vidual tendency is permanently stronger than the social, let us ask how society gets formed at all? As the former, which is the dispersive or centrifugal force, is more intense and powerful than the latter, which is the concentric or centripetal, why should there not be a general flying asunder of the parts? There can be no society where there is nothing to hold society together; and no government, of course, where there is no social union to be governed. In the very idea of society, then, some kind of an equilibrium, between the two forces we have named, is implied. Let selflove become paramount among men as it is among brutes, and there would be no more society among men than there is among brutes-nothing more than a temporary gregation for some predatory purpose. On the other hand, let social love reign exclusively, and there would be no free individualities among mennothing but mechanical atoms lost in a mass. The balance, or reciprocity, between this projectile force which swings man away from humanity, or the centre of life, and the attractive force which draws him back to it, must be incessantly renewed to render social existence possible. A permanent preponderance of either would be fatal to it; for, in the one case the individual would be flung off into savage isolation or social nothingness; and, in the other, would be swallowed up by his race, to the total loss of self-consciousness. In the mutual action and reaction of the two principles he is alone enabled to live as a man, and as a conscious member of society. His relations to nature, through his senses and bodily appetites, prompting him always to self-gratification, and his relations to his fellow-man inspiring him always to social gratification, it is only through the equilibrium of the two that any strictly human fellowship or society can be attained.

Now, the defect of Mr. Calhoun's statement is, that it does not bring out the fact that the social or sympathetic affections are as liable to disorder as the individual, and just as much create the necessity for government. Love, for example, which, as it respects the individual, is a truly social affection, inasmuch as it takes him out of the narrow sphere of his personal existence, to blend it with that of another, is, at the same time, susceptible of the most frantic abuses, as regards society. The

family tie, which again, as it respects. the individual, is a generous social affection, enlarging and filling out his being with the noblest and sweetest sympathies, may yet degenerate into a nucleus of cold and adamantine inclusiveness. Ambition, or that corporate sympathy, which leads great minds to the organization of parties, or the conduct of armies to victory-as in the cases of Cromwell or Napoleon-will often lead them, also, to the disastrous overthrow of every principle of order. Benevolence itself, or the pure and amiable desire to improve the condition of suffering men, unaccompanied by wisdom, will run, as many say of the temperance and anti-slavery agitations, into dangerous fanaticism. It is not, consequently, the simple excess of the individual affections, or the simple weakness of the social feelings, which explains and justifies government, but the irregularities of both, which incessantly demand adjustment.

The real origin of government, however, is in no external perception of its necessity, but in an internal necessity, in a fundamental idea or instinct, if you please, of our human constitution. Actually, as we know from history, governments originate sometimes in the extension of parental authority, sometimes in voluntary compact, and oftener in force. But lying back of all accidental or extraneous occasions, is a profounder cause, internal to human nature itself, and explanatory of these various phenomenal manifestations. We have said that man was a compound of individual and social affections, which lead him to society; but he is likewise more: for, over and above these, he is endowed with a rational and moral nature, which qualifies him for self-control. He aspires, not only to society, but, under the ever present grace of God, to truth, to goodness, to beauty; or, what is the same thing, to universal unity or order. Degraded, ignorant, or savage as he may be, this higher life will solicit admission to his soul, and, once entertained, will conduct him, step by step, through all the stages of an advancing civilization. His every attempt at government, then, from the patriarchal to the democratic, is the result of his love of unity and order-feeble at first and unenlightened, but gradually gaining strength by exercise, and wisdom through experience. Just as his sciences grow up

from a primitive love of truth, enlarged by accumulation of generalizations, and his arts from the love of beauty, disciplined into refinement, so his governments are perfected under the impulse of a love of order, made wiser and better by the mingled failures and successes of centuries. As a last result, in this process of political education, he attains to the conception of a perfect political society. It is expressed by the word justice, or equity. He finds that equity, in the political sphere, becomes the equivalent of equilibrium in the mechanical. Allowing to every force its own unimpeded action, up to that point at which it would interfere with the same free action of others, it gives freedom to each, and harmony to all. It adjusts law to liberty, stability to movement, and order to progress. It reconciles the individual to authority, because the individual, recognizing, in the principle of justice, his own better nature, to which he assents from the bottom of his soul, goes really unrestrained except by himself, while it invests the ministers of power with a divine sanction, because earthly justice is a reflection of the eternal order of God.

