soon as they have ceased to be Americans and to go for their country and their whole country, will appal the heart of every recreant states- man, who shall for generations, conceive the profane idea of dividing what God has so manifestly joined together. What changes may take place, when this continent shall become as thickly peopled as China, whether a democracy like ours will then be practicable, no finite mind can foresee. But till that time, there is every reason to believe, that the type of our national character will be preserved; we shall go on as we have begun, the great example of the possibility, of the power, and of the happiness of democratic institutions. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA T."TOARY r TO :^a^y [FORNIX uNCmi I 3E3