In this view, which we say is the highest that man has yet reached, the function of government is regarded as solely juridical; or, in other words, preventive of wrong, rather than provocative of good. It holds, that as society puts away its injustice, every social blessing must ensue. Do you ask why? Because it perceives that ample provision for every positive activity has been made by the Creator, in the very constitution of man. His physical necessities, his intellectual curiosity, and his social and moral desires will set him in motion of themselves, provided justice will but protect him in their exercise. He needs no driving wheel, but a balance; no stimulus, but security.

Let the interference of individuals be restrained, let the excesses of society itself be curbed, and his own restless impatience to improve his condition, his ambition to enlarge the sphere of his influence, his love of the eternal truth, and goodness and beauty, which forever flow from the great fountain of life, into his heart, will impel him to every acquisition and grace which can expand or adorn his nature.

Nothing could be clearer in theory; but clear as this truth is in theory, it has

been made yet more clear, by the practical experiences of the nations. Those which are the most advanced in civilization, in which wealth, knowledge, and refinement are the most widely diffused, in which willfulness and disorder are the least pronounced; where tenderness for the female sex and for children, and beneficent sympathy for the distressed, are the most active; where the most profuse provisions for education and science are made, and the interests of the liberal arts, and morals, and religion, are most enthusiastically promoted, are precisely those nations in which governments are most restricted to their primary equitable functions, and the people left the freest to develop their resources and themselves.

Be it remarked, at the same time, that politics does not exhaust the relations of society. As men have duties to each other, beyond the duties of justice, so society has a sphere of responsibility beyond the political sphere. Politics is a branch, only, of a larger domain. It is introductory, both as a science and as a practice, to another and higher science and practice. The useful or benevolent relations of men to each other, need an organic expression, no less than their juridical or political relations. The subjects treated of in what is commonly called political economy-the end aimed at so widely by the European socialists-are the relations to which we refer, are among the most vital of human interests, and demand as thorough and effective a treatment as those preliminary relations which are organized into what is denominated the state. In other words, politics is but a department of what the great French speculator, Comte, barbarously names Sociology, for the want of a better term. But the difference between the political relations of men and their useful or benevolent relations is here that as the object of the former is justice, whose authority is undeniable and universal, they may act through force; but as the object of the latter is benefit, they can act only by voluntary consent. The state, within its sphere, compels, because justice, which it represents, is imperative, sovereign, and irresistible; but society, in the greater sphere of uses, merely solicits, consults, and agrees.

To return to politics: the great practical question is, how the administration

of justice-the principal function of government-is to be secured. As its efficient agents must be men liable to selfish aberrations, quis custodes custodiet?-who will take care of the government? How shall the functionaries, who execute the just will of society, be themselves prevented from becoming oppressors and wrong-doers? With

But

Mr. Calhoun especially, who adopts the selfish view of human nature, this is the all-important question. He treats it with extreme ingenuity and the most elaborate care. His precursor, Hobbes, had answered it in the most simple and obvious way, for one holding to that theory-confine the government to as few agents as possible, i. e., to a single hereditary monarch. Raised by his position above the ordinary temptations of avarice, fraud, and ambition, his own interest will be identified with the interests of the whole community, and he will act impartially towards all. Mr. Calhoun was too much of a democrat by education, and too good a logician, and, moreover, had read too much of human history to bo deluded by this fallacy. He accepted, therefore, the democratic solution, of written constitutions and direct responsibility to the people, yet with a difference; he thought written constitutions, in themselves, worth no more than the parchment on which they were written, against the interests of the majority resolved to violate them, while universal suffrage by itself would be only a means of giving efficacy to the will of that majority. Whatever the constitution may prescribe, the right of suffrage, he argues, by placing the control of the government in the majority, "must, from the same constitution of our nature which makes governments necessary to preserve society, lead to conflict among its different interestseach striving to obtain possession of its powers, as the means of protecting itself against the others-or, of advancing its respective interests, regardless of the interests of others." The major interest will, of course, prevail, and the minor will have only escaped the tyranny of one man, or an aristocracy, perhaps only to be reduced to the severer tyranny of a majority. There must be, therefore, some bridle contrived even for the majority.

Looking at the history of the world, and seeing how constitutions have failed,

and suffrage led to despotism, one is at first sight inclined to believe in the truth of this representation. In France, for example, both have been frequently tried, and, in every case, without success. Since the year 1789, no less than six or seven constitutions have been established, by the largest popular votes -and established merely to be annulled. The Constitution of '93 was voted by 1,801,918 for to 11,610 against; the Constitution of the year III. was voted by 1,107,567 for to 49,977 against; that of the year VIII., by 3,012,569 for, 1,562 against: and so of the rest, down to that of 1852, when Louis Napoleon was invested with the constituent power, by a vote of 7,439,216, out of a total of eight million ballots! yet, regarding these facts more closely, do they prove that constitutions and suffrages are of no avail? Amid all the changes of name, was there any real change of constitution? Amid all the suffrages cast, was there any real expression of the voice of the people? Emphatically, no! Under every régime, the government of France was the same-a despotic centralization.

It

Had

was even more despotic under Danton and Robespierre than it became under Bonaparte; it was just as despotic under Ledru Rollin, and Lamartine, as it now is under Louis Napoleon. Changed in name, but not in powers or functions, the state was unchanged, and controlled the popular voice, in every case. there been, at any time, a real change of the constitution (by which we mean not the written words, but the organic disposition), there would have been a real expression of the popular will, and a true democratic success. The democratic theory embraces three essentials: first, a written constitution, limiting the powers of government to the just and fundamental objects of all governments; second, a distribution of all local powor among the coördinate localities to which they relate; and third, universal suffrages, under inspectors of election chosen by the people. But these

France has never had. She has had written constitutions, but no distributions of power, and she has failed, because she was always a despotism, and not a democracy. Anybody, who will calmly consider any of the constitutions that she ever tried, will say that they ought to have failed, that it was impossible for them to succeed, not in

France merely, but anywhere. Adopted in the United States, with all the imputed fitness and capacity of the people, they would have exploded similarly-in civil war.

These failures, then, can hardly be quoted against the democratic solution, because the conditions of successful ex

periment were not fulfilled. A man who goes to sea with a hole in the bottom of his boat, ought not to complain if he sinks. Nor is his folly a proof of the defects of the art of navigation. Where the conditions of democratic government are not observed, it is idle to expect its success; but where its conditions are observed, we have the most positive and grateful evidences of its success. Take the twenty or thirty republics of this Union-the separate States we mean, not the Federal Government-and in every one we shall find order, stability, freedom, and progress. They are organized by written constitutions, with the powers defined, with suffrage almost universal, but with numerous local centres, and they stand as firmly to-day, and operate as harmlessly, as they did sixty years ago, when the most of them were formed. Their failures or their dangers are not in themselves. They contract, and do not grow in power, while the society which they rule over is expanding in numbers and wealth, with unprecedented rapidity.

Let us, however, before defending the popular theory, ascertain more precisely the nature of Mr. Calhoun's objections to it, and the theory he propounds in its place. He contends, as we have seen, that under a popular form of government, where a great diversity of interests prevails, and where the collective will is expressed through the numerical majority, the strongest interests invariably get the control. They take all the honors and emoluments of office; they stretch constitutional powers to aggrandize themselves; they promote factions; and, finally, they lead to corruption, anarchy, and despotism. "If the whole community," he adds, "had the same interests, so that the interests of each and every portion would be so affected, by the action of the government, that the laws which oppressed or impoverished one portion would necessarily oppress and impoverish all others—or the reverse-then the right of suffrage, of itself, would be all sufficient, to coun

teract the tendency of the government to oppression and abuse of its powers." "But such is not the case: on the contrary, nothing is more difficult than to equalize the action of the government in reference to the various and diversified interests of the community; and nothing more easy than to prevent its powers. becoming instruments to aggrandize and enrich one or more interests, by oppressing and impoverishing the others, and this, too, under the operation of laws, couched in general terms, and which, on their face, appear fair and equal." "The more extensive and populous the country, the more diversified the condition and pursuits of its population; and the richer, more luxurious and dissimilar the people, the more difficult is it to equalize the action of the governmentand the more easy for one portion of the community to pervert its powers to oppress and plunder the other."

This is his fundamental position; and the remedy he proposes is, the organization of the different interests of society, on a scheme which is called "the concurrent majority." "Let the sense of each interest or portion of the community," he says, "which may be injuriously or unequally affected by the action of the government, be taken separately through its own majority, and then require the consent of each interest to put or keep the government in action. In other words, give to each division or interest, through its appropriate organ, either a concurrent voice in making and executing the laws, or a veto on the execution!" In this way all unequal or injurious action will be prevented, just as in Rome the veto of the tribunes prevented the encroachments of the patricians upon the plebeians; or as in old Poland the veto of each member of the diet prevented the passage of any dangerous law; or as in Great Britain the reciprocal checks of kings, lords, and commons upon each other prevent the accumulation of power in the hands of either. In this way, too, when all the parts or interests of a society have a negative upon the proceedings of the other parts, a spirit of mutual concession and compromise is begotten, which must lead to the most amicable and patriotic relations. As no measure could be carried without the assent of the minor interests, their liberties would be secured, and the majority rendered more conciliatory and justly disposed.

In proceeding to remark upon this scheme, the first difficulty that occurs to us is, in regard to the vague and indefinite application of the word "interest," in this country. In the older nations, where distinct and well-defined classes have grown up, under the old feudal arrangements or where separately organized races live under a common political system-or where, again, the territorial divisions, or marches, bound peculiar interests or peoples—we can easily tell what "interests" are, and see how an organization by "interests" might be effected; but, among us, where there are no acknowledged classes; where all races are promiscuously mingled— except the blacks, who have no political existence whatever-where there are no really divided or opposite interests, though we sometimes loosely speak of an agricultural interest, a commercial interest, a manufacturing interest, a mining interest, etc., and where the geographical divisions, if they were not fast melting away, under the influence of rail-roads and rivers, would present no positive or radical antagonisms, it is hard to discover in what manner an organization by "interests" could be applied. As, according to the renowned Mrs. Glass, you must first catch your hare before you can cook it, so you must first get your "interests," before you can organize them.

Unless you choose to consider each separate trade as the interest" to be acquired, which would plunge you, at once, into the worst form of socialism-that which proposes to organize industry through the state-there are no interests on which to attach your theory. Our ordinary political divisions into states, counties, townships, etc., are, for the most part, arbitrary, or, at least, do not involve any very separable interests. The "majority" and "minority" interests, which appear in politics, are quite too fluctuating to be made the ground of a permanent organization. Like the Paddy's flea, when you put your finger on them, they are not there. What was the minority yesterday is the majority to-day-and the majority of to-day will become the minority tomorrow. In fact, the free and the slave states are the only strongly contrasted divisions of any kind, in this nation-and this division is not so much one of interest (at least, so far as the North is concerned) as of moral conVOL. VII.-7

viction. What real or effective diversity of "interest" is there between any of the New England states, or between New York and Pennsylvania, or between New York and Ohio, or between any of the western states? We mean, what diversity sufficiently pronounced to be made the foundation of a permanent organic consecration? In what way do "interests" of any one state dominate those of another? Is Massachusetts an oppressor? is Illinois? is Louisiana? Can we say that they would be, if their political equality in the federal Senate were removed, and a numerical majority prevail there, as in the House? During the legislation of the last fifty years, at least, has the House, elected by a numerical majority of the people, shown any more disposition to oppress the states, than the Senate, elected on the principle of the concurrent majority, by the states? On page 391 of vol. I., Mr. Calhoun himself admits that there has been no conflict between the several states, as the founders of the Constitution apprehended, and that the only conflict is between the North and South.

Nor is it true, as Mr. Calhoun alleges, that the "interests" of a community are the more likely to oppress and plunder each other, the more extensive and diversified they are, for the simple reason that, in such a case, the less willing or able are they to combine. We can conceive how, in a single homogeneous community, where only two or three positive interests unite, the strongest one might oppress the others, or a few weaker ones combine for the same purpose; but, in a large society, stretched over a vast expanse of territory, where ten thousand different pursuits engage attention, and the interests of persons and localities are intensely complicated, it is almost morally impossible that any one or any dozen should gain a complete and lasting ascendancy. It is impossible that any one or any dozen should be so paramount as virtually to override the others. The very fact of their diversity itself is the guarantee of their comparative equality. Let any one or any dozen attempt an undue control, and that instant the remaining hundred, though separated before, have a common motive for resisting the aggression. In proof of this, compare the condition of the southern states of this Union